The Deep End

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  She certainly couldn’t complain that Doug had managed to move her testimony up a day, but she always got nervous when her schedule changed suddenly. She took another deep breath. Now she could only pray that her departure from the courthouse would go as smoothly as her arrival.

  One of the marshals took her by the arm and led her through a side doorway. Doug and Keith met them in the hallway and escorted her to a nearby exit. Her eyes darted down the hallway, and a sigh of relief escaped her when she saw that the corridor was empty.

  She knew she should be used to the extra protection by now, especially since last year when an assassin had penetrated the already-tight security measures and nearly managed to silence her for good. Still, as the four armed men surrounded her, she could feel her heart pounding and wondered if this time one of Rush’s men might succeed.

  Months had passed since she had faced any viable threat, unless she considered driving during Philadelphia’s rush hour dangerous. Still, when she had begged to be allowed to compete in the U.S. Nationals for swimming, Doug Valdez had shut her down. The FBI and the U.S. Marshals had been in complete agreement that a meet of that importance would be too great a risk for her.

  CJ knew that the marshals were testing their security measures this week. If she could make it back to Philadelphia without incident, maybe they would let her try to qualify for the Olympic trials. The FBI and the U.S. Marshals had already approved the security plan for the swim meet the following weekend. It would be the first time she would be allowed to compete since moving to Philadelphia. Of course, those plans hinged on the success of this week’s security measures.

  She stepped outside, and bright sunlight blinded her momentarily. She heard the car approaching before she saw it, but the hand on her arm remained steady. Her free hand lifted to shade her eyes, and a sigh of relief escaped her when she saw that the car pulling up to the curb was driven by another U.S. Marshal. A second car, identical to the first, parked directly behind it. CJ was loaded into the first car along with Doug and one of the marshals. Keith and the other marshal got into the second car before both vehicles pulled away from the courthouse.

  CJ closed her eyes, praying silently for safety. She didn’t have to look out the window to know that the other car would veer off in another direction to create a viable decoy. Breathing deeply, she tried to relax as she put yet another trial behind her.

  Chapter 3

  CJ walked inside the condo, a smile crossing her face when she found Matt sitting in the kitchen reading the newspaper.

  “Hey there!” Matt stood and crossed the room as CJ dropped her overnight bag on the floor. “I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”

  “The DA had me testify first thing this morning,” CJ explained, reaching up to press her lips to his. The tension in her neck and shoulders eased as his arms came around her and pulled her close.

  “I missed you.” Matt skimmed his fingers along her jaw and studied her a moment. “Did everything go okay?”

  “It was fine.” CJ let out a sigh. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Me too.” Matt took her hand and nodded toward the kitchen table. “Come sit down and eat something. You can tell me about it over breakfast.”

  “It’s almost one o’clock,” CJ pointed out, sitting down across from him. Taking a look at what he had chosen for breakfast, she shook her head, wondering if he would ever outgrow Lucky Charms. “What time do you have to leave for your game?”

  “In a few minutes.” Matt settled back into his chair and took a bite of his marshmallow-laden cereal. “By the way, thanks for leaving me that note about my car.”

  CJ grinned widely. Right before leaving for her trip, the mechanic working on Matt’s car had called and left a voice mail saying that he could pick the car up anytime. Knowing that he wasn’t likely to check for voice mails, she had left him a note in the one place he was guaranteed to find it: inside the cookie jar. “How long did it take you to find it?”

  “Let’s see.” He tapped a finger to his lips. “I walked in from the game, kicked off my shoes, and went into the kitchen.” Matt nodded as though recalling a distant memory. “It must have been two, maybe three minutes after I got home before I found it.”

  “You always have had a weakness for my chocolate-chip cookies.” CJ laughed.

  “Very true.” Matt glanced at his watch and stood up. “I’d better get going.”

  CJ nodded, tipping her head back to kiss him good-bye. “Have a good game.”

  “See you later.” Matt picked up his suit jacket and slipped it on as he headed for the hallway leading to the downstairs entrance. “I love you.”

  “Love you too!” CJ called after him. She moved to the window, standing there for several minutes until she saw Matt’s car pull out onto the street below. With the beautiful weather, she looked forward to attending Matt’s game after her evening practice.

  On days like these, with Matt in town, CJ felt that her life was on track, at least in the most important area—her marriage. Still smiling, she turned away from the window and headed to the bedroom to get ready for swim practice.

  * * *

  The pool was quiet when CJ walked in for the first time after the trial. The lifeguard was still setting out gear in anticipation of the five o’clock practice that would begin in another ten minutes. CJ’s coach wasn’t on deck yet, and she reminded herself of the reason she had given him for missing practice. Not for the first time, the excuse was a family funeral; personally, CJ felt that excuse had been used far too often.

  She dropped her bag onto a deck chair, noticing for the first time that the events for the upcoming meet had been posted on the team bulletin board. Nerves jumped in her stomach as she walked the few yards to the bulletin board. When she had signed up for the meet, she had planned to enter the 100-meter breaststroke, 200-meter breaststroke, and 200-meter individual medley.

