Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

with a smile. He looked back over at Alfred and took a sip of beer.
    Alfred’s head snapped up and he glared at Max, thinking, “ Bitch! What the hell are you doing? ” The last thing he wanted was for this Jack to stick around any longer than necessary, but now he had to say something. Forcing a smile he asked the obvious. “You a runner?”
    “Yeah. Just finished. Wanted to check in on Max before heading home to change.”
    Alfred nodded. “I run.”
    “Really?” said Jack. “For fun or do you race?”
    “I race occasionally, but most of my running I do on trails.” He said this without much enthusiasm, and his tone conveyed the message, “I really don’t want to talk to you.” Then he turned his head away.
    An awkward silence fell over the bar for what seemed like a very long time. Alfred looked back down at his salad and took another bite. Max looked at him and then at Jack, who sipped his beer and discreetly eyed Alfred. All that chewing, sipping, and watching was finally interrupted when the bells on the front door clingled again.
    As Max looked toward the door, Jack watched her face. She still seemed anxious, but now it displayed itself in a hopeful sort of way. The relief on her face was palpable when Tom walked in.
    Max gave Jack a quick smile and offered to pour another glass of wine for Alfred.
    “Hey, Tom,” she said. He chose a seat in the center of the bar, two seats away from Alfred and three away from Jack.
    “Max. Jack.”
    Jack thought he saw Alfred jerk his head slightly when she said Tom’s name.
    Max placed the glass of wine in front of Alfred. He looked up at her and mumbled, “Thanks.” Only Jack saw him turn his head just a bit to get a look at the new arrival while Max turned her attention to Tom.
    “May I get you something, Tom?”
    “Sure. How about a coffee?”
    “I’ll be right back.” She left the bar and Jack noticed a sudden bit of spring in her step.
    “Damn, it’s cold out!” said Tom, blowing on his hands. “Were you out running?” He looked over at Jack.
    “Yeah.”
    “How far?”
    “Only about five today.”
    “I can’t imagine.” Before he could say anything else, Max came back in the bar and said, “I’m brewing a new pot. It’ll be a couple of minutes.”
    “That’s fine. I’m in no hurry.”
    “I’ll be back as soon as it’s ready.” With that, Max escaped back to the kitchen.

CHAPTER 97
    THIS WAS NOT WHAT ALFRED wanted to hear. He wanted Tom and Jack to leave. They were messing up his plans. He took another sip of wine.
    “Tom, this is Alfred Whitson,” said Jack, motioning in Alfred’s direction. “He’s an antiques dealer from down in Massachusetts.”
    Tom turned toward Alfred. “Nice to meet you. What kind of antiques?”
    Jack answered for Alfred. “He’s interested in a quilt that Max has.”
    Tom addressed Alfred directly. “A quilt? I would never think of a quilt as an antique.”
    Alfred looked up and glared at Tom. “ Hit a nerve with that, ” Tom thought.
    Tom didn’t let up. “My grandmother had all kinds of quilts. All made of squares of scrap cloth, nothin’ fancy. So, could they be valuable?”
    Alfred continued to stare at Tom, who went on about his grandmother’s quilts.
    Jack sat and watched as this mini-drama played out wondering what Tom was doing.
    “Most quilts are worthless, as I’m sure your grandmother’s are,” Alfred finally replied in a dismissive tone.
    Tom stopped and looked at him. For a moment, Alfred appeared to be on the verge of losing control. Then he abruptly looked down at his nearly finished salad, pushed the plate away, muttered something to himself, stood and walked to the men’s room.
    At that point, Max walked back in, carrying a fresh mug of coffee for Tom. The silence stopped her in her tracks, and it was impossible to miss the residual tension that hung in the room. Her eyes moved from one to another with a look that asked, “ What’s going on? Did I miss something here? ”
    Getting no response, Max walked over to Tom and placed the coffee next to him. “Here you go, freshly brewed.”
    “Thanks.”
    As she returned to her spot behind the bar, Tom said, “I talked to Malloy before coming over. He asked me to poke him a bit, see what how he reacts, but to not do anything more until he got here.”
    Before he could explain more, the bathroom door opened.
    Jack said loud enough for Alfred to hear, “Alfred was about to explain to us why some quilts are valuable