Death at the Trade Show: Target Practice Mysteries 3

by Nikki Haverstock

  He looked at Loggin and didn’t acknowledge or even look at Mary and me. “Loggin, come back in here. I’m going to introduce you to Moose; he’s a very important dude in the industry. Someone you really need to know.”

  Loggin hesitated then smiled broadly. “Have you met Mary and Di? They work at—”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’ve met. Hey. Loggin, let’s go.” It appeared his “Hey” was directed at us as he raised a hand in our general direction, though he didn’t bother to make eye contact.

  Loggin looked at us then back at Cold with a smile. “Uh, sure. I’ll be there in a second.”

  Cold disappeared back into the bar, and Loggin turned to us. “What was that about?”

  Mary’s lips were pursed, and she crossed her arms. “Such a jerk.”

  I chuckled. I neither liked nor trusted Cold. “He doesn’t like us, which is fair, ’cause we aren’t his biggest fans either.” Though it was an accurate statement, it didn’t fully sum up the feeling of unease I felt around him. “Be careful around him. He’s…” He set off my internal alarms. There was a harshness to him that scared me. But that was nothing I could prove.

  Inside the bar, laughter erupted. Cold stood inside, beaming, while men around him guffawed and slapped him on the back. Everyone else seemed to love the guy. I finished off my cider and looked back at Loggin. “Be careful, that’s all.”

  “Got it.” He reached out a hand for my empty glass and took Mary’s as well. “If you get a chance, stop by the Andersson booth; I’ll give you the official tour of the product line.”

  He went into the bar and dropped the glasses on a tray then joined Cold, another tall man, and a group of shorter guys. They probably weren’t that short, but they were all at least a head shorter than Loggin. Handshakes were passed around, and eager voices carried out of the bar. It was an all-boys club.

  If Liam were here, it wouldn’t matter. He never acted like there were more important people to rush off to. As I looked toward the lobby, the front door pushed open, and Jack came in carrying several bags.

  “Food’s here!” Moo leaped to his feet as I stood and raced over. My stomach growled as I approached Jack and thanked him.

  Mary caught up to me and grabbed a bag of food from Jack. “You’re the best. I’m starving.”

  ***

  Sitting on the couch of our suite, I could barely move. Empty containers of Indian food were scattered on the coffee table. I grabbed the last corner of naan, swiped it through the sauce, and savored it. “I can’t eat another bite.”

  Mary left the couch for the table and set up her computer and notebook. “I’m gonna take some notes on Cash’s show—networks, sponsors, et cetera. Somewhere in there’s the reason for his murder.”

  “Why are you so sure it’s related to the show?”

  Mary flipped through her notebook. “Because he was killed here. It’s unlikely that he had a beef with a neighbor and the neighbor traveled all the way to the OIT Show to kill him.”

  “True, but wasn’t his wife with him? The little blonde?”

  “Hannah.”

  “Yeah, Hannah. Maybe she killed him here specifically so there would be so many other suspects.”

  Mary pointed at her notebook. “Don’t worry. I have her at the top of the list. We need to find out everything we can about their marriage.”

  “And the actual murder. Do they know what floor he fell from? The railing is pretty high; was he lifted over? Could he have been pushed? Was he alive when he fell? Unconscious? Did he scream? Did the newspaper say anything?”

  Mary shook her head through my questions. “The newspaper just said that the police were investigating it as a homicide.” She turned back to her computer and wrote in her notebook.

  I debated another piece of the soft and chewy naan but decided that I wanted my pants to fit tomorrow. Rolling things over in my mind, I couldn’t imagine how Cash could have fallen over the railing. Could he have been standing on a chair when someone hit him in the head? But why would he stand on a chair? Maybe he jumped up onto the railing to look at the floor and slipped. But then why didn’t he scream? If someone was huge like Loggin, or even two smaller people working together, they could have lifted him up and over. That seemed like the most likely option so far.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was getting late, but I had two messages. One was from Jess, back at the center. “Still sick. Slept all day.” Poor Jess. She had been so excited to come with her husband, Robbie, for their anniversary.

