Death in the Casino: Target Practice Mysteries 5

by Nikki Haverstock

  I stumbled over the last stair as I stared around. "Wow."

  A group of kids raced past. Someone yelled at them not to run.

  Mary grabbed me out of their way. "Come this way. Past the last shooting room should be the door that takes you outside to a pet place, but I'm not sure that's correct since we went up one flight. We can check in afterwards."

  I followed her as she turned right and followed the wide hallway down. People pressed in from all sides, and Moo and I had to weave through them. The farther we went, the more the crowd cleared out.

  "Wow. I had no idea there would be this many people."

  Mary dodged around a lady in a wheelchair who was rolling over to get a picture taken in front of a banner declaring the year and name of the tournament. "This is nothing. It will be even crazier tomorrow. There are over five thousand people shooting. I have our schedule all lined up so that we get here in plenty of time."

  "What time are we getting up? Four a.m.?" I threw out the ridiculous time with a laugh.

  "No, you can sleep in until five."

  I stopped laughing and sighed. That was far too early.

  We passed a door designated for tournament staff only, and Mary pushed on the door leading outside.

  I followed her out onto a large balcony and startled a lady leaning against the wall next to the door outside.

  She was short and curvy, with cherub cheeks and black hair backcombed to the heavens. "You startled me, and now you've caught me with my dirty little secret." She waved a hand around holding a thin black rod.

  Moo pulled me past her to a square of fake grass and a few plastic bushes. He sniffed and snuffled as Mary stopped to talk.

  "What is that?" Mary pointed to the black rod, and I turned in their direction to hear the answer.

  "E-cigarette. I quit smoking ten years ago. And nine years ago. And eight years ago." She laughed and took a drag off the end of the e-cig. "Every year at this tournament, I would relapse, but not this year. I figured that it wasn't even the nicotine that had me relapsing; it's the act of stopping everything I'm doing, going outside, and taking a break. So I got one of these. There isn't even any nicotine in here, just flavor, but the opportunity to cut out of the office for ten minutes is a miracle. Don't tell Bobby about the no-nicotine thing. He has no issue with my smoke breaks, but he might feel differently if he knew that they were really Bobby breaks."

  I found myself laughing along with her eruption of words. She was bubbly and cheerful. I raised a hand in greeting. "We won't tell a soul. I'm Di. This is Loggin and Mary."

  "I know Loggin and Mary. Hi. Nice to meet you, Di. I'm Becca Bishop. And what's your dog's name? So big."

  "Moo." He was finished with his business. I passed the leash over to Mary while I got out a baggy to dispose of the evidence. "He's very friendly.

  Mary dragged Moo over. "Sit. Shake."

  As Moo lifted his huge paw and offered it to Becca, she laughed with delight. "So nice to meet you. What a gentleman." She kneeled down to scratch his neck, and Moo closed his eyes in bliss. "If you had a credit card, I think I would ask you on a date, Moo. You're twice the gentleman of anyone else around here. Present company excluded, of course."

  Loggin leaned on the wall next to Becca. "Archers behaving badly?"

  "The worst. They love to act like they are the height of professionalism, but behind closed doors, they whine like babies. And they prefer to complain to me than to Bobby. No idea why. I'm as likely to tell them to shut their face holes as Bobby is."

  I snorted at the turn of phrase. "Who's whining?"

  "Oh, there's always something. A bunch of recurvers were complaining at having to shoot so early. People that want me to rearrange five hundred other people's target assignments so they can shoot on the same target as their friends. Pro compound men wanted refunds even though it is past the refund date. And the pro compound women are just as bad, constantly hounding me about why their payout isn't more. Every year is the same thing. Whine. Whine. Whine. I swear after this year I'm done. Done. But I also say that every year, then afterward I forget and swear that wasn't so bad. It's a sickness."

  "Nothing unusual about this year? Same old same old?" I tried to keep my tone casual and relaxed. People get suspicious when you are too eager for an answer.