  Scanning the lineup, CJ finally found her name. Under it was listed only one event, the 200-meter breaststroke. She read over the list again, hoping there had been some mistake, but again she found that she was only listed as competing in the one event.

  CJ began reading the events a third time, this time looking at the events her teammates were signed up for. Each of them had at least two events, some as many as five or six events. When she noticed Bridget Bannon’s name, she read her events and shook her head. Bridget had been entered in both the 100- and 200-meter breaststroke events, both individual medleys, the 100-meter freestyle, and every relay.

  As hard as she tried, CJ couldn’t understand her coach’s logic. Surely he would want her to swim in the 100-meter breaststroke and the 200-meter individual medley. She had posted the best times on the team during the past month, surpassing Bridget Bannon’s times in both events. Why would he only enter her in the one event where Bridget would definitely beat her, and why would he give Bridget all of the relay spots when CJ was faster on the shorter breaststroke distances?

  So sure that she could finally achieve her Olympic trials qualifying times in her best events, CJ shook her head in frustration. Then she saw her coach, Aaron, enter the pool area.

  “So you made it back,” he stated simply as he started to pass by her.

  “I wanted to ask you about my event for this weekend.”

  Aaron sighed. “What about it?”

  “I just wanted to know why I wasn’t entered into any other events,” CJ said.

  “You missed practice,” Aaron declared.

  “What?” CJ stared at him with disbelief. “I was at a funeral. I was only gone thirty-six hours.”

  Aaron shrugged. “Look, you’ll have a chance to swim in more events at the next meet. It’s only a couple of weeks away.”

  “Will I be able to swim the 100 breast and the 200 IM?”

  “We’ll see.” Aaron stepped away from her, glancing briefly over his shoulder. “We’re already pretty set in those events.”

  At that moment, Bridget walked in from the lo
cker room. CJ wondered if her heart had simply stopped when she realized for the first time what was happening. Bridget didn’t want CJ anywhere near an event that CJ might win.

  Anger flowing through her veins, CJ nearly turned and walked out of the building. But a more rational thought came quietly and clearly. Where could I go? Her body shook with anger as she dove in and began her workout. Despite her emotions, she found comfort as she glided through the water, swimming freestyle for her warm-up. As she put the yards behind her, anger gave way to logic, and she realized she could still get her qualifying time in the 200-meter breaststroke the following weekend. It was a long shot for her to make the Olympics in the event, but at least she could qualify for the Olympic trials. But then what?

  CJ didn’t know how she could possibly change teams, and she knew that competing without a coach would be virtually impossible. She continued her workout, barely hearing anything her coach said. When Aaron finally lined the swimmers up for sprints, CJ noticed that Bridget waited for CJ to line up and chose to swim in a different group.

  Her suspicions that Bridget didn’t want to compete against her grew, and for the first time CJ glimpsed the depth of the politics that sometimes ruled the sports world.

  * * *

  Matt opened his door and forced his exhausted body to move up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with CJ. He had fully planned on falling face-first into bed and letting himself slide into oblivion. That was until he saw the bed was empty.

  He glanced at his watch, seeing that it was already after one o’clock in the morning. Surprised that CJ wasn’t in bed, he moved down the hall to the living room. She was curled up on the couch, her eyes swollen and her cheeks tearstained. The only light in the room came from the flames flickering in the fireplace in front of her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  CJ just shook her head. Tears threatened, but she swallowed hard. “My coach isn’t going to let me swim the 100. I can’t qualify if I can’t swim it.”

  Matt looked at her more closely, surprised to see defeat in her eyes. He couldn’t ever remember a time when she had given up on anything. “Why won’t he let you swim it?”

  “I think it’s because I can beat Bridget.” CJ swiped at a stray tear as he sat down next to her.

  “What makes you say that?” Matt reached his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Bridget’s family practically owns this team, and no one wants to upset the balance, least of all the coach.” CJ leaned her head against his shoulder. “I beat her twice in practice last week, both times in the 100 breaststroke, yet Aaron gave Bridget the spot in the medley relay. The only event he signed me up for is the 200 breast, which is the one thing Bridget can beat me in. When I asked Aaron if I could swim the 100 breast and the 200 IM in the next meet, he said that they were pretty set in those races.”

  “CJ, you’re going to have to switch teams.”

  CJ shifted so that she could see him more clearly. “Matt, do you understand what that would mean? The Olympic trials are three months away. No coach in his right mind would pick up a new swimmer this late in the game.”

  “Then do it without a coach,” Matt suggested.

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Look, why don’t you see how this meet goes?” Matt asked. “Doug is nervous enough about you competing. It might be a good thing that you’re only swimming one of your weaker events. If the focus stays on Bridget, hopefully the wrong people won’t notice you.”

  “I guess.”

  “Come on.” Matt stood up and, with little effort, scooped CJ off of the couch. “It’s time for bed.”

  CJ reached up and kissed her husband. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Me too.”

  * * *

  CJ’s team was spread out in a corner of the pool area, some playing cards, others watching the meet, and still others preparing to swim. CJ stood apart, needing the space both physically and emotionally from the coach she had thought would support her Olympic dreams.

