Dead in the Water Read Online Free PDF Page B

the hall with a huge copy machine, reams of different colored paper, boxes of old trophies, ribbons, and medals that had never been picked up. Floor to ceiling industrial styled bookcases were crammed full. There was even some extra equipment for pool meets and open water swims and a box full of tools—wrenches to tighten and loosen lane lines, buckets filled with dried cement that could be used as anchors for buoys, different lengths of synthetic rope, a series of red, yellow, green starting flags, a bullhorn and some large banners.
    Before Bill left, he had handed me a swim magazine opened to a page that listed open water swimming statistics in a snappy graphic format under the heading, Did You Know?
    According to an international open water expert, in 2011, approximately 60,000 people competed in open water swims in the United States and another 2.3 million people competed in triathlons, which have a swimming leg. There were more than 4,000 open water swims around the world, from Japan to Mexico, Australia to Hungary, and Cuba to Singapore.
    Next to those numbers, Bill had scribbled, “Northern California Masters offers more open water swims than any other area in the United States. People look to us for leadership on how to do things.”
    I was impressed. At times, I thought the open water swimming consisted of only Lena and me spending weekends on the road. But I was wrong. This was a growing sport with international connections.
    The computer on my desk was a relic, but I needed to check into the office’s email. I couldn’t answer much in the way of questions, but at least I could read them and get a sense of what went on.
    The subject line of many said Dick Waddell . Most wanted to know what happened. One email was clearly different. I couldn’t tell who it was from. The return address was “Do Not Reply” with a school system name in the Sacramento area. There was no message, just a subject line.
    Subject: Waddell death. ??????
    Did the sender know that Dick had died? Or was it a question wondering if he was dead. Maybe it was a query about how he died. If the office was getting these inquiries, certainly the Waddell family was. It must be painful for them to handle this right now. If I had gone through with my ‘too many pills’ scenario, Lena would have switched off her computer and phone immediately, headed for her bedroom and stayed there. I didn’t want the Waddell family to struggle with requests for information, no matter how well-meaning. Forget Lena’s warning to leave things alone, I felt compelled to help this family in any way I could.
    I hit Reply and the Do Not Reply message came up. Then it reverted back to the Inbox. I clicked on the message again to open it. When I hit Reply, the same thing happened. On the third try, my computer restarted.
    “Welcome to day one of the new job,” I sighed.
    Later, when Bill called into the office, I told him about the email. “Who knows? Maybe they hit the send button before they had time to write anything,” he said “We get strange emails all the time.”
    “But nobody knows that Dick Waddell has died. What if his death isn’t so cut and dried?”
    “The family probably called his swim coach and a few of his close friends. Look, your job is to mind the office and answer the phones,” said Bill. “Don’t get involved with this. I know you mean well, but when there’s a death, lawyers are often close behind.”
    “Well, now that you mention it, Waddell’s coach, Cody Stephenson did call and so did an attorney for the Waddell family.” I gave him her name and number. When I heard Bill muttering to himself, I quickly said goodbye and hung up.
    Dick Waddell intrigued me. I looked up his information on our database. It didn’t tell me more than the basics: date of birth, home address, phone number and how he placed in past swims.
    Then I did a web search. Waddell was an accomplished swimmer and there were articles and records for him that dated