Death on the Range: Target Practice Mysteries 1 Read online

  She threw her arm off her face to reveal a smirk. “I said that you were awesome, strong, blah blah blah and could do anything. I’d be here to help.”

  “Yes, that blah blah blah got me through some hard times. If I can pick up my crumbling life mid-divorce, then you can manage your ‘too much money and opportunities’ problem.”

  “Have you been talking to someone?”

  I knew she was asking about the divorce. “No, I decided to handle it differently. I’m going to ignore it and pretend it isn’t happening. That’s why I’m paying a lawyer; it’s her job to worry about things.”

  A tiny frown formed on Jess’s face as she softened her voice. “Oh, Di, I really think—”

  “I’m a WASP; it’s the way of my people to bottle things up.” Jess stared at me while I fought against the urge to fill the air with explanations. The moment stretched out painfully until I felt like it would snap back at me. I attempted to break the moment by changing topics. “What the heck am I supposed to do here?”

  Jess straightened in her seat with a startled exclamation. “I almost forgot. Next Monday you will join the department head meeting. Everyone is excited to meet you. They are off putting together projects to use you. That’s why I had to rush over and remind you of your allegiance to me.”

  She gave me a dramatic wink before continuing.

  “Here is your basic meeting schedule. The first is with the outside tech company we are using; they should be able to get you whatever it is you need. The rest of the meetings are with various center employees so they can let you know what their department needs. You are going to have a lot of down time, so feel free to spend the rest moving into employee housing, buying what you need, and if there is any time left over, you can start learning about the sports represented here. The bottom of the schedule has a half dozen links. That will keep you busy until we start coach training at the end of the week.”

  I looked at the sheet. Everything seemed pretty clear cut.

  Jess started to rise, but I had one more question. “What about Moo?”

  At the mention of his name, he looked up at me and yawned. His mouth was wide enough to eat a whole loaf of bread in one bite, and his tongue flopped out. I patted my thigh, and he crawled out of the chair and walked over to me. He stood next to my chair and abruptly shifted all of his weight to my side, causing the chair to slam into the desk. I braced my feet on the ground and gave his rump a good scratch. “Do I need to let him out or anything?”

  Jess looked at the now vacated chair with its drool spots and copious dog hair and lifted her upper lip in disgust. “Nah, just don’t lock him in here, and he’ll be fine. He has a doggy door to an enclosed run on the far side of the building. He’s our easiest employee.”

  She gave me one last hug and left me to get settled into my first new job in eight years.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The week flew by as I settled into a new pattern and life. Mary had been thrilled to escort me to the nearest mall to pick up athletic clothes that met the dress code of the center and Wyoming winter jackets and shoes. A quick trip to the pet store while in town had ended in a dog bed, snacks, a water bowl, and a few toys. Moo didn’t belong to me, but he seemed to think it was his duty to spread dog hair over every inch of my office. The chair he had claimed as his own was discolored from his drool and starting to creak when he crawled into it. I encouraged him to stay off it before it collapsed and instead use his new dog bed (in the shape of a heart, because it came with an adorable doggie toy and matching blanket for only three dollars more). More often than not he sprawled across the bed with most of his body off the bed or all four feet in the air as he squirmed across the surface. I still hadn’t met his owner but I had come to think of Moo as mine—a warm, calming creature to share my work-day with. He felt like an ally while I met the various department heads.

  I kept the center’s personnel webpage open throughout the meetings so I could start to learn the staff’s names. I had met almost everyone there except for the most interesting one, Liam Andersson. Unlike the rest of the pictures, which consisted of headshots with a professional blue background, Liam’s was an outside shot of him firing a gun. He leaned forward toward the target, a cloud of dust around his body while he squinted into the sun. His hair was clipped short on the side but longer on top, and he had a full beard. He looked like something out of a video game, or a Viking brought back to life.

