Mary closed the tablet cover. “Do you think Jess did it?”
It was impossible for Jess to have killed someone, but I still gave Mary’s question serious thought based on the information we had. “No, and here’s why. Honey being killed at the center is going to cause both Jess and Robbie big problems professionally. If Honey was killed somewhere else, then I guess it could be Jess but…” I shrugged my shoulders. “So that isn’t really definitive. Huh, what do we do now? I barely slept last night, and I’m about to collapse if we sit much longer.”
I gathered up the dishes and took them into the kitchen while Mary yelled after me. “I was going to read Honey’s memoir and gather all the clues for us, but I guess we could just wing it. Who do we talk to first, Batman?”
I crossed the room and turned the notebook to read it. “Hmm, Tiger’s at the top.”
Mary gathered up her stuff and stood up. “No, it couldn’t be Tiger. He’s too handsome.” She let out a sigh and stared off into the distance briefly. “Let’s see if someone is at the archery ranges.”
I rolled my eyes while grabbing a pen Mary dropped. “Oh yeah, with investigation skills like that, we’ll solve the mystery in no time.”
***
We walked past a large bank of windows that looked out over the long archery range. Tiger was set up on a seventy-meter target, which was the standard for outdoor recurve competition. He was alone.
“Seems that fate has decided for us. We can talk to Tiger first. What should we ask?”
Tiger picked up his bow and prepared to shoot another end at the long target. An end in archery is the act of shooting arrows, going to the target to retrieve them, then returning to the shooting line. Tiger had just started a new end.
Mary confidently headed toward the door. “I got this.”
By the time we entered, Tiger was at full draw.
Mary burst through the door. “Can we talk to you, Tiger, we’re invest—”
I grabbed her arm hard.
Hissing through my teeth, my whisper cut her off. “What are you doing? Did you go to the Mr. Bean School of Investigation? You don’t tell him that we are looking for the killer.”
Tiger continued to shoot, and Mary’s head bobbled between the two of us. “I figured I would just tell him we are looking into the murder and ask where he was.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “No, absolutely not. Don’t tell anyone what we are doing.”
Tiger finished his end of six arrows and put his bow down on the stand. Sauntering over to us, he plopped down on a chair and kicked his legs up on the table.
“Hey ladies, what are you inviting me to?”
In unison, Mary and I said, “What?”
A confused look crossed his face before replying. “You guys came in and said, ‘We’re inviting’ then stopped. Did I not hear you right? I was pretty focused.”
I jumped on the opportunity. “Oh, Mary tripped. She’s very clumsy.”
Mary glared at me.
“We want to invite you to…” To what? Honey just died, we can’t have a party. “Invite you to a celebration of Honey’s life. Tonight.” I smiled broadly at my own brilliance.
“Aww, that’s sweet. She was a good kid.” Tiger looked down at his hands in his lap and frowned.
I awkwardly patted his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Tiger, how are you holding up?”
“I feel awful for her. She rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, but she wasn’t a bad person, just ambitious.” He sighed deeply and covered his face with his hands for a few seconds before dropping them on his lap again. “I want to clear the air about us dating. That wasn’t totally true, but she didn’t want me to say so. She had some agent tell her that if she wrote a book, they could get her a show, but they needed more than just her. They said she needed an interesting husband or boyfriend and wacky friends, that kinda thing. So she asked me if I could be her boyfriend for the show. I said sure, why not? She was cute enough, and we had a thing once or twice in the past. Plus, I had nothing too serious going on with anyone else. She said it was important that everyone thought we were a real couple, but I told her that you can’t cage the Tiger.”
He gave us a sad wink, and Mary chuckled softly. His words were flirty, but his tone was sad.
“The agent was probably a scam artist, and Honey was never going to write a book. Who reads books these days? But just in case, I did my best to act like the loyal boyfriend.”
I gave a snort. “Loyal boyfriend, eh? Don’t expect to win an Oscar anytime soon.”
“What can I say, my natural charisma is, like, irresistible. Need any help with the thing tonight?”
Mary and I looked at each other and shrugged.
“Have you told everyone? Arranged for liquor so we can toast?” We shook our heads no to Tiger’s questions. “Have you done anything? You two are doing an awful job of planning this.”
“Planning what?” a voice said from behind us. Turning around, I saw Owley entering the range carrying her bow and her quiver hooked over her shoulder.
“Mary and Di are planning a celebration of Honey’s life for tonight, like after dinner?”
“Ya,” I replied, “after dinner is perfect.” I looked at Owley, expecting that she would reply, but she stared at me. I looked at Tiger then Mary then back at Owley. The pressure of the silence weighed heavily on me, and I reached out for any topic.
“I like your shoes,” I blurted. Owley had black athletic shoes on with teal accents. She looked down at the shoes then back at me. Eternity stretched out before she replied.
“Huh?” Her high, thin voice wavered a bit. She shifted her weight between her feet.
“Your shoes are cute. I would totally buy a pair like that.” I gave her a big smile, hoping that the compliment would prompt a response.
“Um, Di, I think you bought the same pair last week.” Mary had gone shopping with me and would know.