  "The recurvers always shoot early, and we never rearrange target assignments unless there is a genuine need like accessibility issues for the para archers. Those are normal complaints, but I have pat answers for both. And, of course, the pro female compounders always complain about making less money, but since Bobby raised the amount the men make, the women are super pissed this year. I can't blame them, but I'm not getting into that again. Oh boy, you do not want to open that can of worms. I said something when I was hired a dozen years ago, and I'm still smarting from the butt chewing I got on that one. You'd think I proposed that we go into the homes of the male archers, steal their undies, and shoot their dogs. They about flipped the table when I suggested increasing the ladies' payout."

  "Who decides on the payout?"

  "Bobby's the president of the organization, so he has the most say. There's a board that contributes to the decision, though they mostly follow his lead. The board is almost all professional male archers so, of course, they're big fans of increasing the men's payouts. There are also a few judges and tournament directors, but everyone is all about keeping the pro men happy. It's a good ole boys' club. But not my job to change the world." She took a long drag off the e-cig and blew out a cloud of water vapor lightly scented with vanilla.

  Loggin shifted uncomfortably. He had benefitted greatly last year when he won this tournament. "What about the compound men dropping out of the tournament?"

  Becca's eyebrows knitted up. "That is kinda unusual. There's always a few people that drop out, but this year has been more than normal. Maybe the flu is going around or something. Anyways, it was great to meet you, Moo and Di. Nice seeing you, Loggin and Mary, but I better get back to work before Bobby catches me." She gave a wave and snuck back through the door, letting it slam behind her.

  I chuckled. "She's so fun." I took Moo's leash back and scratched his rump.

  Mary smoothed her hair down as the breeze blew strands all around her face. "She's always like that. Talk, talk, talk. But she's awesome. We might need to accidently bump into her a few more times."

  I nodded at Mary. "Definitely. She was a wealth of information. Now what?"

  Loggin grabbed the door and held it open for me. "How about we find the van driver so I can compete tomorrow with a clear head?"

  I stepped through the door and turned to hear Mary's answer.

  "Sure, Loggin, first we'll--watch out!"

  I flipped my head around to see that I was inches from running into a man's chest. "Excuse me." I lifted a hand to stop my momentum then looked up into Moose's eyes towering overhead.

  Moose was a mover and shaker within the industry, a man in the know. At least that is how he'd described himself when we met last month. I was still not convinced.

  He chuckled and looked down at me. "It's okay. I'm used to women throwing themselves at me. I'm glad I caught you; someone said they saw you heading down this way. I want to introduce you to two of my up-and-coming archers. This is Hornet and Bee." He gestured to me. "This is Di, the new pro-staff manager at Westmound-Andersson Industries."

  "I see there's an insect theme." I extended my hand to greet them. They were probably in their early twenties and only slightly taller than me. Not short but not tall. Liam had explained that the really tall archers had a disadvantage since taller usually means longer draw length. The equipment in the industry was most efficient for "average" height archers, whatever that meant.

  Neither man smiled as they greeted me but kept a demeanor that I imagined they thought made them seem important and cool. I needed to clear up Moose's misunderstanding. "Pleased to meet you, but unfortunately there's been some bad information going around. I'm not the pro-staff coordi
nator for anything. I'm just the computer person at the training center in Wyoming."

  Moose leaned back and gave me a dubious look. "So you didn't give a speech to a bunch of kids at the training center on how to get sponsorship?"

  "Well..." I faltered. I had done that. It was a plan concocted to investigate after a murder, which was not something I was eager to share. "Liam had me do it because..." I couldn't think of a valid excuse, but I had started the sentence and needed to finish it. "He thought it would be fun."

  Moose crossed his arms and clearly didn't buy my explanation.

  "Someone filmed it and put it up online. But they said I was the new pro-staff manager, and that's not true at all. The rumor started there, and now everyone believes it as fact."

  Moose nodded, and his face broke into a smile. "I get it." He gave me a wink. "I know how these things work, so I won't push it. But know that I know."

