“Have you seen the newspaper today?”
“Which one?” Matt wondered, grinning as he snatched the last of CJ’s breakfast.
“Any of them.” Concern coated Katherine’s normally calm voice. “Matt, the pictures are everywhere. The tabloids, the newspapers, the Internet . . .”
“Pictures?” Matt interrupted, wondering if his father’s latest political stand on the homeless had landed him on the wrong side of the press. “Pictures of what?”
“Pictures of you.” Katherine hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “You on the beach, at your hotel.”
“What?” Matt interrupted, standing abruptly. The chair he had been sitting on crashed to the floor as he pushed away from the table and began to pace. If CJ had been photographed with him . . . He couldn’t even finish the thought. Still he forced himself to ask the question. “Are you telling me that I’m not alone in these pictures?”
“I’m sorry, Matt, but that’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Katherine said. “One of your father’s aides came across one in the Washington Post, and I’m afraid his research turned up several others.”
“I’ll call you back later,” Matt sighed. “Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?” CJ asked as soon as Matt hung up the phone.
“Call Doug.” Matt retrieved CJ’s cell phone from her purse and handed it to her.
“Why?”
“My mom said there are pictures of us in the paper this morning.” Matt picked up the hotel phone again and pressed the button for the concierge.
“Oh, no,” CJ breathed, the color draining from her face. She flipped open her phone and pressed speed dial for Doug. While she quickly told Doug about Matt’s phone call, Matt asked the concierge to send up a copy of every newspaper they carried.
As soon as CJ hung up, Matt asked, “What did Doug say?”
“He’s on his way up.” CJ moved into his arms and looked up at him, tears threatening.
“Don’t worry.” Matt brushed her hair back from her face and tried to think of something positive. “At least this didn’t happen a couple of days ago.”
The first tear spilled over, and CJ voiced the worst of her fears. “What if Doug says we can’t be together, that Malloy will keep coming after me? How can we spend the rest of our lives trying to steal bits of time together? That’s not a real life.”
“CJ, it can’t be that bad,” Matt said, hoping his words were true. “Worst case, I come up with some kind of injury and quit baseball so we can go hide out in some little town where no one has ever heard of us. I can be a sheepherder or farmer or something.”
“Stop trying to cheer me up.” CJ’s lips curled up at the thought of her husband trying to herd a bunch of sheep. “This is serious.”
“And we’ll deal with it,” Matt assured her. “I mean, how bad can it be?”
Ten minutes later CJ, Matt, and Doug stared at the stack of newspapers the bellboy had delivered a few moments earlier. “This is bad.”
The photographs and articles featuring CJ and Matt appeared in all the local newspapers, as well as in some tabloids. A large photograph, undoubtedly taken their first night in town, graced the front page of one tabloid. Matt was standing on the balcony, CJ swept up in his embrace, both laughing and both easily identifiable. Ironically, the only people that would recognize CJ as Matt’s wife were his family and the men trying to kill her. A smaller photograph showed CJ and Matt kissing on the beach, leaving no doubt as to the romantic nature of their relationship.
Other papers contained smaller articles, some in the society pages and others in the sports section. Each one featured clear images of Matt and CJ together.
Matt dropped into a chair as reality set in. They were going to find her. Rush’s trial was just weeks away, and Matt’s fame might very well cost him the one thing he held most dear.
He felt CJ’s hand on his shoulder as she perused the articles in front of them. He couldn’t even look at her. How could he ever forgive himself if something happened to her? He knew it wasn’t his fault that the photographs existed, but he hadn’t become a professional baseball player by accident.
CJ stood for a moment by his side, her hand caressing his arm as she stared at the front page of a trashy magazine. “Matt, you have to let the Secret Service assign someone to protect you.”
“I’m not worried about me,” Matt said pointedly.
“I am.” CJ’s voice cracked, and she took a deep breath before continuing. “I can hide out. You can’t hide without giving up your career.”
“I’m not in any danger. Hurting me serves no purpose.” Matt forced himself to look at his wife.
“She’s right,” Doug interrupted. “You need to have some protection, if for no other reason than to give CJ some comfort.”
“I don’t see any point . . .” Matt trailed off when he caught the expression on Doug’s face. He was right. CJ wasn’t going to be able to function if she spent all of her time worrying about him. “Okay, I’ll have Dad send a couple of Secret Service agents my way until after Rush’s trial.”
“Thank you.” CJ leaned down and kissed his cheek. She began flipping through the tabloid on the top of the stack. “I don’t think this looks too much like me.”
“Yeah, it does.” Matt looked at the next paper in the stack, the Washington Post. He flipped through several sections before finding the photographs on the third page of the Style section.
“Doug, why don’t you sit down?” CJ motioned to a chair. “You two can find the articles, and I’ll cut them out.”
“Why are you cutting them out?” Matt asked, wondering briefly if CJ was losing her mind.
“Someday, we’re all going to look back on this day and laugh about this.” CJ lifted her eyes to meet his, worry showing despite her light words. “We might as well save the evidence of how bad it really was.”
Matt’s eyes looked on CJ’s. “Do you understand that Rush is going to know that we’re still together? He’s going to send someone after you again.”