I laughed, loud and awkward, in the large empty room (and feeling like a total idiot). “No wonder I like them. We could be shoe twins.”
Tiger and Mary gave a tiny laugh, but Owley continued to stare. Finally she replied, “I need to practice.” She walked over to the shooting line, put her bow down next to Tiger’s, and started getting her equipment on.
“Hey, great, good luck. Mary and I have things to do.” I gave Tiger a quick wave and dragged Mary from the range.
***
Once in the hallway, I reared around to face Mary. I kept my voice down. “We need to figure out a better way to talk to people. I don’t want anyone knowing that we are investigating.”
“Batman does, you know, in the movie.” Mary lowered her voice and said, “I am Batman.”
I chuckled but blew out an exasperated sigh while rubbing my forehead. “We’re not Batman and Robin. At best, we’re Laurel and Hardy.”
“Oh, sorry I couldn’t match the brilliance of your investigation, Miss-I-Like-Your-Shoes.”
At the far end of the hallway, a police officer was watching us. I gave him a big smile and waved then started walking toward the entrance. “Fair enough, neither of us is good at winging it. As much as it pains me, I think you’re right. Let’s go back to the room. You can read the memoir, and I can take a short nap before my head explodes.”
***
A dancy little electronic tune woke me up. I grabbed my phone and cleared my throat. “Hello,” I croaked.
“It’s me. Jess. Are you in your room? I need to introduce you to someone. Don’t move.” It all came out in a tumble of words.
“Sure, come on over.” I looked at the phone, but Jess had already ended the call. I rubbed my eyes and took in the surroundings. I was lying on the couch in the middle room of our unit. Mary was on the floor, working at the coffee table with her computer, tablet, notebook and a variety of pens spread out in front of her. I had closed my eyes for just a second when a knock on the door broke the silence again.
“Come in,” I called out as I swung my feet onto the floor
. Jess entered, buzzing with excitement. Following behind her was a beautiful, tall lady dressed in an impeccable outfit. Her stance reminded me of many a CEO I had met in California, confident and observant. Her eyes landed on Mary, and she greeted her. “Hello, Mary, how is your mother?”
“Very good, thank you for asking.”
Jess gestured at me. “This is Di. Di, this is the owner of Westmound Industries, Mrs.—”
But the lady stepped around her and extended her hand while saying, “Call me Elizabeth, please. We are all part of the Westmound family.”
I stood up, wishing I had bothered to look in the mirror before they arrived, and shook Elizabeth’s hand. She had a strong grip.
“I wish I could have met you under better circumstances. I came over as soon as I was notified. Liam says that you found Honey. How are you doing?”
I had heard that Westmound headquarters was in Utah; she must have driven over first thing this morning.
“I was pretty upset, but Liam was very kind.”
“I’ll be making arrangements for a grief counselor to come to the center and talk to everyone as soon as possible.”
I waved a hand in the air. “Oh no, I’m fine.” I smiled brightly while Elizabeth studied my face.
“Do you mind if I sit for a second?” As I nodded, she sat in a chair and gestured to the couch for me to sit before continuing. “Do you know that I personally made the final decision on every person hired for the center? This center is really my pride and joy. I love the entire outdoor industry, but I have a special place in my heart for archery. You were the final hire we made, and I did some internet research on you. We’re very lucky to have you here.”
I fidgeted in my seat. I knew there was quite a bit about me available online, from articles about high-dollar contracts our company earned to a few about women in technology and at least one article about me leaving the company when divorce proceedings started. I silently begged that she not ask about the divorce. “Thank you, I’m happy to be here.”
“About ten years ago, my husband and father passed away in the same year. I was left to run both growing companies. I insisted that I was fine and had everything under control. Eventually my son quit college to come home and help me. He made me go and talk to someone, and I think that was the only thing that saved me. There is no shame in letting someone in.” She smiled at me with genuine warmth.
I smiled back. “Thank you.”
“If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to tell Jess or Liam. Or you can call me directly.”
As she headed to the door she asked Jess to show her where Liam’s room was. They said goodbye to us and left.
Mary gushed from her spot on the floor.
“She’s so awesome. I did a couple articles on her and Westmound companies in general last year. She’s one of the few female owners in the industry. She knows everyone by first name, even if you met her once five years ago, and she pays attention to every company she owns and employee she has. She must not sleep. Plus, she has been so kind to me. That’s part of the reason I applied to work here. I want to be her when I grow up,” Mary said in an awestruck tone.
“I think I do, too. I can’t believe she took the time to come by the room. She probably has a lot of other stuff on her mind right now.” I gazed at the door. “How long was I asleep?” I was still exhausted, but I no longer felt like death warmed over.
“A couple of hours, but I have good news. I finished reading the memoir. Even being super careful to read every word, it was still really short. I highlighted some stuff to read to you. Honey didn’t exactly tell the truth in a lot of the stories.”
“Like what?” I dragged the notebook over the table and starting looking at her notes.
“It’s hard to explain. She didn’t flat-out lie about any facts, like winning a medal she didn’t or making a team she didn’t, but every story is just a bit off. Let me back up. You didn’t know much about Honey, right? Can I tell you from the beginning?”