  I had no clue what he thought he knew. "I swear. I'm not--"

  He cut me off. "No, no. I understand. Keep an eye on these two this weekend, and we'll talk in the future." He gave me another wink and left with his two archers in tow.

  Mary rolled her eyes. "That guy."

  "You guys could have had my back on that one." I wasn't genuinely angry, but I gave Mary a mock-stern face.

  She waved a hand at me. "You didn't need us. Besides, he was going to believe what he wanted to believe. Come on, I'll show you where we shoot.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She gave me a tour of the shooting ranges, and we found our target assignments for the next day.

  As we headed into the trade show, I scanned the crowd for Liam. My stomach grumbled, and I pressed a hand to my middle. Breakfast had been a long time ago, and we had skipped lunch. The trade show was smaller than the OIT show we had visited last month, but most of the major companies were there. Each booth had a crowd several people deep.

  Loggin turned to me when I faltered and fell behind. "Today is the worst day. The show is set up all weekend, but everyone's eager to get to the booths first. If you want to explore, I'd recommend waiting a day. Can we swing by the Andersson booth? I want to make sure they don't need me."

  I nodded and pulled Moo in close. We weaved through the crowd, dodging the bows that many people were carrying. It was an obstacle course of bow limbs, stabilizers, and sights sticking out in every direction. People turned and moved with no awareness of how their equipment swung into my path. I ducked as a carbon side rod almost took off my head.

  The floor was concrete, and as we rounded a corner, I realized that it was actually the top floor of a large arena. We moved around a bar, and rows and rows of plastic, fold-down seats were visible. The far half of the seating was covered by advertising from various archery companies. The floor of the arena had green, fake plastic grass and targets along the far side.

  I wandered over to the railing behind the top row of seats.

  Mary fell in step next to me as Loggin walked over to the Andersson Archery booth. "Pretty cool, huh?" She gestured down to the shooting venue below.

  "Who shoots down there?" I imagined being down there with crowds of people in the stands, watching my every move and shot. The thought made my stomach flip over.

  "Who do you think? Who gets all the money and attention?"

  "The pro compound men?" I guessed.

  "You got it in one. It's pretty cool though. The whole crowd hangs on every shot."

  "Di, get over here."

  I turned around to see Loggin waving me over. I recognized a few men around him from the Westmound Summit. They were employees of Andersson Archery. Thankfully I had spent my Christmas break memorizing the employee lists from the various Westmound companies.

  I greeted everyone that I recognized, then Loggin rattled off introductions to a handful of people, men and women that I hadn't met but were wearing Andersson Archery jerseys. I smiled and shook hands but failed to retain any of the names. They looked at me eagerly, waiting for me to say something.

  I was befuddled by the attention and unclear on what was expected of me. I nervously twisted Moo's leash in my hand. "This is Moo. I'm wishing you all the best this weekend."

  Everyone smiled. I was relieved that I had guessed at the right thing to say.

  A few people greeted Moo, and a woman stepped forward to speak to me. Her first name was embroidered on her chest above a long list of sponsors. More likely it was her pro name, since Terrier was hardly a common name.

  "You as well. I hear that you are shooting in the recurve division." She smoothly edged between me and the group, focusing my attention on her.

  I was relieved to be able to focus on one person and could appreciate the deft move. "Yes, I am. I haven't been back shooting for too long. This tournament is something."

  "First time?" She shifted her weight, blocking a man who had scooted forward to join us.

  I hid a chuckle at the strategy. "Yes."

  "If you need anything, let me know. And we should grab a drink while you're here. I would love to pick your brain."

  "Oh, I..." I couldn't possibly imagine what she wanted to know or why she was so interested when the memory of Moose's conversation helped connect a few dots. I looked at Mary then Loggin for help.

  Loggin struggled to hide a smile but stepped over. "We'll see what we can work out. Di has a lot of responsibilities this weekend."

