The Deep End

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “Yeah, I do,” CJ agreed as he carried her into the room.

  * * *

  Stifling a yawn, Matt fumbled with his hotel keycard. He slid it into the lock twice before the lock clicked open. He rolled his shoulders as he stepped inside the room, wincing from the pain in his side where he had come down hard diving for a ball. He didn’t notice that the lights were still on in the room until he was several steps inside.

  He moved to the bed, smiling when he saw the figure curled under the blankets. Quietly, he moved closer, kneeling down next to his wife. In one hand she held onto the comforter, tucking it under her chin for warmth. She looked so peaceful sleeping in his bed.

  Soon, he told himself, they would be together. One way or another, he was determined to be with her before the summer was over. He hated being away from her, even for a day. Before she had been relocated, she had teased him that he was overprotective. Now he had come to need her more than he had ever thought possible.

  He reached out a hand and brushed her hair from her cheek. She stirred slightly when he kissed her. Her eyelids fluttered and then she settled back into a deep sleep. Experience told him that a hurricane could pass directly over them and CJ would sleep right through it.

  Exhausted both emotionally and physically, Matt slid into bed and wrapped a proprietary arm around her waist. Moments later he was sound asleep too.

  * * *

  Ring. Ring. Ring. Blurry eyed, Matt spotted the phone on the bedside table and plucked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  A cheerful voice came over the line. “This is your wake-up call, Mr. Whitmore.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Four thirty, sir.”

  “Why would I want to get up at four thirty?” Matt rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Movement next to him in the bed reminded him of the reason for such an early call. “Never mind,” he muttered and hung up.

  “Four thirty?” Matt asked groggily, flopping back onto the bed.

  “Hi, honey.” CJ grinned at him and gave him a smacking kiss on his cheek. He looked up at her, half annoyed that she could look so cheerful at this hour.

  “Did you have to schedule practice for this early in the morning?”

  “I have to take what I can get.” She climbed out of bed and picked up her swim bag. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Maybe I’ll even pick up some breakfast on my way back.”

  “Krispy Kreme doughnuts,” Matt mumbled, promptly rolling over and sliding back into unconsciousness.

  CJ smiled. She had tried to wait up for him the night before. After watching the first three innings of his game on television, she realized that she was never going to make it. Early-morning swim practices just didn’t agree with late-night games.

  Sliding her swim bag over her shoulder, she headed for the front door. She peeked out into the hall, grateful to find it empty except for the dark-haired U.S. Marshal standing a few yards away. He moved forward to escort her downstairs as she slipped out the door. Together they headed for the stairwell and made their way outside. Lacey was already waiting in the car when they emerged from the hotel.

  “Did you draw the short straw again?” CJ asked when she climbed into the car.

  Lacey raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t even have time for a cup of coffee.”

  “That stuff’s bad for you anyway,” CJ retorted. “Tell you what. I’ll buy you a nice glass of milk when we stop for breakfast on the way back.”

  “Stop where?”

  CJ lowered her voice when she saw Pete approaching the car. “Krispy Kreme.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  * * *

  The FedEx packages were addressed and stacked on the dresser in his hotel room. Wyatt Murphy debated whether to seal the oversized envelopes and ship them out now, or if he should try to add a bit more weight first. The fees he would collect for his latest success would undoubtedly pay for a nice, extended vacation in a place with warm beaches and cold water.

  His hand rested patiently on the camera that hung from his neck. He tried not to think of how much time he spent waiting around for just a few seconds worth of photography. Murphy sighed. That was the nature of the job.

  “Paparazzi” sounded so ugly to most people, yet those same people were the reason he was still employed. Just give them a good picture and a teasing headline, and they couldn’t help themselves. They would snatch those tabloids off the stands faster than they could print them.

  He imagined these latest prints would sell quite a few copies. Murphy exhaled slowly. The thought of taking a little time off was so tempting, but if he tapped into that well of patience he used so often in staking out a subject, he knew that he might get lucky again. Then he would use his fine art of negotiating to secure a bonus that could tempt him to consider an early retirement. Wyatt weighed his options for a few minutes more. As he calculated his fees from the tabloids and the bonus he planned to receive, he expected he could pad his bank account enough that he could give up the hours of waiting in shadows at all hours of the day and night.

  Copies of his most recent prints were spread out on the table, and he grinned at his good fortune. Could he get so fortunate again? Glancing at the stack of envelopes, Wyatt grabbed his camera. It wouldn’t hurt to sit on those photos for a couple of days. After all, maybe lady luck wasn’t quite done smiling on him.

  Chapter 19

  When CJ and Lacey found their seats in Dodger Stadium, the first inning was just starting. CJ’s second practice of the day had run late, her concession to Pete for allowing her to take the afternoon and evening off.

  Matt was already hard at work, fielding a line drive for the first out of the inning and then stretching for a throw from the third baseman that was just a little too late to make another out. The center fielder caught a long fly ball for the second out, and the pitcher managed a strikeout for the third.

