by Pol Robinson
“I know.” Laura’s fingers twitched, as if she’d started to reach for Cass’s and then had backed off. “Can I tell you something, Coach?”
“Sure.”
“I’m afraid. Of this.” She looked toward Cass and then back up at Sheila. “But I was more afraid today of losing the chance at this.”
“Then,” Sheila said, rising silently to her feet, “I think you should focus on that.”
Laura nodded and when Cass moaned and twitched in her sleep, she carefully reached up and brushed an errant curl from her forehead. “I think I will. But...” She too stood and moved toward the doorway with Sheila. “I have one or two things I think I need to take care of.”
Sheila studied Laura for a long moment. Her face was in profile, lit from one side by the light spilling into the room from the open door. Her expression, so often haunted and tense, was different now. More open. With a strength in it Sheila hadn’t seen for a long time. A very long time. She caught Laura’s eye and said softly, “Amy told you what happened before the race?”
“Yes.” Laura’s voice was firmer.
“And these...things...you have to take care of. Do they involve anyone I know?”
“No one worth mentioning.” Laura’s eyes had been locked upon the sleeping figure in the bed but suddenly snapped up to meet Sheila’s gaze. “Would you stay with her, Coach? I don’t want her to be alone. Not now. Not until I...just not now.”
“Laura—” Sheila began, only to be cut off.
“It’s okay, Sheila. I’m done being an idiot. Now I’m going to be smart about this.”
Laura’s eyes met hers steadily and finally Sheila nodded, satisfied with what she saw there. She told Laura, “I was going to ask the nurse for an update on Sarah. Can you send her in here on your way out?”
Sheila waited for Laura’s nod before stepping back into the room and settling on the chair nearest the bed. She didn’t know what Laura had planned, but she certainly didn’t want to be near Shelly Michaels anytime soon.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Shelly tapped a perfectly manicured nail impatiently as she waited for her cameraman. She glanced at her watch, muttering again at how much time they were wasting. Finally, she grabbed her tote and tapped the man’s arm.
“Look, I’ll meet you at the hospital. I don’t have time for this.”
She ignored his indifferent shrug as she spun on her heel and headed inside. She was looking forward to getting out of this damnable heat, out of this noisy, smelly place. One more week of racing and she would be gone. She was disappointed her little intrigue hadn’t caused more trouble, especially for Laura. It seemed to have done the opposite, in fact, pushing the little snit of a brunette harder. Damn her and her medal. And damn the producers for wanting me to interview her. As she pushed her way through the crowd, Shelly began forming the questions she would ask Cass Flynn. If she worded things right, she could probably stir up more trouble for the little rower. It helped that the crew she beat had been the one Shelly had hinted might be tampered with. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t see the woman standing in her way until it was almost too late.
“Going somewhere, Shelly?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’m here to meet with the...hero.” Shelly pasted a false smile on her face, aware that they were in a crowded lobby. Always have to maintain that air of friendly approachability, even when it kills you.
Laura took Shelly’s arm and steered her out of the lobby and down the hall. They came to a stop at an alcove near Cass’s room. People passed them, intent on their business.
“I’m going to paraphrase you, Shelly. Stay the hell away from Cass. The network can find someone else to interview her.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Why should they?” Shelly stepped away from Laura, staring out the window. “I think a lot of people would like to know more about little Miss Flynn. I’d like to be the one to tell them.” She returned to Laura, stepping close. “A lot of people would like to know if the rumors are true too. It’s interesting, don’t you think, that the boat she beat is the one she’s rumored to have tampered with? I find coincidences so fascinating, don’t you?”
“You’re a piece of work. Why don’t you just leave her out of this?”
“Because, my love, I’m finding it much more satisfying to fuck with her, than I ever did with you. Because when I fuck with her, I am fucking with you.”
“I know you started the rumors about Cass, that you got that message to the officials.”
