Read Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals for Free Online Page B

hand and ran off the porch. She jumped into her car, started it, slammed it into reverse. The tires splayed gravel as she turned sharply, pointed the car away from Jack, and hit the gas. Courtney came out onto the porch just as Max made the turn off the drive onto Harbor Road. “What the hell happened?”
    “I don’t know.” He got up, stepped off the porch, strode to his truck, and climbed in.
    “Where are you going?” Courtney shouted after him.
    The engine roared to life, blocking out his answer, if he even had an answer.
    Shifting into gear, he began backing down the drive. Courtney waved for him to stop when he reached the porch. He stopped and looked up at her, the truck still in gear.
    “What?”
    “Where are you going? What about Max?”
    “What about her?”
    “Shouldn’t you go after her?”
    “Not right now.”
    “So where are you going?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “I hope she’s all right.”
    “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Call me if she doesn’t show up for work tonight.” He took his foot off the brake and backed away. Courtney stood there, alone for a moment, thinking about what had just happened. Then she felt Cat rubbing against her leg. She bent down to scratch Cat’s head and as she did, she said again, “I really hope she’s all right. Let’s go in.” Cat followed her into the cottage.

CHAPTER 10
    “THAT BASTARD DANIEL ,” Max said to no one as she drove off. She wiped more tears from her face. “How could he just show up and not say anything?” She turned the radio on, loud. Queen was playing Bohemian Rhapsody. The guitar riff began as she headed south on the boulevard. She turned it up a little louder, as if that would drown out all the voices in her head. “And Jack! How could you? How could you not have told me? I thought I could trust you. I thought we kept no secrets.”
    She didn’t remember the ride down the coast, past the mansions, past the condos, or past the strip. She didn’t remember pulling into the state park at the southern end of Hampton Beach either. She was just there, and now, as she sat in her car staring up at the sand dunes, there were no more tears, just used tissues and questions. “What is going on? Why?” The questions kept echoing in her head. Her hand reached for the door handle. She pulled the door open and, without thinking, got out and began walking toward the dunes.
    The sun was warm and the sand loose, even on the path, so she was breathing hard and beginning to sweat by the time she reached the top of the first dune. Warm air rising over the land was being replaced by air drawn over the still winter-cold ocean, creating the sea breeze that hit her with all of its early spring chill. She shivered. Then, pulling her shirt close, she continued to follow the path as it meandered through the dunes. Tufts of sea grass, green against tan, waved in the breeze making soft rustling sounds and she could feel the steady thump and wroosh of each wave as it ended its journey against the shore. The occasional cries of gulls as they soared above, ever vigilant for any tidbits left by man or nature, added the final track to nature’s rhythms.
    Max found a small recess in one of the folds of a dune where a piece of driftwood had been wedged, affording shelter from the breeze and prying eyes while allowing a clear view of the ocean. She sat on the piece of wood and immediately could feel the sun’s warmth on her face. She closed her eyes and imagined lovers huddling together, sharing each other’s warmth under a moonlit night. Then, for just a moment, the grass stopped rustling as the breeze paused, leaving only the sound of the surf, and between waves breaking she could hear the faint cries of unseen children playing on the beach. Memories were triggered of her parents and grandmother, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
    She remembered the first time she ever saw a beach. She was little, maybe six or seven, and her dad came home one day and announced