Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

bar, her face registered a kind of excitement, determination, as if she had been given a mission. Now, with the news that he was gone, her face reflected disappointment and maybe even a touch of concern.
    “He’s gone? Why? How? What did you do, Jack Beale?”
    “Nothing. We talked. I told him how special you are to me. He told me he wanted to buy a quilt from you, and I told him it wasn’t yours to sell. That’s when he got a little weird. Well, he was already weird, but you know what I mean. Then he left.”
    Max simply stared at Jack.
    Jack stared back for a moment, then asked, “So what did Malloy say?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Nothing?” Jack knew that wasn’t true, but he also knew Max. Playing the game, he said, “Well, if he didn’t say anything, could I get something to eat? I’m starving.”
    That did it. Max started in.
    “He thanked me for calling. He said that he had been looking for Alfred―but we already knew that. He said he wanted to ask Alfred a few questions, but he’s had no luck getting hold of him. He asked me if I could keep him at the bar until he could get up here. I said I’d try, but now you let him get away.”
    “I didn’t let him get away. He left. It’s not like I could have tied him to a chair. I’m sorry already. So could I get a burger and some fries?”
    “Jack Beale, you just let a murderer get away and all you can think about is a burger?”
    “You don’t know that.”
    Her look said otherwise.
    “C’mon, Max. Malloy said that he only wants to talk to him.”
    She continued to stare silently at him.
    “Look Max, he’s gone. Why don’t you call the lieutenant back so he doesn’t waste a trip up here. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Make the phone call, order that burger, and we’ll worry about something else.”
    “Fine. But I know I’m right. You’ll see.”

CHAPTER 81
    EMOTIONS TRUMPED REASON , so as soon as he hung up the phone, Lt. Malloy stood up to leave. He knew that it was unlikely that he could get to Rye Harbor before Alfred left the bar, but he had to try. The more he learned about Alfred - and his twin, the more anxious he became to talk to him. He couldn’t help but feel that Alfred had been avoiding him.
    Before he even stepped away from his desk, she called back and told him that Alfred was gone, so after reassuring Max that she had nothing to fear, they agreed to meet the next morning.
    * * *
    Lieutenant Malloy arrived in the parking lot at Ben’s a little early. They had arranged to meet at 9:30, but he wanted to have a little time to see the area. The weather hadn’t improved. It was still overcast, and the cold east wind continued to blow in from the ocean. Lieutenant Malloy had the engine running and the heat blasting. He was looking at his notes when there was a knock on his car window. He looked up and hit the button to lower his window at the same time.
    “Lieutenant Malloy?”
    He shivered as the cold air rushed into his car. “You must be Max,” he said to the woman standing next to his car.
    “I am,” she said.
    He pulled on his door handle, pushed his door open, and climbed out of his car. “It’s so nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
    Max was all scrunched into a ski parka, with a knit hat pulled down on her head and a scarf wrapped around her neck. She had been hugging herself in an attempt to ward off the cold, but now she reached out a mittened hand and shook his.
    “Is there somewhere we could go to talk? If not, we can talk here in my car,” he said.
    “Let’s go inside. I have a key.”
    The bar was warm, but Max turned the heat up another notch anyway. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to put a pot of coffee on,” she said.
    Max had just returned with two mugs of steaming coffee when they heard the front door open, followed by a puff of cold air. Then Jack appeared.
    “Jack, what are you doing here?” Max asked.
    Malloy looked up.“Hi Jack. All recovered?”
    Before Jack could reply, his friend Tom entered the bar behind him. Max, surprised to see Tom, looked over at Jack. Before she could say anything, Tom said, “Mornin’ Max.” He then approached Malloy and held out his hand. “You must be Lieutenant Malloy. Ipswich, right? I’m Tom Scott, Rye Harbor PD. Jack told me about you.”
    Malloy shook Tom’s hand. “Tom. Good to meet you.”
    “Jack tells me that you are interested in someone who might be hanging around here?”
    “I am. Last weekend a man was