Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

from here and you were in no shape to go anywhere, so I brought you back home.”
    He continued to stare silently.
    “That’s a pretty ugly hand you have there. That what those pills are for?”
    He looked down at the bottle and nodded.
    “They’re pretty good. Where’d you get them?”
    He was beginning to feel the pain subsiding, and he could see her with more clarity. In the light of day, without the benefit of makeup or the shadows of the bar, she could have been any harried young mother, overwhelmed by life, who you might see in a large grocery store dragging around several protesting kids. Only she wasn’t. While not unattractive, it was obvious she had been around the block a few times. She stepped out of the doorway toward him and as she did, her towel began to come unwrapped. She made a half-hearted attempt to close it without ever taking her eyes off of the pills in his hand.
    “None of your business. I have to get going.” He stood up.
    She pressed herself close to him and softly stroked his face. “No, you don’t. Why don’t we just stay here today. I’ll go get us some coffee. You go get a shower and then … we’ll see what happens after that.”
    Against every instinct in his body, he mumbled, “Okay.” Then he watched her as she moved past.
    She slid past him and yanked open a drawer from the bureau on the other side of the bed. She took out some shorts and a shirt and pulled them on. Neither left much to the imagination. Slipping into some sandals, she grabbed a tiny pocketbook on a long strap, slung it over her shoulder, and said, “I’ll be back.”
    “What the fuck is the matter with you?” he thought to himself. “You have a job to finish.”
    Another voice inside replied, “You can’t do anything right now. It’s too early. Later. Be patient. What the fuck.”
    “Maybe. But this is not a good idea.”
    “Maybe not. But so what? When you are finished with her … you know.”
    He smiled. The drugs must have been kicked in, because suddenly this seemed like an excellent idea.

CHAPTER 91
    JACK WALKED INTO his place a little before noon. All the way back from Tom’s, he had agonized over how to tell Max about their conversation. “Max, you up there?” he called out as he walked up the stairs. There was no answer. He called out again, and this time the silence was even louder. His heart began to pound in his chest as his imagination kicked in. The last few steps were a blur as panic set in. He quickly ran through the apartment, calling her name and looking for any sign that she was there. As he returned to the stairs, about to rush down, he saw the note.
    Gone in to work. Someone phoned in sick, so I told Courtney I’d cover lunch. Vet called. Cat doing well. Can pick her up tomorrow. x o x o
    As he read the note he felt nothing but sheer relief. He took a deep breath, embarrassed at his sudden overreaction, and re-read the note. It took another minute for his hands to stop shaking as he realized she’d be safe at work and he would have the afternoon to do whatever he wanted. He needed a run to settle his nerves, but first, he needed to hear her voice. He dialed the restaurant.
    “Hey, Max,” he said trying to keep his tone as normal as possible. She didn’t need to know about the panic attack he had just had. There would be time later to tell her the story. It might even seem funny then.
    “Jack. Is everything all right? You got my note?”
    “Yeah, Yeah. Everything’s fine. Great news about Cat.” Thinking quickly, he added, “I just wanted to see if you would like to go out on the boat after you get out of work. Sunset cocktails.”
    “That sounds nice. Why don’t I meet you. Does six-ish work?”
    “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”
    “Later,” she said. “Gotta go.”
    He breathed another sigh of relief as he heard her hang up the phone before he could say anything else. As he replaced the receiver, he thought, “Sunset cocktails. Safe at sea. Perfect.”
    Then he was ready for that run.
    * * *
    Last night’s rain had cleared out all of the humidity. A light breeze off the water cooled the air just enough that it didn’t feel like the eighty-five degrees that the thermometer proposed. By the time he had covered the first mile, his body was beginning to adapt to the new reality. His breathing was smoothing out, his legs had loosened up, and as sweat began to coat his arms and shoulders the transformation was nearly complete. He had decided to run