Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

back to the show.
    Max came back into the bar before Alfred returned.
    “Hey, Max,” said Leo as she reached the bar.
    “What?” The tone of her voice clearly indicated that she didn’t care what he had to say.
    “Remember last week, that guy who came in?”
    “What guy?”
    “That guy who was all interested in antiques and stuff.”
    It didn’t register at first, but then she understood. Her eyes widened and she felt her heartbeat increase while her breath grew short. “Why do you ask?”
    “He’s in the men’s room.”
    Leo might as well have hit her in the stomach. To his surprise, she quickly turned and walked away.
    In the sanctuary of the kitchen, Max picked up the phone and dialed Tom’s number. There was no answer, so all she could do was leave a message. Then she tried Jack. Same deal.
    Back in the bar, she searched quickly for Alfred. When she was sure he was nowhere in sight, she went straight to Leo.
    “Leo, you’ve got to do me a huge favor.”
    He looked at her. This was new. She had never asked him or his two friends for anything.
    “What?”
    “I need you to find Jack.”
    “Why don’t you just call him?”
    “I tried. He’s out running. I need him here. Right now.” Leo just sat and stared at her while his beer-soaked brain processed her request.
    “Why?”
    The look on her face and the urgency in her voice caught him by surprise.
    “Leo. I don’t have time for this. Please, just do it.”
    Max stared at Leo with a look that said, “GO! NOW!”
    Then she said, “Your beers are on me.”
    That never happened, and Leo wasn’t about to give her the opportunity to change her mind.
    “Hey guys.”
    Ralph and Paulie turned away from the commercial that had just come on.
    “Come on. We’ve got to go.”
    “What’s the rush?” asked Ralph.
    Leo glanced back at Max to make sure she wasn’t changing her mind. She wasn’t. All she did was mouth, “NOW!” Then she added a shoosh with her hands for emphasis.
    “C’mon guys. We’ve got to go.” He grabbed his two friends’ arms and gave them a tug toward the door. Grudgingly they responded, and ignoring their moans and groans, he herded them out of the bar. Leo looked back at Max one last time before heading down the hall. As he turned away he heard the latch on the men’s room door snap open.
    Alfred stepped into the room and saw Max standing behind the bar. He smiled and his heart began to beat faster. She was alone. Things were going to work out. He could feel it.
    “Hello,” said Alfred. He took a seat at the bar without ever taking his eyes off of her.
    Max took a breath and tried to not look too surprised or scared.
    “Hi,” she said, forcing a smile.
    He had chosen a seat at the end, near the wall, where he could easily see her and the door.
    “How’ve you been?” He was trying as hard as he could to sound not threatening.
    As Max began to respond, he continued, “I’m sorry about the other night. I only wanted to talk. Maybe it wasn’t the best time …”
    Max cut him off. “It wasn’t.” Then, in an effort to sound as natural as possible, she said, “What did you want to talk about?”
    Before he could begin his answer, she also asked if he would like a drink.
    “Thanks. Sure.”
    “White Zinfandel?”
    Surprised, he looked at her and then said, “Yes … you remembered.”
    “A good bartender never forgets what a good customer orders.” She forced herself to speak casually even as her heart filled with panic.
    Alfred smiled as he watched her pour the glass of wine. He continued to sense success.
    “Would you like something to eat?” Max asked as she placed the wine in front of him. “Last time you had a grilled salmon Caesar salad?”
    She hoped he would say yes so she would have an excuse to get out of the bar and try calling Tom again.
    He was feeling better by the minute. She even remembered what he had eaten. “Yes, that would be great.” He didn’t want to rush things, so he sat back and took a sip of his wine. Then he began.
    “I don’t know if you remember, but I deal in antiques. I am really interested in that quilt you have.” Alfred was still trying to act as normal and nonthreatening as possible. In his mind he was succeeding.
    “I do remember. I still have the quilt. However, I don’t think I want to part with it.” Max tried to keep her voice light and breezy. “Listen, I’m going to go out to the kitchen to make your salad. We can talk more when I get