  Deep down, the seed had been planted. Did he think she wasn’t good enough to compete in the Olympics, or did he really just want to protect the swimmer he had been training for nearly a decade? Bridget had been competing consistently since her childhood. CJ hadn’t been in a single meet in almost a year.

  She pushed the negative thoughts aside, trying instead to think about Matt’s baseball game. She held a miniature radio in her hand, one earpiece in her right ear so she could listen to the game and the other earpiece hanging free so she could hear the swim-meet events being announced. Matt had not come into the game yet, and she was hopeful that he would get at least a few innings. After all, if he was going to spend the next three days in New York, he should at least get the chance to play.

  Out of the corner of her eye, CJ glimpsed Aaron giving Bridget some last minute instructions before she began her warm-up for the 200-meter breaststroke. CJ stayed where she was, already aware that she wouldn’t receive the same level of attention. For the past two days at practice, Aaron had hardly spoken to her except when he instructed the team as a group.

  Bridget had decided the day before to skip practice so that she could rest, yet no changes had been made to her events despite missing nearly as much pool time as CJ had earlier in the week.

  The commentator on the radio announced a pitching change as CJ pulled her earpiece out and tucked her radio inside her bag. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, a sense of anticipation to finally race again. She grabbed her towel and pulled off her shorts and T-shirt before heading to the warm-up lanes. Bridget was already in the pool, smoothly cutting through the water.

  CJ chose a different lane and began swimming freestyle to loosen up. A few minutes later, she switched to breaststroke, working on a few turns and her stroke count before getting out of the pool to check in for her race.

  She tried not to think about the fact that Bridget was in the lane next to her. The coach’s time CJ had been entered with was from a timed swim a few weeks before. Although she knew her times had been dropping over the past few weeks, she hadn’t expected to be seeded as one of the top swimmers with just a practice time. For swimmers’ entry times, coaches normally used times clocked in previous meets, since that was where swimmers typically had their fastest times. Practice times tended to be inherently slower than race results because it was hard to re-create the competitive atmosphere and adrenaline rush of an actual meet.

  When CJ reached her lane, she let herself visualize the race. She swam it so often in practice, yet so many months had passed since she last felt that rush of adrenaline that came only from competition. Could she make the cut for the Olympic trials, and if so, could she possibly make it to the Olympics in this event?

  As the defending world champion, Bridget was expected to take first place at the Olympic trials and the pressure was already on her to bring home the gold. They take two from each event, CJ reminded herself. The first- and second-place finishers in each event at the Olympic trials would make the Olympic team. Even if Bridget’s times were out of her reach, CJ could still try to claim the second-place spot at the trials.

  The swimmer on the other side of her leaned down over the side of the pool and splashed water on herself. Having dried off after her warm-up, CJ opted to stay dry until she started her race. She didn’t mind the shock of the cold water. In fact, she was convinced that the rush of cold water helped her shake off the lingering nerves that she always struggled with while waiting for her race to start.

  Staring out over the pool in front of her, CJ pressed her goggles into place as her heat was announced. When the whistle blew, she stepped up onto the block, her heart racing. A hush came over the crowd for the beginning of the race as the starter’s voice sounded through the starting system and commanded them to take their marks.

  The buzzer sounded and CJ dove into the water with her competition. The shock of the cold water lasted only a second, and CJ let
her body take over. She held her body in a tight, streamlined position until she felt the momentum from her dive start to slow. Then she pulled both arms down past her waist, increasing the speed at which her body flew through the water. The moment she felt her speed decreasing, her powerful kick thrust her forward, and she surfaced to begin her first full stroke.

  She pushed her arms up and out over the water’s surface, squeezing her shoulders forward to reduce the resistance her body would create as she moved through the water. She found her rhythm early and reminded herself not to focus on the swimmers next to her but rather to concentrate on the race she planned to swim. She tried to increase her speed as she approached the first turn, nervousness still humming through her.

  When she hit the 50-meter mark, CJ saw that she had already negated the lead Bridget had taken at the start. At the halfway point, they were still dead even. Not until the last turn did Bridget’s height advantage manifest itself. CJ saw Bridget pulling away, and she concentrated on letting her kick push her efficiently through the water as she attempted to stay close to Bridget. Despite CJ’s efforts, she still finished nearly two seconds behind Bridget.

  CJ looked up at the scoreboard, a grin crossing her face when she saw that her time had qualified her for the Olympic trials. She rested on the lane line between her lane and Bridget’s, stretching out her hand. “Nice swim, Bridget.”

  Bridget glanced at CJ’s hand before turning her back on CJ and climbing out of the pool.

  CJ looked after her, surprised at the complete lack of sportsmanship.

  “Don’t worry about her,” a voice came from behind her.

  CJ turned to see the girl that had placed a few seconds behind her leaning with both arms over the lane rope. “You had a great swim. She isn’t used to having someone push her that hard.”

  “Thanks.” CJ accepted the girl’s outstretched hand and then pulled herself out of the pool. She turned back and added, “Good luck with the rest of the meet.”