Death on the Range: Target Practice Mysteries 1 (3 page)

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 description, 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.”

Tiger looked at Minx with a raised eyebrow and blew her a kiss. Honey crossed her arms and pursed her lips at Tiger.

The coaches’ heads swiveled as they followed the conversation like a tennis match. Mary was staring with rapt attention, like she was watching the screaming housewife show she loved.

Suddenly, Honey’s whole face changed to a brilliant smile, and she turned to the class again. She put her hands out to hold us at bay, as though we were about to rush her in excitement. “And I have one more bit of news that I know everyone will be thrilled to hear. My personal memoir, covering my entire archery career since I started shooting in college through the Summer Games, will be available very soon. So many people have been begging me for years to share my inspirational story, and I finally found the time to write it all down. Don’t worry, it’s full of the juiciest gossip in the industry, and I’m sure you will recognize some names.”

Pointedly, she looked at Owley, Minx, and Tiger in turn then shot a glance back to the class, but I couldn’t see who exactly she looked at before she sat back in her seat.

Jess had been standing at the front watching, but with a shake of her head she finally spoke up to bring the conversation back to the coaches’ course.

“Let’s dig into the material. We will be doing a quick overview of the new level 1 and 2 course before lunch, then afterwards we will hit the range with beginner bows to go over the basic form steps and make sure we are all on the same page with the US Archery Form System.”

***

After lunch, we headed over to the practice range. Mary and I jogged down the hallway to burn off the extra energy stored up from sitting all morning. I had a bundle of anxiety in my chest at the idea of shooting. I was looking forward to it in the way you look forward to seeing a best friend that you have lost touch with. Would it be the same? Could I still shoot? What if I hated it now? Why was I so nervous?

We had spent the morning going over the USAFS, US Archery Form System, which was the way all American coaches were being required to learn. The idea was a student could go to any coach and learn the same system. It was developed by the US National Coach for Archery. This was the first class with the new literature. Most of it covered the same things I had learned in college but with a specific name for each part of the shot cycle. The morning class had crept along as coaches asked for justification or wanted to share their view on why their way was better.

The worst offender was Honey. At least three times she stood up to say, “What I think Jess is trying to explain is…” I was ready to strangle her, but at least half of the class nodded along with her explanation. Every time Honey spoke up, Jess’s mouth tightened into a thin line until she would wrestle back control of the class.

After the third time, Minx told Honey, “If you slow down this class any more, I’m going to stab you in the eye with my pen.” After that, things moved a little faster.

Jess spoke loudly over the din on the range.

“Everyone grab a bow, a bow sling, and some arrows. We are using these beginner bows to make sure we know all the steps and to practice coaching each other. Please make sure you are using USAFS even if you use a different form yourself.”

Mary was next to me, and we hung back as people paired off and grabbed equipment. They were guests and had first dibs.

Bruce, the director of community archer education at the center, made a bee-line for Owley and pulled her off to the side. Honey stepped in front of them and said something I couldn’t hear. Bruce snapped back at Honey through bared teeth and stepped around her, dragging Owley out to the hallway.

As the crowd lessened, Mary and I stepped forward to pick up our equipment. Jess was getting all the pairs lined up in front of targets set at half the normal distance for inside shooting. Without the top-end equipment on the bows, like sights, clickers, and stabilizers, we would be happy to keep the arrows on the target mats.

Jess called out, “Hey, Honey, Tiger, would you be able to switch with Di and Mary? I think they could learn a lot from you two.”