Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

who-would-blink-first. Neither flinched.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    “How’s your salad?” asked Max as she stepped back. Keeping her eyes on him, she acted as if she had something else to do, hoping that he would not remember the knife.
    “A knife,” he said. He poked at the salad with the fork and continued to look at her.
    “I’m sorry.” Max turned and reached over into the basket of silverware that was on the end of the bar. “How dangerous can a dinner knife be?” she thought, trying to convince herself that it was harmless. She handed him the knife and as she did, she glanced down by her sink to make sure he wouldn’t be able to reach any of her sharp knives.
    “Thank you. It’s good.”
    “Good?” Max was so distracted that she had no idea what he was talking about.
    “The salad. It’s good.”
    “I’m glad you like it.” She knew she had to keep things neutral. She prayed that either Jack would get there soon or Tom would get her message and arrive. If they didn’t arrive soon, at least the chef was out back and she could call out to him for help.
    “You know, you have something I need to have.” He raised the subject again as he took a bite of salad. He chewed slowly as he looked at her in anticipation of her answer.
    “So you have said.” Max stole a glance toward the entrance to the bar, every molecule in her body willing those bells on the front door to clingle. Then to stall him she added, “What is so important about this quilt?”
    Her question stopped him mid-chew and he looked at her. He seemed to be considering her two statements. He swallowed and took a sip of wine, all the while never taking his eyes off of her. “It’s important to my family.”
    “I don’t understand.” She tried to sound as sympathetic as possible. “I thought you had no family.”
    Alfred dropped his fork on the bar. It might as well have been the report of a cannon for how loud it sounded. Then he slapped his hand on the bar. Max jumped.
    “I am not alone. My family needs me, and when I have that quilt, I will be able to save them.” His voice had risen. It wasn’t quite a shout, but it was not conversational.
    Max fought to keep her voice as impartial as possible. “How is the quilt going to help?” she asked.
    He looked at her in astonishment. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Everyone knew what it meant. Everyone understood, so how could she not?
    “I need that quilt,” he repeated with another bite of salad.
    “So you have said,” Max repeated.
    This time, Alfred visibly glared at her. Her tone had made it clear that she was not going to give it to him.
    He took a long sip of his wine, nearly draining the glass, and then slowly put the glass on the bar. He was about to open his mouth to say something when the bells on the door clingled. They both looked toward the entrance to the bar.

CHAPTER 96
    AS SOON AS JACK rounded the corner and walked into the bar, Max felt a wave of relief wash over her. Leo hadn’t let her down.
    Still breathing hard from his run back, Jack paused and glanced about, wondering what was up. It was then that he saw Alfred sitting at the end of the bar, staring at him. Jack froze, staring back. Alfred quickly looked away and Jack turned toward Max.
    “Hey, Max,” he said as he gulped for air.
    She didn’t say anything as her eyes met his. She didn’t need to. Jack understood immediately, and he drew his eyes away from her and looked back at Alfred, whose head was down now as he stared at his salad.
    Jack’s breathing was rapidly returning to normal so he returned his attention to Max, and asked, “You okay?” He walked over and took a seat at the bar.
    “Fine. How was your run? Beer?” She tried to sound as normal as possible.
    “Please. And a glass of water.”
    When Max went out back for his beer, Jack studied Alfred again. To break the silence, he said, “Alfred, right? Antiques?” Then, he waited for Alfred’s reply.
    That took Alfred by surprise. A storm of questions and emotions filled his head. All he wanted was to have a quiet talk with Max. That was his plan. She would understand and give him the quilt. It didn’t involve anyone else. Why was this happening? He decided to ignore Jack.
    Max returned with Jack’s beer and placed it in front of him. As she did so, she glanced over at Alfred and caught him looking at Jack and herself. “Alfred, this is my friend Jack. I think you met the other day.”
    “We did,” said Jack