  The second message was from Liam. “Hope you’re having a good evening in. Game’s almost over. We’ll be leaving an hour later tomorrow. If you want to go to bed and leave your breakfast order for room service out, we’ll place the order when we get back.”

  I grabbed the menu and jotted down my breakfast order. “What do you want for breakfast? Liam said he would order for us if we wrote it down.” I extended the room service menu to her.

  “What did you order?” She continued to write in her notebook.

  “The healthy carnivore: two scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, and a side bowl of fruit.”

  “Perfect. Order me one, too.”

  I lowered the menu I still had awkwardly extended to her. She was fully engrossed in her project. Next to me on the couch, Moo groaned and rolled on his back, his large jowls flipping upside down to expose large white teeth. He deeply inhaled and sneezed all across my arm. He flopped back onto his side, his paws dangling off the couch.

  I got up to waste some time while Mary worked and Moo slept. The bathroom had a spacious countertop, where I spread out my makeup then rinsed the dog slobber off my arms. With a stretch and large yawn, I had reached the limit of what I could do in a hotel room. “Hey, I think I’m going to get ready for bed.”

  “Wait.” Mary stood up. “I’m done, but I had a thought. You know who might have information? Becky.”

  “Becky?”

  “The front desk gal. Perky blonde? She was on duty when we checked in. I bet she is working right now. She might have some intel for us.” Mary got up.

  “I don’t know. I’m already tired and…” She was so excited, and it wouldn’t take too long. “And we could take Moo out one last time then go straight to bed?”

  “Great idea.”

  I clipped the leash on Moo and carefully shut the suite door. I had a pet peeve about people letting their hotel doors slam shut. Especially after last night when I had repeatedly been woken up right as I fell asleep.

  As we rode down in the elevator, I questioned Mary about the plan. “How are we going to investigate if we are stuck behind a table all week?”

  “We can talk to people that come to our table or maybe stop at a booth when we take Moo out for his walks. Or in the evenings. I’m hoping to figure out who else was there when we discovered Cash’s body. If I see them, I’m sure I would recognize them.” The door opened, and Mary continued as we walked to the front desk. “Our goal is to figure out what Becky knows, got it?”

  “Sure thing, Sherlock.”

  Becky was at the front desk as Mary predicted, but she was not as perky as described. She had circles under her eyes. Her hair was a bit greasy and haphazardly pulled back into a ponytail. Not in a messy ponytail that magazines explain how to do in twenty-five easy steps, but the kind of ponytail where the top layer of hair split and the hair beneath stuck out, half the pony tail twisted left, and her side bangs had a wicked case of cowlick.

  “This is the front desk, how can I—Moo!” The weariness dropped off her face the second she looked up to see us. “Can I give him a treat again? Can I come around and pet him?”

  “Sure, he would love that.” Moo was the best dog in the whole world. He brought so much joy to others.

  She came around the front desk. “I’m Becky, and I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your names. Just Moo’s.” She gave him an ear scratch and a treat.

  “I’m Di, and this is Mary. How are you doing tonight?”

  She blew a br
eath out and gave Moo the other treat in her hand. “A little tired but fine. Just fine. What can I do for you?” Moo finished his treat and nudged her hand for another. She kneeled down and held out her hands. “All gone, Moo.”

  He sniffed her all over. She giggled when he stuck his nose into her neck; then he leaned on her, knocking her over.

  “Easy, Moo.” I pulled back on his leash and offered her a hand. “Sorry about that. His version of a hug is to lean on you.”

  “That’s so sweet. Aren’t you a good dog.” Once she stood up, Moo leaned again, and she rubbed his back. “I love dogs. You bring him by any time. He’s a great distraction from—” She gasped and covered her mouth.

  “It’s okay. If you mean the murder, we already know all about it.” I tried to speak softly, with heavy notes of understanding.

  Becky kept her eyes on Moo’s head. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

  Mary gave Becky a pat on the back. “It’s okay. We won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

  Becky didn’t seem convinced. Maybe if I comforted her a bit more, she would open up. “Did you get in trouble? There’s no way it was your fault.”