Shelly shrugged. “So what if it was me? You can’t prove it. That’s the insidious thing about rumors. They’re just little wisps of nothing that can lead to something...or not.” She aimed a sharp smile at Laura. “I am really going to enjoy asking the hero some questions.”
Laura grabbed Shelly’s arm as the reporter stepped back into the hall. She tried again.
“Shel. Don’t do this.”
Shelly shook off Laura’s arm. “Fuck you. You can’t stop me. If I do my job well enough, maybe they’ll end up taking the shiny medal away from your girlfriend. And there’s not a thing you can do about it, is there?”
“Maybe she can’t, but I think I can,” another voice said.
Shelly spun to face the newcomer. Accompanied by a long-legged blond with clear blue eyes, the speaker stepped into Shelly’s personal space, forcing Shelly to take a step back. Her retreat pushed her into Laura, who held her firmly in place. Behind both women was Alanna, her blue eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold before her.
Shelly recovered her poise quickly. She set herself belligerently and squared off with the woman who’d invaded her space. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Jane Zimmerman, sportswriter for ESPN Magazine. And wouldn’t my publishers and my readers—who, by the way, number more than four times your viewership—be interested in the little tête-à-tête I just overheard?” Zimmerman looked at Laura, then back to Shelly. The blue-eyed blond with her eased her way into the alcove, effectively closing off any escape Shelly might have. Shelly saw her nod briefly to Laura.
“Now, you were saying?” The sportswriter...Zimmerman, she recalled...asked her a question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do. I am fairly certain I overheard you telling this woman that you were involved in implicating a competitor at these Games in something she was, in fact, innocent of. That, and I’m paraphrasing here,” she said with a tight smile, “you were going to continue these rumors and try to get her stripped of a medal. How am I doing so far?” Zimmerman pulled out her recorder and powered it on.
Laura nodded in agreement, a small smile playing across her lips. “I think you’ve got it pretty much right.”
Shelly looked from Zimmerman to the tall blond with her, then turned to face Laura. She spun on Zimmerman and pointed toward the room in which Cass was recovering. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know what she did.”
“No, but I know what she didn’t do and what you did.” Alanna’s soft lilt was laced with anger. “Isn’t it interesting now, that when we inspected our rigging we did find someone had loosened the gates? And, wouldn’t you know, when we spoke with that lovely lass from the boathouse she had a great deal to say about who had been visiting late last night.”
Alanna ranged herself squarely alongside Laura, and Shelly glared, white-faced and angry, at the women ringing her.
Zimmerman spoke up again. “I also know that I heard you telling this woman how much you liked spreading your crap just to fuck with her. I’m pretty sure that’d make an interesting story for the magazine, don’t you agree?”
“Bite me.” Shelly shouldered her way between Zimmerman and the still unidentified blond and headed toward the exit, running headlong into her cameraman as he entered. Both ended up on the ground, and Shelly screeched at him, slapping at the hand that he offered to help her get up.
Laura turned to Zimmerman and held out her hand.
<
br /> “Ms. Zimmerman, thanks a lot.”
“No problem and call me Jane.” She waved to the woman standing silently nearby, still holding a bright bouquet of flowers. “I believe you’ve met my partner, Anne,” she added drily.
Laura shook hands with Anne, smiling. “You probably don’t remember me, Anne, but we’ve met. At the airport? The day Cass arrived?”
“I don’t recall actually meeting you,” said Anne, eyeing her carefully.
Laura realized that Anne was remembering the cold shoulder with which she’d treated Cass upon her arrival. She felt a warm flush of embarrassment at her behavior and offered an apology. “I’m sorry, that was a really bad day.”
“I also don’t remember giving you my cell number?” This time Anne’s expression was warmer and Laura could see a hint of a smile playing around her lips.
“Yeah. I, um, well, borrowed Cass’s cell phone to call you.” She steered the three women back into the alcove. “Cass told me about you, and the magazine your partner works for,” she added with a smile toward Jane and then shrugged. “I figured Jane might be able to help.”
Jane laughed with the rest. “I’m glad I could. We came as soon as you called, we were really upset about the accident.”