  Matt had started the last couple of games at first base while the starting first baseman recovered from a minor hamstring pull. The newscasters had keyed in more than a week before that management was in the process of trading Matt.

  When CJ had asked Matt about the trade situation, his answer had been uncharacteristically vague. CJ wasn’t sure if he really didn’t know anything or if he just hadn’t wanted to spend what little time they had talking about something uncertain. She hoped and prayed that whatever happened with his career might enable them to be together again.

  She had already come to terms with the fact that they would have to live apart until after Rush’s trial and possibly beyond. Though she couldn’t imagine what life would be like without the hours of training each day, she saw the Olympics as not only that magic moment when her childhood dreams could come true, but also the turning point after which she could make being with Matt her first priority.

  On the field below, Matt glanced at the crowd as he headed for the visitors’ dugout. CJ watched him disappear from sight and schooled her vision back to the field. Though it wasn’t easy, CJ tried to blend in with the Los Angeles crowd. Trying not to cheer when Matt’s team did well was almost as difficult as trying to watch the game instead of staring at her husband.

  She held her breath when Matt stepped up to the plate for his first turn at bat. Connecting with the second pitch, he hit a line drive right at the shortstop who made the easy out. Like Matt, the other Phillies players struggled at the plate as the Dodgers’ pitcher continued to throw strikes on the edge of the strike zone.

  By the bottom of the eighth inning, Los Angeles led by five runs. Realizing that a loss for her husband’s team was imminent, CJ picked up her purse and nudged Lacey, who stood and escorted her to the exit. Though CJ wanted to see the end of the game to support Matt, she felt it best to avoid the post-game traffic.

  Numerous other fans apparently had the same idea. Already people were streaming from the stadium and heading for their cars. CJ hesitated when she and Lacey reached the crowded parking lot. Her tennis shoes crunched on the grav
el, and the smell of exhaust assaulted her senses. Someone bumped into her and sent her stumbling forward, but Lacey grabbed her arm before she lost her balance completely.

  As another large group of baseball fans swarmed past them, the image of hiding under the van in Minneapolis flashed in CJ’s mind. She could remember too clearly the feel of the cold pavement beneath her, the sound of approaching footsteps. Why it appeared so vividly in her mind after almost two months, she didn’t know. She could only guess that the stress from competing in three swim meets in as many days had left her both exhausted and vulnerable. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, Lacey was still at her side, patiently waiting.

  “Sorry,” CJ muttered.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head and took her by the arm. “Come on.”

  She let him lead her to the car, ignoring the pounding of her heart. She hated being afraid. For so long she had worked at convincing herself that she was living a normal life. Now that the day was quickly approaching that she would finally testify, she felt like she was starting over again.

  After the trial, the government would no longer need her, their only obligation being to provide her with safety if she chose to remain in the Witness Protection Program. Until she saw Malloy at the swim meet in Minneapolis, she had decided to leave the program right after she testified. Now she wasn’t so sure she would be able to.

  While CJ looked on, Lacey went through his usual ritual of retrieving a tool from the trunk to examine the underside of the car. CJ’s mood lightened when she considered the absurdity of the idea that someone had planted a bomb on a rental car in the middle of a crowded parking lot.

  “You don’t really think someone would plant a bomb with all of these people around, do you?” CJ asked, her voice carrying a touch of humor.

  Lacey stopped just long enough to glance up at her. “No.”

  “Then why go through this exercise every time we go to a game?”

  “Just standard operating procedure,” Lacey said with a shrug. After checking beneath the car, he then popped the hood and completed his inspection. “If we really thought that going to Matt’s games was a significant threat, we never would have let you anywhere near a stadium.”

  “I guess I never thought of it that way,” CJ replied, her mood sobering once more as she considered how much research went into every little thing she did, from where she practiced to how she spent her free time.

  Lacey opened the passenger side door for her and then rounded the hood and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Are you and Matt still meeting at the beach after the game?”

  CJ nodded.

  “It’s a bit of a drive. Let’s head down there now and get some dinner.” He started the car and put it in gear, glancing over at CJ. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry I panicked back there.” CJ shook her head in frustration. “I just looked at all of those cars and felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

  “You know, you’re allowed to be human.”

  “I’ll just be glad when all of this is over,” CJ sighed. “It’s hard to believe that after hiding for all of this time, the last trial is just a few weeks away.”

  Lacey studied her for a moment. “Do you really think that once Rush is behind bars you will feel safe?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know if I can spend the rest of my life hiding.” CJ turned to look out the window, barely noticing the palm trees scattered everywhere, from the landscaping outside of the stadium to the used car lot down the road.

  Three hours later, CJ stepped out onto the beach alone. Over dinner she had reminded herself how lucky she was to have this time with Matt. Determined not to let her earlier panic attack ruin her date with her husband, CJ slipped her sandals off and stepped onto the cooling sand. She watched the waves crashing on the shore and lifted her face to the breeze coming off the water. A hodgepodge of people loitered on the beach and in the nearby clubs and bars, some still dressed in swimming suits and others dressed for the Los Angeles nightlife.