  Becky’s head jerked up, and she looked at me. “I know, right? But my boss wasn’t happy about the police being here or me waking him up in the middle of the night to tell him.”

  “What else were you going to do? Put the body in the Dumpster out back? Of course, you had to call the police.” I smiled at her, hoping that I looked like a friendly face to commiserate with.

  “Right! And I did my best to get everyone out of there quickly and keep the police investigation as quiet as possible.” She walked back behind the front desk.

  Mary and I followed her, and I leaned on the counter. “You did a great job. Everyone seems to be having a great time in the bar, and no one’s mentioned it at all. Maybe it was just an unfortunate accident?”

  Becky shook her head, her ponytail whipping each ear in turn. “No way. The police are absolutely sure that he was lifted over the wall and dropped onto the floor below.”

  Mary leaned on the counter next to me. “Wow, how’d they know that?”

  Becky shrugged. “No idea. I can’t remember what they said exactly, but I remember that they totally ruled out that he jumped or tripped or any other kind of accident.”

  If she had paid better attention, we could have had a lot more facts. “But he didn’t scream, right?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t hear any screams or shouts, though I did hear when he… landed.” She cringed.

  I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder and turned to see that Liam and Orion were behind us. Liam removed his hand and chuckled. “What are you guys doing up?”

  “We were giving Moo one last walk before bed but stopped to say hi to Becky.” I turned back to Becky. “It was good chatting with you.” I gave her a little wave before following Orion, Mary, and Liam out of the lobby into the courtyard of the hotel center.

  Liam extended his hand for Moo’s leash. “Mom already went up to the suite. If you guys want to go up, Orion and I can take Moo outside.”

  I passed the leash over. “Thanks. Just knock when he is ready for bed. I left our breakfast order on the room service menu in the kitchenette.”

  I headed to the elevator then realized that Mary was trailing behind me. I stopped to let her catch up. “Whatcha thinking about?”

  She shook her head and looked at me. “Oh, I was thinking about Cash being unconscious when he was thrown over the side. That’s really risky. What if he had woken up and screamed?”

  “Good point. Maybe they thought he was dead already? What if they hit him and thought that throwing him off the side would cover up the evidence?” I pushed the button on the elevator. “That sounds like a spur-of-the-moment thing, a crime of passion. A fight that got out of control rather than a calculated murder.”

  Mary stepped into the elevator and pressed the top floor. “Unless he was drugged and then dropped over the side. That would be planned murder.”

  I nodded along. I bet the police knew. “Either way, lifting an unconscious body over the side of the wall would be pretty hard. You would either have to be pretty strong or have help.”

  “Like another person?”

  “I was thinking more like a forklift, pulleys, or something, but an accomplice would work, too.” We stepped into the hallway, and I lowered my voice. “The murderer or murderers were either really quick or really lucky. If someone had stepped into the hallway, they would have been caught.”

  Mary pulled out the key card and unlocked the door. “If this was a planned murder, it was a pretty risky plan.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The second day of the OIT Show began much as the first had. We were running a bit late, so Mary and I pushed through the throngs of people to the Westmound booth. The Westmound-Andersson team was having a meeting first thing this morning, and Liam said he’d see if he could find something for us to do. But for now we were supposed to hang out at the table they had given us with the literature for the Westmound Center for Competitive Shooting Sports.

  As we walked, I couldn’t hold back a large yawn. “We should have gone to bed earlier. I need my sleep.”

  Mary nodded alongside me. “Tonight, we can go to bed early.”

  “You say that now, but you’ll want to stay up and investigate again.”

  “Hey now, we got some great information last night.” She patted the messenger bag at her side. “We have everything we need to know about his show right here.”

  Moo yanked me to the side as he veered to the right. We had walked up to Karma, the yeti target, without me noticing. He pulled away and barked wildly.

  “Hey, Moo. Easy.” I look around, embarrassed. “Shh. Shh.”

  His barks transformed into whines, and he danced on the end of the leash.

  Mary grabbed my arm. “Come on. Let’s just go this way.” Mary dragged me farther down the trade show floor, a different way than we’d gone before. “No point in racing over to Westmound’s when we’re just going to be sitting there again.”