“Cass is fine. We’re waiting to hear about Sarah.” They fell silent for a moment before Laura looked up again. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Alanna Doyle, of Ireland.” Despite the seriousness of the situation she couldn’t resist adding, with a smile and nod, “and Olympic silver medalist.”
Alanna’s bright grin spread across her freckled face as she shook hands all around. “And never a finer medal won, I’d wager.”
“Great to meet you. Both of you. Congratulations.” Anne smiled at Laura then glanced back down the hallway and shook her head. “We were going to come by to check on Cass later, so I’m really glad you called when you did.”
“I’m incredibly glad you did. I didn’t know how else I was going to stop her. Your timing was perfect. Did you really overhear everything?”
“Not all of it, just enough to make her think we heard more.”
“Nice.”
Jane turned to her partner. “Honey, why don’t you go on in and visit Cass? I think I’d like to sit out here and chat with Laura and Alanna a bit.”
Laura watched as Anne strode down the hall and disappeared into Cass’s room. Jane pulled Laura into a nearby seat and settled herself across from Laura while Alanna sat on a nearby bench.
Pulling the small digital recorder from her back pocket again, Jane checked it, then set it on the table before them. She waved toward the device and said, “I have a feeling that Shelly’s not finished, so why don’t you tell me a story?”
Chapter Forty
Cass rocked back and forth, trying to ease her nerves as she waited for the ceremony to begin. To her left, behind the lowest of three podiums, were the two Dutch rowers, their orange and white track suits blinding in the afternoon sunlight. To the right, behind the second-highest podium were Alanna and Kay, bright in their green and white uniforms. Before Cass and Pam was the tallest of the three podiums, the one onto which they would step in just a few minutes. Sucking in a breath at the flutter of nerves that threatened to overwhelm her, she instead turned and scanned the crowd in the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rest of her team.
“They’re over there.” Pam nudged her shoulder and pointed further to the left with her good hand.
“Thanks.” Cass flicked her gaze over the group of excited women, grinning as Sheila gave her a thumbs-up. Spotting one of the assistants standing behind a tripod, she turned to Pam and smiled. “Gonna take the tape over to Sarah right after?”
“Yeah.” Pam smiled sadly. “She’s watching the coverage on TV, but I promised we’d make a tape just for her.”
“I so wish she could be here.” Cass nervously tugged her team polo straighter. It was unusual to get a medal and not be in her racing unitard. She felt almost awkward in the team shorts and polo.
“Me too.” Pam’s expression brightened as she continued. “But, the docs say she’s doing much better. I wish we could have put this off one more day, then she might have been able to be here.”
“At least we get to get our medals the same day the eight get theirs.” Cass leaned forward and looked along the row at the twenty-seven women clustered around the end of the docks awaiting their turn, grinning as Amy flashed her a bright thumbs-up from where she stood with the rest of her crew. Behind her stood Laura, and Cass was warmed by the smile she sent her way. The flutter that ran through her echoed the butterflies that had taken root in her stomach, and Cass laughed at herself. She wasn’t entirely certain which unsettled her more, the pending medals ceremony or her reaction to the smallest smile from her elusive friend.
A call from the announcer’s booth sent a wave of murmuring through the crowd, and Cass assumed they were closer to starting. The officials had postponed the doubles’ medal ceremony following the crash and Sarah’s injury, but only after an outcry from the International Rowing Federation and several teams in the regatta. The officials had at first demanded that the U.S. put forward representatives to receive the medal, but Coach Adler had flatly refused. Since there were more races to be run, she’d argued, there was no need to rush things and a few days would give at least one team member a chance to be present.
Cass had pushed for an even longer delay so that Sarah could be up there with her, but in the end the U.S. team had been forced to go with Cass and Pam, as Sarah’s representative. In the end it was Sarah who’d insisted that they go ahead with the ceremony, and she who had suggested that Pam be her stand-in. So the doubles ceremony had been scheduled for the same day as the eights ceremony.