“He’s going to send someone after me no matter what we do.” CJ’s voice took on an edge. “We knew it was going to get worse before it got better. We just didn’t know it was going to get this bad.” She glanced briefly at Doug before continuing. “Come on. Someday, our kids are going to want to see these.”
Matt stared at her for a moment, cheered slightly by her mention of the future they had planned. It wouldn’t help to think of all of the obstacles they still had to overcome. Instead, he pushed thoughts of challenges aside, determined to believe that they could still create a life together.
He stared down at the grainy photographs again, studying them more closely. He could definitely tell that it was CJ in the photos with him, but would everyone else be able to identify her? Her hair was lighter since she moved to Florida, and the length had changed over the years from long to boyishly short to its current medium length.
“You should cut your hair,” Matt declared, finally setting down the newspaper he held.
“I was thinking the same thing.” CJ set one of the clipped articles aside. “Of course, I’ll have to adjust all of my goggles again.”
Matt had to smile. Here she was facing another assassination attempt, and she was worried about her goggles. “You still have a few weeks until the trials.”
He settled down at the table, hoping that the future they were speaking of was only a few weeks away.
Chapter 20
Jimmy Malloy tugged at the sleeve of his suit jacket and tried to ignore the sweltering heat. He rapped a knuckle against the door of the apartment that was the last-known address of Christal Jones, a.k.a. Kylie Ramsey.
A tall blond answered the door and gave him a questioning look. Malloy mentally flipped through his research and identified her as Jill Lancaster, one of Christal Jones’s previous roommates.
Malloy offered her a business card that claimed he was a reporter for the Dallas Morning News. “I am doing a story on Kylie Ramsey,
and I hoped I could ask you a few questions.”
Jill glanced at her watch before answering. “I was actually just on my way out. I’m afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes.”
“Oh.” Malloy let a little disappointment lace his voice. “Well, would you be able to direct me to any of her other friends here in town? I really wanted to get some behind-the-scenes kind of information before she competes in the Olympic trials.”
“She made the Olympic trials?” Jill asked, surprised. “I had no idea.”
“That’s why I’ve been assigned to do a story on her.”
“Well, you might ask around at the college, but she didn’t socialize a lot while she lived here.” Jill picked up her purse from the table by the door and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
Malloy stepped back and nodded, trying not to look annoyed. “I’ll try that.”
Jill stepped toward the parking lot. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Malloy waited for her to take a few steps. “Oh, one last thing. I wonder if you might know if she has a good-luck charm—you know, something she always carries with her.”
Jill gave him an odd look. “Not that I know of. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
Malloy watched her climb into her car. As she put the car in gear and drove past him, she gave a smile and a wave. He took several steps toward the car he had rented, then stopped as soon as Jill’s car pulled out of sight. Glancing quickly around the parking lot, he reversed course and walked back to Jill’s front door.
With one last look around, he retrieved a case from the inside pocket of his jacket, quickly selecting a tool. He inserted it into the lock, working it for nearly fifteen seconds before the lock clicked open. Using a handkerchief, he opened the door, and without a backwards glance, he stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him.
He stood motionless just inside the door for a full minute, listening for any life within the apartment. His research told him that Jill lived by herself, but surprises had been known to happen. Removing a pair of gloves from his pocket, he pulled them on, grateful that he appeared to be alone.
Making a quick sweep of the apartment, he took in the Southwestern décor and photographs hanging on the walls. One bedroom was completely empty, and a second had been fashioned into a den. The third bedroom obviously belonged to Jill.
Malloy began in this bedroom, searching quickly for diaries, photographs, or anything that might reveal information about the former roommate or the diamonds she most certainly had in her possession. A shoebox filled with photographs revealed nothing, as did the framed photos hanging on the walls. In fact, he was unable to find a single photo with Christal Jones in it.
Working rapidly, he checked the den and the empty bedroom, and then moved on to the living room. Frustrated at his lack of success, he started yanking open kitchen drawers. A search of the junk drawer finally proved he was in the right place, as he discovered a photograph of Jill, Christal Jones, and another girl. He assumed the third girl to be the roommate who had recently moved out.
The photograph had clearly been taken inside the apartment, the three of them sitting on the couch, their arms slung casually around each other. Christal sat on the left, one arm around Jill, and in the other hand she held a small teddy bear. Malloy studied it for a long moment. The men he had sent after the cop had mentioned that the girl was holding a stuffed animal when she had gone into the bedroom. He shook his head, wondering if it could really be that easy. Was the teddy bear the hiding place? Could she really have been carrying around millions of dollars worth of diamonds and never realized what she had?
Malloy slipped the photo into his jacket pocket and quickly made sure that the apartment looked just as it had when he arrived. Then, with a rare smile on his face, Malloy let himself out and strolled over to his rental car. If all went well, he expected those diamonds would be in his hands very shortly.
* * *
Jill waited by the front door while Doug went through her apartment. He had planned his flight back from LA to go through Dallas so they could spend some time together, but this wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. A minute passed before he motioned her inside and closed the door.