  His job description said “Equipment,” which didn’t make much sense as a job description. I hadn’t spotted him in the halls or cafeteria, but I had mixed feelings about meeting him. The mystery of a hypothetical man was enticing since I was in no place to deal with a real man, at least not romantically.

  Mary ran into my office, wiped a layer of dog hair off the plastic seat, collapsed into the chair, then pulled it to my desk. “Oh my goodness, I have so much to tell you.”

  I didn’t bother to hide my smile as I swiveled to turn to her. Last night she drove to Denver to pick up the Summer Games athletes who were arriving for the coaching course that started in twenty minutes. I went to sleep before she returned, and when I left this morning Mary was still sleeping.

  “So much drama about the new coaches’ course. The four Summer Games archers that flew in are not happy about being here, and there is all this tension between them. The drive back was so weird.”

  Mary loved to gossip, and I didn’t complain. Whenever she wanted to ask about my life, a topic I did not want to discuss, I could distract her by asking about other people. “Tell me.” I knew she didn’t need much encouragement, and I was right, as she launched into her story.

  “I picked the four of them up at the airport, and the girls, Minx, Owley, and Honey, are all sitting at least fifteen feet apart.”

  “Their names are ridiculous; at least Allie is a normal name.”

  “Not Allie. Owley, like an owl? Anyways, we get the luggage into the van, and Tiger hops into the first bench seat, and Minx crawls in next to him. Owley says she needs to sit there because she gets car sick, but Honey suggests that if Owley gets car sick, she should sit up front with me, not next to Tiger. They all just stand there snipping at each other about where everyone was going to sit. A cop had to come over and yell at us to move. Minx yelled at Owley and Honey to stop acting like babies and crawled into the front seat next to me. Owley got in next to Tiger, and Honey went into the row behind them.”

  I sucked air in through my teeth, surprised. This could make for a more exciting coaches’ course. Drama can be fun to watch when you aren’t part of it. “Yikes, are they always like that?”

  “I have no idea.” Mary burst into a huge smile. “I’ve never spent much time around them in private, just at tournaments. I had no idea they fought like this when they were alone.”

  Mary lightly bounced in her seat. She reminded me of the saying, if you don’t have anything nice to say, then come sit by me. We had started to bond over our shared love of mocking reality stars on TV.

  “Were there just the”—I stopped to count in my head—“four of them? Didn’t we send six archers to the Summer Games?”

  “Yes, only four of the six archers came to coach’s training, and they were not happy about it. Minx complained it was stupid that after attending the Summer Games she had to come to a class to learn how to teach archery.” Mary broke into a falsetto voice. “I can represent my country at the biggest archery event in the world, but I have to take a class to teach archery. What a bunch of horse… um, crap.”

  “Horse crap? Such harsh language! What did everyone else say?” I couldn’t help teasing Mary about her obviously edited version of the story. Mary’s sweet nature, all gossiping aside, had become evident over the past week.

  Mary put her fists on her side and huffed at me. “You know what I meant. Owley just shrugged, but she doesn’t say much ever. Honey said she was happy to attend the first course on the new coaching curriculum—or was it that she would be glad to be one of the first coa
ches of the new system? I can’t remember what she said. It was all about Honey, Honey, Honey. I think she even used the phrase ‘Master Plan.’ Can you believe it?”

  I giggled. “Master plan? What is she, an evil villain?”

  Mary looked at me with big, round eyes and got up. “Yes, she is.”

  I turned to Moo, who was lying on his back with his dog bed on top of him. He was chewing on a corner while scratching at it with his front paws. “Hey Moo, do you wanna go with me?” I got no further than “wanna” before he leaped up and pranced, his front paws dancing back and forth. He reacts that way to every question that starts with “Do you wanna,” but still it made me feel like we were a team when he bounded into action.

  I had placed a whole set of human emotions on his actions, but after losing my entire social group last year, it was a joy to have a creature that wanted to be with me. Looking at Mary waiting at the door, I had to admit that I had another friend in her.