Just when she thought her nerves couldn’t take it anymore, the band played a loud salute, and a man in a deep red jacket strode to the microphone. He held up his hands for quiet and the crowd quickly stilled. The man spoke to the crowd, using the traditional format of speaking first in French, then in English and then in Chinese, the language of the host country.
“Today’s ceremony is a special one,” he began, his expression solemn. “We honor not only our champions but the dedication and heart that is evidenced in the pursuit of excellence. The athletes who stand before you represent the very best that we can be. Please allow me to introduce, representing the International Rowing Federation, Francois deMarche.” The crowd cheered as a distinguished man stepped forward, his dapper suit at odds with the women standing on the podium in their team uniforms.
DeMarche stepped forward and shook the hand of the master of ceremonies. Behind him walked a young woman in a long, white silk dress trimmed in green, carrying a silver platter bearing the Olympic Medals. The wide red silk ribbons fluttered in the breeze as they moved forward onto the medals platform. Another young woman, dressed identically to the first, followed with a tray of flowers and laureates. DeMarche turned and faced the three teams of women and waited for the announcer to begin the ceremony.
“Winner of the Bronze medal, representing the Netherlands, Magda Sondag and Talina Bröeder.” The crowd erupted in cheers as the two Dutch rowers stepped onto the podium. DeMarche reached up to lay the ribbon holding the bronze medal over each rower’s neck, then he presented them with small bouquets of flowers and shook each woman’s hand. They each raised their bundles of flowers and waved to the crowd as they were cheered by their countrymen.
DeMarche passed before the empty center podium and stopped before the one to Cass and Pam’s right. Alanna flashed Cass a quick smile as she took Kay’s hand and raised it high. The announcer’s words were nearly lost as the crowd cheered again. “Winner of the Silver medal, representing the Republic of Ireland, Alanna Doyle and Kay Sinclair.” As with the Dutch rowers, deMarche laid the medals around the women’s necks and then presented them with their flowers.
Cass and Pam cheered with the rest as the team who’d come so close to beating them raised their bouquets high and sal
uted the crowd. The noise was almost deafening now, the crowd chanting “USA” as deMarche turned and stepped over to his right, centered exactly in front of the highest platform. His sharp, dark eyes flashed over them both and he shot Cass a ghost of a wink before cocking his head as the announcer spoke once again. “Winner of the Gold medal, representing the United States of America, Cassandra Flynn and Sarah Sullivan! Sarah was, as we all know, injured in an accident following the final race, so her medal will be accepted by her teammate, Pamela Collins.”
Pam gripped Cass’s hand and gave a sharp tug, pulling her up onto the podium, then she raised their hands high in the air. Cass was overwhelmed with emotion and couldn’t fight the swell of tears. She was glad Pam had taken the lead and pulled her up, for a second she was afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her. As the announcer repeated his words in French and Chinese, she fought to get hold of her emotions. It all seemed so surreal.
So...magical.
She was standing on a podium at the Olympic games. And not just any podium, but the highest podium. Any second the representative of her sport’s international federation was going to place around her neck a gold medal. Pam squeezed her hand again and Cass looked over at her.
“Okay?” Pam whispered as deMarche stepped forward.
Cass just nodded as Pam freed her fingers. She bent low, ducking her head as his arms came up and the weight of the medal settled around her neck.
Over the noise of the crowd and the cheering of her teammates, she heard him say in his heavily-accented English, “Congratulations, young lady.”
Reaching up, she brushed her fingers over the shining, surprisingly heavy medal and then met deMarche’s gaze. “Thank you,” she choked out. She watched as Pam leaned down to accept the medal from him and saw that she was just as overwhelmed. DeMarche reached behind him and Cass bent low again, this time to receive a crown of laurel leaves, the traditional Greek symbol of the champion. He then handed her a large bouquet of flowers, and then turned and repeated the same pattern with Pam. After exchanging kisses on each cheek and shaking hands with them both, he turned and led the two silk-clad women off to one side.