  “Well, I guess a small detour wouldn’t hurt.”

  We ducked down an aisle at the far side of the floor and cut down another row, when Mary stopped and grabbed my arm in front of a large booth on the corner. She whispered, “It’s him.”

  Mary turned her back to shield her hands from the booth then pointed back to the corner of the booth. “The bald guy over there next to the cart—he’s the one that comforted Hannah, the wife, when we found Cash’s body.”

  I spotted who she meant. He was short for a man, probably about my height, but quite muscly. His head completely lacked hair. Perhaps he shaved it? His shoulders were thrown back as he talked with an older man in camouflage pants. The booth surrounding him was large and covered in camo metal objects with wheels and railings, while the back wall had a logo and name, Lex’s Hunting Solutions. A few other people stood in the booth—an exceedingly tall gal and, tucked in a corner, sitting at a table, was Hannah, Cash’s widow.

  “Hark, Sherlock—a clue.” I jerked my head in Hannah’s direction and waited for Mary to catch on.

  “Good observation, my dear Watson. Interesting that she’s here.”

  I looked around the booth. “What are these things?”

  “Hunting stuff.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “The name of the company gave me that much, Sherlock.”

  She chuckled. “Oh, I didn’t see that. I forget that you aren’t familiar with hunting. Those over there are tree stands, harnesses, and ladders. In dense woods, people hunt from tree stands. The ladders help you get into the stand, and the harness keeps you from dying in the process. There are things to help you process the meat, and these look like some kind of wagon. Maybe to help you move the animal after it’s down, since they can be difficult to pack out in areas where you can’t drive cars or four wheelers. This company is listed as a sponsor of Hunting with Cash.”

  Lex lo
oked toward us and smiled. I nodded my head and started walking, dragging Mary alongside. After we were past the booth, I whispered at Mary, “Sorry to rush you out of there. If we stayed any longer, he was going to come and try to sell us stuff.”

  “Smart. I want to investigate him a bit before we talk to him.”

  We zigged and zagged through the booths until we were back at the Westmound booth. Behind our table was a brunette gal, lazily looking through the Westmound Center literature.

  We approached, and Moo put his large head onto the top of the table. She jumped then laughed. “Hey, puppy.” She looked at our name tags and jumped again. “Oh, I’m in your seat. I’m so sorry. We have a meeting here in a bit, and the seats were empty.” She dusted off the chair as words tumbled out of her mouth.

  I chuckled lightly. “No, no, it’s okay. Please sit. We sat there all yesterday, and if I sit any longer, I’ll go nuts.”

  “Are you sure?” She edged back toward the chair.

  “Yes, please. I’m Di, this is Mary, and this is Moo. We work at the Westmound Center for Competitive Shooting Sports in Wyoming.”

  She shook our hands then sat down. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jillian, and over there, by the shotguns, are my husband Jack, the redhead with a beard, and our videographer, Vinny. We’re from the hunting show Jack and Jillian Went up a Hill.”

  Mary sat next to Jillian. “Cute name for a show. You’ve a meeting here?”

  “Yeah, we’re meeting with Orion in the next hour. Westmound and their companies are our primary sponsors.”

  I scratched Moo’s rump. “That’s pretty rare, isn’t it?” Something said in passing this week made me think that it was rare for Orion to be involved in sponsorships.

  Jillian sat back and tucked some brown hair behind an ear. “It is. They sponsor us because we have a shared vision.”

  Moo pushed his rump higher in the air to get the most scratches from me that he could on his back. “Oh? Such as?”

  “Our show really is about getting everyone to hunt with a focus on the end product, providing meat for your family. We have a variety of hunts on the show, many of which focus on a guest hunter. Usually every season we have a disabled vet or a first-time hunter. A couple of times we have had a father and his child come on the show. We do a lot of emphasis on safety, humane harvesting. I end each show with a recipe to make at home, and all the meat we gather is shared with the homeless and poor community in our area.” Her face was lit up with excitement, her hands gesturing wildly.