I smiled and grabbed a pen to doodle with while Mary talked. Mary loved to tell a story. I had avoided personal stories from either of us, and she respected that, but she gave me long-winded explanations about every show we watched.
“Honey was spoiled. I don’t know how rich her parents were, but they had some connections and enough money that she could devote herself to full-time training. In her book, she talks about being a triumphant winner and a gracious loser, but that wasn’t the case. She had a reputation for being a poor sport: not shaking hands after a match, being rude if she lost, just unpleasant, but nothing really against the rules.”
Mary got up off the floor and sat in a chair to continue.
“Nationwide, we only have about a hundred women that are seriously training in competitive recurve archery. The talent pool is good but not very deep. Honey had been sitting in about eighth position of the national rankings for years: very consistent but not good enough.”
I was boggled by her exact statement. “How do you know that?”
“Because of the articles I wrote. Normally I’m a freelancer, but this last summer I worked part time with NOUSAA, the National Organization of USA Archery, writing little articles about the teams for the Summer Games. Everyone else on the team was easy. Owley lives and dies archery. I don’t think I have even heard of her dating until today, but I will get to that later.”
I drew a heart next to Owley’s name in the notebook.
“Owley trains nonstop, and this was already her second Summer Games. She’s our top-ranked female and places well internationally, though she tends to be a bit unpredictable. One world event she will medal, then the next she won’t even make top thirty. She may be pretty weird in person, but she sounds great on paper.”
“What about Minx?” I had taken an instant dislike to her abrasive personality.
“Minx is awesome, a real great story. She comes from this huge family, has like a million sisters. They don’t have a lot of money. She lives at home and helps with the family business during the day then trains in the evening. They have bake sales on the weekend to raise enough money to send her to tournaments. She’s a rising star in the organization. She has been on a steady climb for the past few years, and she will probably eventually be better than Owley. She’s tough and a hard worker. If she gets into the OSA program here to train full time, she might be unstoppable. If I had been in charge of publicity, I would have had Minx everywhere, but I found something that explained why she wasn’t. I’ll pull it up for you.”
“Argh, she gets under my skin. And Honey?” I attempted to draw a skull and crossbones next to Minx’s name.
“Honey’s story was really hard to write. She only barely made the team at all. The team was picked over three events, and her ranking coming in was sixth. There were only three spots on the team, but it wasn’t the best year for our athletes. There isn’t much money in recurve archery, especially for females, so a couple of long-time athletes retired when they got great job offers or got married. Two others got pregnant, and another had to leave the first event when her mom was rushed to the hospital.”
“How sad. Did her mom die?”
“No, she lived, but if you miss one event you can’t advance.” She thumbed through the tablet.
“That sucks, but at least she didn’t lose her mom as well.” It would be too awful.
“I totally agree; there’ll be other Summer Games. I got hired right before the final trial so I went to watch. Minx and Owley had the top two places pretty well locked up, but Honey barely snuck in third by a fraction of a point. She hasn’t won a single national medal in her ten years of shooting, never competed internationally or anything. No hobbies. Nothing. It was a super boring article. That’s why I did so much research on her; I was hoping that something would come up.”
“You make it sound like she didn’t deserve to make the team. Do you think she cheated or something?”
I felt as though I was missing something to the story.
“No, she didn’t cheat, at least as far as I know. She just made it sound like she earned all these things when really it was more about other people’s misfortunes or her using money or influence to pull strings.”
“Didn’t she place the highest at the Summer Games?”
“That was super surprising. I read something in her memoir that was weird about that—” Mary was cut off abruptly by a knock at the door.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mary got up to answer the door. As she opened it, a black nose pushed inside, and Moo ran into the room. He hopped up on the couch next to me as Minx entered the room, holding two arrows and a baggie.
“Liam has a meeting at the center and asked if I could drop the dog off here. I need to fletch two arrows, and the equipment room at the center is still off limits. Do y’all have some acetone and alcohol?”
Mary came back and swiped across her tablet while answering Minx, “Sure, give me just a second and I can grab it for you. Here, Di, this is that article I was telling you about.” She handed me the tablet before she left the room.
She had pulled up a section from Honey’s memoir. I scanned the page, focusing on a few highlighted sentences. The page started with her returning home after the trials. She mentioned getting headshots, hiring a publicist, getting her hair cut, speaking to sponsors about renegotiating her contracts, and talking to new sponsors but very little about practicing. Mary had highlighted a line. “I wanted to make the most of my one opportunity.”
Minx and Mary returned to the room, and I shut the tablet cover and notebook. Minx settled on the floor with a small trash can next to her.
“Hey, Princess, what article you reading?” Minx leaned back on her hands and smirked at me. She had emphasized the word princess and appeared to be waiting for my reply.
“Princess?” My suspicions were increased when her smirk burst into a full-blown smile. I had taken the bait.
“Yeah, Princess Di. I figured that you needed a pro name, and I’m pretty good at them, right Mary?” She nodded her head in Mary’s direction but watched me for my reaction.
Mary squealed with glee and clapped her hands once. “Princess Di. It’s perfect.”
Death on the Range: Target Practice Mysteries 1 Page 5