  I grabbed the driest corner I could find and held the dog bed out to my side to avoid getting even more dog hair on my pants, then the three of us headed into the hallway. There was only one more question left to answer.

  “What did Tiger say?” I spoke in a whisper so my voice wouldn’t carry.

  “He said he was happy to be anywhere when he was surrounded by such pretty ladies, then he winked at me in the rearview mirror. He’s so hot.” Mary let out a deep sigh.

  I turned to look at her, and Moo barreled into the back of my knees. I pitched forward, wind-milling my arms, and almost smacked Mary with the dog bed before catching my balance. “Good grief, have you got a crush on him? He sounds cheesy.”

  Mary’s head snapped around to look at me. “No, I don’t have a crush on him, but if I did, it would be totally justifiable. He’s passionate, sweet, and one of the top-ranked archers in the world. Very talented. You will understand once you meet him.” A big, goofy smile broke across her face. “Plus, he’s so cute.”

  Mary had a crush on Tiger. I smiled to myself. “Who else is taking the class?”

  I figured Mary had snuck a look at the participant list, and I was not disappointed.

  “Jess is teaching, but you know that. Then the three of us are taking the class—you, me, and Bruce, who runs the community archery program here. The Summer Athletes I picked up. The rest are various archery coaches from Wyoming and Colorado. The housing isn’t finished yet, so only the Summer Athletes are staying here. Minx, Honey, and Owley all had a fit about who was going to stay where since someone would get their own place and the other two would share a room. In the end, they each got their own suite just to shut them up. It was 1:00 a.m., and I thought Robbie was going to bust a vein. He left early this morning with most of the center staff for Oregon.”

  We entered the room laughing, and I peeled off toward the back to reserve two seats and secure a spot for Moo’s bed. Behind me, I heard a man approach Mary and ask about her mother. Mary must know everyone in the archery community.

  I found a table at the far back with two chairs and two matching piles of paperwork. I threw down the dog bed so Moo could start the elaborate process of scratching, sniffing, and circling required before he sat down. I dreaded the meeting, and his snuffling and snorting was comforting. I was excited by the course in the hypothetical sense, but the actuality of being stuck in a seat for hours was something I resented.

  Working at the center had been a dream so far because they encouraged any activity in line with the vision of an ‘athletic center.’ As long as I kept my phone on me, I was allowed to go to the weight room or ranges at any time. The center’s structure of metal and concrete blocked cell signal, but we had wireless throughout the building and a dedicated messaging system. The entire staff had keys to the building and weight room. We also had keys to ranges in our specialty. I had keys to the indoor archery ranges, and once I went through their safety training, I would get keys to the firearm ranges.

  Looking around the room, it was disappointing to see so few women though I was used to it after working in the tech field. Three gals around my age or younger hung near the front but with large spaces between them. They seemed to be orbiting around a handsome man. He sat in a chair balanced on its back legs while he laughed. A few of the older men came over to shake his hand and greet the girls in turn. I pegged them as the four Summer Games archers holding court.

  Off on the other side of the room was the rest of the group in a large circle, having an animated discussion. Among them was a single tall female, her arms crossed except when she gestured with a pointed finger at the man directly opposite her. I guessed they were the local coaches, as their body posture denoted them as peers.

  Jess caught my eye and nodded but didn’t move to come over to me. A small knot of anxiety was tightening in my chest. I had not even touched a bow in six years since I ‘loaned’ my equipment to the daughter of a couple from church. All I had left was my original finger tab. It protected your draw fingers from the string and was molded to my hand. I kept it in my desk drawer like a talisman of lost dreams. It was the first thing I packed when I left the company. Like a security blanket, I had kept it on my bedside table as I spent sleepless nights deciding what I was going to do with myself after I moved out of our home during the divorce.