“Look around,” Doug said in his official voice. “See if anything looks out of place.”
Still rooted just inside, Jill set her purse on the table by the door and glanced around the living room. “Everything looks exactly the same,” she sighed, embarrassed that her description of her unexpected visitor had landed them at her apartment instead of at the Dallas restaurant where they had planned to eat. “I’m sorry, Doug. I must have overreacted. That guy just really gave me the creeps, and he was asking such weird questions.”
“I don’t think you overreacted,” Doug replied. “Look around and see if anything is missing.”
Reluctantly, Jill went to her room and checked her jewelry box, finding that the pearl necklace her mother had given her was still inside. She checked the drawer where she kept some emergency cash hidden and found it undisturbed. After glancing in the other bedrooms, she went into the kitchen, where Doug was dusting for fingerprints.
“What are you doing?” Jill asked, watching him swirl the little brush over her cabinets and drawers. “It doesn’t look like anyone was in here. I haven’t found anything missing.”
“Has anyone been in the apartment besides you in the last day or two?”
Jill shook her head. “Why?”
“I smelled a trace of men’s cologne when I first walked in. Someone has been in here today.” Doug stood up and shook his head. “I’ll have to run these prints through the lab, but I have a feeling they all belong to you and me. If it doesn’t look like anything was disturbed, this guy must be a professional.”
“A professional what?” Jill’s eyes widened.
“Criminal.” Doug crossed to her and put his hands on her arms. “Come on. Let’s get you packed. You aren’t staying here anymore.”
“What?” Jill looked at him, stunned.
“This guy was looking for CJ. I’m not going to stand by and watch you get caught in the crossfire.”
“I don’t believe this.” Jill shook her head. “What am I going to do with my stuff? Our house isn’t ready yet.”
“Pack up what you want to keep with you for now.” Doug pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll have everything else moved into storage until we can move into the house.”
“Where am I supposed to stay?”
“Between my family and yours, I’m sure we can work something out.” Doug nodded toward her bedroom. “Go ahead and pack. I’ll take care of everything else.”
Jill took a few steps before turning back to Doug. “Is this what it’s like for CJ?”
Doug evaded the question. “It’ll be over soon.”
* * *
They were everywhere. Matt stared at the hordes of paparazzi outside of his building, cameras perched in readiness. The phone call from his parents had warned him that something like this might happen, but he hadn’t anticipated anything on this scale.
After growing up in the political spotlight, dealing with reporters was second nature to Matt. However, the reporters that had occasionally snapped his picture throughout his teenage and early college years seemed minor compared to the swarm blocking the entrance to his building. With the senator’s help, Doug had assigned Matt two Secret Service agents for his safety. Matt was beginning to wonder if they were supposed to protect him from the people in Rush’s organization or from the media circus unfolding downstairs.
Though he still believed that Rush and those working for him would be wasting their time coming after him, the possibility existed. For all he knew, Rush had men disguised as reporters waiting for him downstairs. Since Rush’s trial was already underway, he was much more worried about his wife’s safety. From what he had been told, the prosecution would use CJ as their final witness, thus laying the groundwork for her testimony.
Knowing how many t
imes Rush had tried and failed to silence CJ, Matt was grateful for the security of the Secret Service. If nothing else, he hoped they would be able to spot anyone trying to locate CJ through him.
Matt waited in his condo until one of the Secret Service agents came to get him after clearing a path to the parking garage beneath the building. He wasn’t sure how they managed to get him out of his condo, into the government vehicle, and to the stadium unnoticed.
The press had taken every opportunity to hound Matt at the game the day before. For security reasons, management had limited the number of reporters in the clubhouse that night. Matt was surprised the team had even extended that assistance after he had refused to give any kind of statement to them or the press.
Matt breathed a sigh of relief when he made it into the locker room and only had to deal with the questioning looks of his teammates. They all knew he was a Latter-day Saint, and over the past season, many of them had come to understand his moral standards. With the pictures of him and CJ at his hotel room and the suggestive headlines and stories in the tabloids, he worried that everyone thought that he had let down his standards—the same standards that many thought were set too high to begin with.
Tensions were already rising as talk of a trade continued. Everyone knew that someone on the team was about to be traded, and rumors had leaked out that Matt wanted to be that someone. Naturally, his teammates wondered why he didn’t want to stay with them.
Now that Matt and CJ had been linked together in the papers, he wasn’t sure a trade was in his future after all. As he looked around the locker room, though, he knew that staying wasn’t going to be any easier than going.
Shortly after the team completed batting practice, the team manager called Matt into his office. Matt took the seat across from him, not sure what to expect.
“Well, kid, it looks like you aren’t going to be with the Phillies after tonight.” The manager handed Matt a file which outlined the details of his trade to the Florida Marlins.
Matt stared at the file. For weeks he had hoped and prayed this would happen, but he hadn’t known how complicated his life would become when those prayers were answered. If he had been traded just a week earlier, he never would have met CJ in California and they wouldn’t have been photographed together. Now if he moved to Florida, he could be leading Rush’s men right to CJ. Of course, he had no choice now; the negotiations were already finished.
The Deep End Page 16