  Eyes swung over to him, and it was my turn to hide a smile. I didn't have much to do besides shoot for a few hours a day and solve a murder while assuring Loggin that no one was out to get him. Wait; there was one other thing that was a priority. I scanned the crowd, and my heart flipped when I saw Liam heading in our direction.

  Customers in the booth pushed through the group I was standing with, and I took the opportunity to follow them toward Liam. We locked eyes. Even when people stepped between us, the second they passed, he was still looking right at me.

  Moo tugged at the leash to get to Liam. I was just as eager, and we closed the distance. When I was finally in front of him, I was at a loss for words. "Hi."

  "Want to grab some food?"

  I leaned in closer and opened my mouth to enthusiastically endorse the idea when Mary's voice startled me from behind.

  "Great idea. Loggin, we're grabbing lunch."

  Loggin left the booth and bounded out. "Awesome. Where? Can we get burgers and shakes?"

  "Perfect timing," said Minx as she walked over from the arena with Orion. "We've been looking for you guys. I'm dying for a mint chocolate shake."

  Liam leaned down to whisper in my ear. "That was not exactly what I had planned." He wrapped an arm around my side and pulled me closer as the discussion around us worked out the details of the meal.

  I tipped my head up so my words would carry only to him. "I know, me neither. But we have all weekend to sneak away. It's nice to have friends that want to hang out."

  I looked around the group, the casual easiness, even as Orion's eyes slid over to Mary whenever she turned to a different person then darted away when she turned in his direction. Loggin maneuvered to be next to Minx as she waved Jess over. People passing by slowed and cast little glances out at our boisterous group.

  Liam's fingers gave me a little squeeze then dropped from my side. "Let's go, people."

  ***

  The entire group was scattered around Mary's and my room with their bags of food and shakes. We had ordered our food to go. It wasn't just a matter of requirement since I had Moo with us but also convenience and speed. The line for the restaurant, and every other one we passed, stretched beyond the velvety ropes and into the casino.

  I sucked on the straw of my shake and promised myself that tomorrow I would have a healthy breakfast. My food sat heavy in my belly, and I doubted I could move for the next hour.

  We sat in a rough circle on the floor. I was next to Liam, who was running interference with Moo. Moo had his eyes locked onto our food.

  I leaned back against the edge of the bed. "Jess, ho
w was your afternoon?"

  She nodded and swallowed before answering. "Good. I caught up with some friends then met Ivana and the rest of her team from Bordistan. They're coming up to the center in about a week. It's going to be interesting." Her eyes cut over to Liam then back to me.

  "Interesting how?"

  "There's something weird going on with their national team. I couldn't get a handle on it exactly. Just little snippy comments, the way people looked at each other or phrased things. Though maybe it was just a cultural thing or language barriers."

  Mary flipped over her bag and dumped a few errant fries out. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was drama. There's always issues with national teams because funding is involved. Even our national team's a mess."

  I pushed my food away before I made myself sick. "Really? How so?"

  "You know how they have their own training center in Southern California? The national organizations tend to pressure the tournament organizers to schedule their tournaments around when it is convenient for those athletes to compete as opposed to the rest of the nation. I mean, they already have all their expenses paid for. Isn't that enough?"

  Jess laughed. "Mary, you have the same thing."

  "I know, but I don't pressure anyone to change things to be convenient to me."

  I pondered something. "Why didn't you apply to go to the national training center before Westmound was completed?"

  "The national coach and I don't see eye to eye." She bit off the words before grabbing her empty food bag and crushing it in her fists with more force than necessary.

  I would need to ask her more about that in private, but for now I would change the topic. I pulled the pamphlet out of my pocket and tossed it over to Jess. "Have you seen this?"

  She unfolded the paper and looked it over. "I hadn't seen this specifically, but I know what it's about. This comes up every year. It ends up being a circular argument. Women want more money, people say to get more entries, women say that the money is so low now that many archers can't afford to travel even if they win, and if they increase the payout, more women will attend."