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make you wish you didn’t know Melanie? How do you really feel about living with perfect Melanie?
    Oh, well. It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to be living with her for much longer.
    I’ve watched you practice all week. I’ve seen you work on your butterfly stroke. That’s really a hard stroke, isn’t it? You have to be as strong as Melanie to perform the butterfly well.
    You’ve got to keep your head down, Mary. You’ve got to steady your breathing. That’s what the coach has been telling you.
    I could hear every word. You haven’t seen me. But I’ve been watching you so closely.
    I’m up here in the high balcony above the pool. Where the newspaper reporters sit. There’s no one else up here during practices. I can watch you and listen. And make my plans.
    What a shame that you and your friends talked to the police, Mary. You got Hope in a lot of trouble. And now Hope is angry at me.
    Hope blames me. She doesn’t want me hanging around. She doesn’t want to see poor Darryl anymore.
    Hope and I were so close, Mary. So close.
    And now she doesn’t want to see me. Because she’s in trouble. Thanks to you.
    So I have to fix things. I have to win Hope back.
    And I know just how to do it. I have to show Hope how much I care about her.
    She would never pay you and your roommates back for what you did to her. But I will do it for her. And then Hope will know how much I care. She will know how much she needs me.
    I’m watching you now, Mary. I’m sitting up here in the dark press room. Staring down at you through the long glass window.
    Where is Melanie this afternoon? Why isn’t she at practice today?
    I can’t believe she’s going to miss your last swim . . .
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    The coach squatted on the edge of the pool, her stopwatch raised in front of her face. She was timing the girls’ laps, one by one.
    Her whistle rang through the building, echoing off the tiled walls. The first swimmer dove into the pool with barely a splash.
    Mary was fourth in line. I figured I had plenty of time.
    I slid off my seat in the press box, backed away from the window, and made my way to the narrow stairway in back. I hurried down the curving stairs,leaning my weight on the railing to keep my steps as silent as possible.
    A doorway opened into the pool area. I hesitated. Heard the coach’s whistle followed by another splash. Girls shouted encouragement to the new swimmer.
    I followed the stairs down. I knew exactly where they led. I’d checked it all out carefully. I’d been running the plan through my head endlessly.
    The doorway at the bottom of the steps led into the training room. I stopped at the closed door. I suddenly had a bad feeling.
    Had someone locked the door?
    That would ruin everything.
    I turned the knob. The door opened easily. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, I slipped inside.
    I glanced up and down the rows of lockers. I crept along the wall to the long shower room and peered in. No one around.
    I checked out the coach’s little office across from the locker room. Sometimes people wait in there to see the coach after practice.
    But today it was empty.
    â€œPerfect,” I murmured to myself.
    The word made me think of Melanie. Where was she this afternoon? Why had she skipped practice?
    Sometimes Melanie joined Mary in the Jacuzzi after practice. If she had shown up today, I could have killed two birds . . .
    The Jacuzzi bubbled and hissed on the other side of the shower room. Steam wisped up from the bubbling water.
    They keep that baby really hot.
    I guessed that was good for the swimmers’ muscles after coming from the cold pool.
    It won’t be good for your muscles today, Mary, I thought.
    I moved quickly to the supply cabinet. One more important hurdle to cross. One more lap before I could head for the finish of the race.
    Had someone locked the cabinet?
    No. I pulled