  I pulled it out of my pocket and laid it in front of me. The leather was worn smooth from shooting all through college. The cords attaching it to my middle finger had been replaced by a custom shoe string with stars on it, the metal at the top ground down to perfectly fit my hand, and the spacer that slid between my first and middle finger was shaved down. Everything about it was customized for me. How had I gone from an athlete to a lump that hadn’t competed since college? I slid it back into my pocket to end its judgy stare.

  I was lost in my own thoughts. It took a minute for me to register that Jess had started talking. People moved around to find a seat, and Mary grabbed the chair next to me.

  “…Center for Competitive Shooting Sports is dedicated to not only introducing the public to shooting sports in a safe and professional environment, but we are also passionate about assisting the elite athlete in their training. With this in mind, I’m honored to present these to our archers who have represented our country at the international level.”

  Jess pulled out four keys on keychains.

  “These keys will open the center, weight room, and archery ranges at any time. Please consider the center your home away from home.”

  A smattering of applause started around the room as Jess beamed and handed out the keys. She handed the first key to the good-looking man, confirming that he was in fact Tiger.

  “This wouldn’t be the first time a pretty gal gave me a key.” He turned to the coaches behind him, who gave a dirty laugh.

  Rolling my eyes, I turned to Mary, who was giggling.

  Jess handed the next key to a gal next to Tiger. The woman had angled herself to be half facing Jess and half facing the classroom.

  “Gee, thanks, Jess, super useful for all those times I’m in the middle-of-nowhere Wyoming.”

  Her tone was light and joking, but it was a rude thing to say in reply to a gift. A few people laughed, but I saw Jess’s mouth briefly tighten before replying.

  “You raise a great point, Minx. I think it is the perfect time to mention the fact that we are in the process of creating the official OSA program. OSA stands for On-Site Athlete program, which should be accepting applications by the new year. This program will allow elite and up-and-coming athletes to train at this state-of-the-art facility, with food and housing provided in exchange for a very light work schedule. Not only will they have unprecedented training, but their work schedule will be flexible to account for competitions.”

  A murmur of whispers filled the room as Jess handed out the other two keys. I had known about the announcement but didn’t realize what an impact it would have. Jess reminded me of an infomercial salesman with her slow, deliberate delivery and over-the-top descriptio
n, but it seemed to be working. Tiger and Minx exchanged a glance before Tiger got Jess’s attention.

  “Jess, you’ll be sending me the application when it’s available, right?”

  “Absolutely. We hope all elite athletes will consider this opportunity, and coaches, please pass this on to students you think could benefit. We are looking for dedicated, passionate archers.”

  The blonde gal stood up to address the group with the mannerisms that seemed as though she was doing us a great favor.

  “I want everyone to know Tiger and I might be busy with obligations. As Summer Games athletes, we have a duty to our fans.”

  Tiger blew out a heavy sigh. “The TV show isn’t a given, Honey. Don’t make it sound like such a big deal.”

  She turned to glare at him, her fists balled. “Don’t say a thing, Tiger, we are not supposed to say anything until the contracts are signed.”

  He smirked at her, completely unaffected by her anger. She stomped her foot, and he started laughing.

  “Who in the world would put you two on TV?” Minx played with her keychain.

  The whole room went silent, leaning forward to listen.

  “Who wouldn’t want to see archery’s greatest power couple on TV?” Tiger leaned back in his chair.

  Mary grabbed my arm, her tiny fingers digging into my flesh as she quickly whispered in my ear, “I knew there was something going on between them.”

  From up front, the last remaining Summer Game athlete, who must be Owley, spoke up.

  “Couple?”

  She looked at Tiger then Honey before turning back to Tiger. Her face was completely smooth, her jaw hanging open the tiniest bit. Her voice was higher than I expected but as absent of emotion as her face. The resemblance to an empty-headed owl was staggering.

  Minx blew out a loud raspberry. “A couple of what? You two aren’t dating.” She hit the word dating extra hard, with implication I didn’t understand.

  Honey glared at her, biting off each word individually. “Don’t be jealous, Minx.”