Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

triumphantly.
    “Phone’s upstairs, I’ll be right back.”
    Max answered her phone just as Jack walked back into the kitchen. Dave was sitting at the table with Polly, and they turned together when they heard Jack’s voice. “Hey Max. How’s it going?” He tried to sound as casual as possible. “What do you mean, what do I want?”
    Dave waved and hissed loudly in an attempt to get Jack’s attention.
    “Dave and I just got back from our run … . Yeah, it was good … Listen, Max, …” Finally he noticed Dave’s gestures. “Hold on a sec. Dave’s trying to tell me something.”
    As soon as Jack’s hand covered the phone, Dave said, “Polly’s going out. There’s a small store that sells sandwiches not too far down the road and she’ll drop us off.”
    “Hey Max, I’m back. Listen, you have fun. Think about where you want to go for dinner tonight.” He listened a moment, then closed his phone. “Thanks, Polly. You have no idea how much grief you just saved us.”
    “Not a problem. Get cleaned up and we’ll go.”
    * * *
    The store was only about three miles down the road. Polly dropped them off and wished them well. Like most country stores, the shelves were jam-packed with groceries, motor oil, snow shovels, stacks of beer, and coolers. Chest freezers held ice cream, sodas, and more beer. Above the cashier, a sign pronounced that fishing and hunting licenses were available, and that this was also a tagging station for deer.
    The deli case offered a reasonable selection of meats and cheeses as well as several salads: tuna, egg, potato. Jack ordered a ham and Swiss on rye while Dave ordered an Italian sub. They each grabbed a bag of chips and a Coke. Then they paid the cashier and headed outside to a picnic table, where they sat and ate their sandwiches, watching the cars go by on the road.
    “Who knew that this road was so busy?” Dave said as he watched a station wagon pull in at the gas pumps.
    “Who woulda’ thunk,” agreed Jack.
    “It’s nearly three,” said Dave checking his watch.
    “I’m done. Guess we ought to start walking back.”
    “Fine by me. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the girls will come by and pick us up.”
    “I bet they’d honk and keep going, just to mess with us.”
    “Yeah, you’re probably right.
    * * *
    Twenty minutes later, Dave stopped and swung the case of beer off his shoulder, thrusting it over toward Jack.
    “Here, you carry this for a while.”
    “Gettin’ heavy?”
    “Yeah. Come on. Trade ya’.” He put the case on the ground and reached for the bag of chips that Jack was carrying.
    “I told you to just get a six-pack.”
    “I know, but this is a much better value.”
    “Okay. But only until you’ve had a rest.”
    Dave bent over and pulled open a corner of the case. He took a can out, cracked it open, and said, “Here. I’ll lighten your load. Want one?”
    “I’ll pass, but thanks for your concern.” Jack hoisted the case onto his shoulder. Dave took the bag of chips and they continued their trek. Every half mile or so they swapped the case off, and it did get lighter as the distance to the Inn decreased and the number of empties increased. By the third or fourth exchange, they were sharing both efforts equally.
    As they paused for another short break, an old pickup truck passed them, followed by a line of cars. Jack noticed that the driver of the truck seemed to really take a good look at them as he went by. “Hey Dave, did you get a look at that guy in the pickup?”
    “Couldn’t not.”
    “Gave me the creeps.”
    It must have been the beer, because Dave then added, “Looked like the evil German camp commander in some awful World War Two movie. ‘You vill tell us vat ve vant to know’.”
    Jack chuckled. “No. Looked more like the evil mad scientist. ‘Attach zee electrodes here’,” he said in the same bad accent.
    The comic relief and lighter load seemed to shorten the remaining distance. Ten minutes later, they were the first to arrive back at the Inn.

CHAPTER 37
    “DO YOU THINK POLLY’LL MIND if we put a few beers in the fridge?” asked Dave.
    “Probably.”
    “You’re right. I don’t think she’ll mind.” With that, Dave opened the refrigerator door and put the rest of the beers in the fridge.
    When the girls got home, they were sitting on the back porch where their day had begun, watching the shadows lengthen.
    “Where’d you get the beers?” asked Max.
    “What. No ‘hello’ first?” Jack