  Lacey had settled down on the terrace of one of the restaurants overlooking the beach, looking very much like a local enjoying an after-dinner drink. Still, CJ felt safer knowing he was there.

  The last of the sun’s rays glistened off the Pacific Ocean just beyond the wide stretch of sand. Drawn to the nearly vacant beach, CJ started toward the water. She had only taken a few steps when she turned to see Matt approaching. He moved easily in the thinning crowd, his eyes scanning the scene until he saw her. As he closed the distance between them, his stride lengthened.

  Their eyes locked and held, and everything else faded away. When she moved into his arms, CJ forgot the other people along the beach. There might have only been the two of them. She buried her head in his shoulder as his hand moved to her hair.

  “Are you okay?” Matt ran a hand down her arm and back up again.

  CJ nodded, emotions robbing her of her voice. She blinked back the tears that threatened and took a deep, cleansing breath before looking up at Matt. “I can’t remember the last time we went out on a date together.”

  “Sure you can.” Matt slipped an arm around her waist and started walking toward the water. “It was when you met me in Florida during spring training.”

  “I just wish I knew when I would see you next.” CJ walked alongside him as darkness fell.

  “It won’t be much longer,” Matt assured her. “One way or another, we’ll work something out.”

  They walked in silence along the water’s edge, the sound of the waves echoing over the cooling sand. Other couples walked past them hand in hand, but soon Matt and CJ found themselves alone on a stretch of beach not far from Lacey’s watchful eye.

  “What do you look forward to the most when all of this is over?” CJ asked, deliberately pushing Malloy from her mind.

  “Seeing you sitting in the friends’ box with all of the other players’ wives.”

  “Really?” CJ stopped and turned to face him. “I thought visiting your family would be at the top of your list.”

  “They’ve been so good about visiting us that it hasn’t really bothered me that much.” Matt shrugged. “But every time we have a home game, I look into the friends’ box and I hate that you aren’t sitting there with the other wives.”

  “I never really thought about it before, but I’m sure it would be nice to sit with people who know what it’s like to have their husbands gone half of the time.”

  “If I have my way, you will be coming with me on some of the road trips after you’re done competing in the Olympics.”

  “Assuming I make the Olympics,” CJ reminded him with a sigh. She brushed at some sand clinging to her capris, wishing she could brush away her doubts as easily. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it. I spend so many hours training for a competition I may not even qualify for.”

  “You’ll make it,” Matt insisted.

  CJ stopped, turning to face him. “Do you really think it’s worth it?” Before he could answer, she pushed on, forcing herself to voice her doubts out loud. “Every time I compete, so many people risk their safety so that I can follow my dreams. If I come out of the Witness Protection Program, you could be at risk too.”

  “CJ, you’re an athlete. This is what you do.” Matt tugged on her hand so that she would fall into step beside him again. “Doug and the people protecting you understand that swimming is part of who you are and that it helps relieve the incredible amount of stress that comes from being a witness in a high-profile case.”

  “But how is that more important than the safety of the marshal that got shot in Minneapolis, or the agent that doubled for me here in LA?”

  “If you hadn’t been swimming, the government never would have known Malloy was even in the country,” Matt pointed out. “Whether you realize it or not, your actions have helped the government as often as not.”

  “I don’t know.” She looked out at the waves crashing in over the san
d. “Every night when I say my prayers, I wonder if this will be the night that I get the answer that it’s time to stop swimming.”

  “And every night that answer doesn’t come for a reason,” Matt responded gently. “Besides, you can’t give up on your dreams because you might not be fast enough. You would always regret not knowing.”

  “You’re right.” CJ nodded. “I just hope I don’t have any more races like I did in Mission Viejo.”

  “Better there than at the Olympic trials. Besides, no one ever said it was going to be easy.” Matt turned her into his arms, linking both hands around her waist.

  “Are you trying to distract me?” CJ smiled when Matt brushed his lips across hers.

  “Is it working?” Matt asked, running one hand up and then down her back.

  “Mmmm.” CJ closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss. The comfort and security she found in Matt’s arms helped chase away the fears and doubts. Together they turned away from the water crashing behind them, both of them blissfully unaware of the man down the beach with a camera and a telephoto lens.

  * * *

  Matt looked down at his watch when the knock came at the hotel-room door. Seven o’clock in the morning. He was glad he had left his watch on East Coast time. Seven was early, but it sounded much better than four a.m. He opened the door and exchanged a tip for a room-service tray. He set the food on the table just as CJ came out of the bathroom.

  They were going home today. Matt would leave first on a morning flight with the team, and CJ would leave a few hours later. Watching her break off a bite-size piece of muffin and pop it into her mouth, he wished their homes weren’t over a thousand miles apart.

  “Do you want some?” CJ asked, offering him half of the muffin.

  Matt shook his head as the phone rang. He snatched it up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  Katherine Whitmore’s voice came over the phone. “Matt, we have to talk.”

  “Hi, Mom.” Reconsidering his wife’s offer, Matt reached over and broke off a piece of her muffin. “What’s up?”