Irene was incredibly beautiful but in an earthy plain way. Max thought he was dreaming. He blinked his eyes several times. The fog created a dew on the face, on her face, that made her look like a child. Until he saw the expression in her eyes.
She approached him as if to shake him out of his dream. She let him know that she knew who he was and knew why he was trailing her. He was wasting his time, she said, the cowboy meant nothing to her.
His mind fixated on those words. The cowboy meant nothing to her. What did it really mean though? Max could mean nothing to her as well, she didn't even know him! But still...he was grasping at straws.....Maybe it was her look, the teasing.
Max decided to get down to business. Irene was possibly in danger. He had to warn her, or see what she knew.
They walked along the shore and she bent over to pick up a broken sand dollar. As she brushed the sand off of it he noticed how delicate her hands were. Her story though, was not delicate.
Irene shared that she knew Billy Love had been murdered. The man she had been seen with, the one with the scar, was Jimmy, his associate from Chicago. He had come to warn Billy but was too late. And now he was on the run too. They had doublecrossed the mob in Chicago and been followed to San Francisco. They had hoped the mob here would protect them. But no one likes a double crosser.
Irene had received a call from her sister Leah and so had arrived to try to help her out of this mess. But, Leah didn't want to leave Billy. However, tonight when Jimmy told them what happened, how Billy had been killed, they were both afraid. Irene knew she needed to get Leah out of town fast.
Max watched Irene stop and toss the sand dollar pieces into the ocean. She turned back to look at him, her emerald eyes peering under the rim of her hat, straight to his soul. He knew by her look, that she knew what he didn't want her to know. That he would do anything for her. Anything.