Death on the Range: Target Practice Mysteries 1 (5 page)

“Last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and went over to the center to run. When I got to the weight room, Honey was there, uh…” I hesitated; I had never had to share this kind of news and was unsure of what to say. “Honey’s dead.” I ran through the rest of the story briefly as best I could. When I finished, Mary sat there briefly before responding.

“Poor Honey. I can’t believe she was murdered.” She got up to grab a few tissues from my small bathroom and handed one to me.

We dabbed at our eyes. “Yeah, Liam was pretty sure, and based on how the police questioned me, I’m pretty sure they thought the same thing. They had me tell my story forward and backward a dozen times.”

“You call him Liam?” She looked at me, puzzled.

“Yeah, he said he prefers Liam to Lumberjack.”

Mary moved over to the foot of my bed to pet Moo behind the ears. “Then I’m calling him Liam, too. I can’t believe he rushed in to save you then actually sat and talked with you.”

“What else was he going to do? I was a total mess.” I scratched Moo’s back as he stretched from one end of the bed to the other.

“I’ve known him for years, and I don’t think he has spoken more than a few sentences.”

That was surprising to hear. “Like shy?”

Mary pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. “No, shy isn’t the right word. He’s just…” She adjusted her position on the bed, sitting crosswise so she could lean on the side wall. “It’s like he was only given a hundred words each day and he wants to use them carefully.”

A hard, fast laugh escaped my lips and startled Moo. “That’s really poetic, Mary.”

She smiled back. “What can I say, I’m a writer.” Suddenly her whole face changed. She leapt off the bed and ran from the room, chanting “Oh my gosh” over and over. After a minute she reappeared in the doorway holding a USB stick aloft.

“It’s a clue.” Then she ran back onto the bed while talking so quickly that I could barely keep up. “For the past few years, instead of going to college, I have been freelance writing for the archery industry so I could stay at home with my mom. I covered tournaments, products, companies, basically anything for the industry. Yesterday, Honey asked if I could do a little bit of editing on her memoir. She gave me this copy. She said there was dirt on everyone, including people here, then she looked around at everyone.”

“She said something about that in class, right? I thought she was going to pay someone to write it for her.” We shared a quick smile then sobered. “I’m an awful person for saying that.” I looked at my lap. Who mocked a dead person?

“Then I’m awful, too. I don’t want her dead, but I feel badly that I don’t feel worse. You know what I mean? And it is even worse ’cause she was murdered.” Moo crawled up into Mary’s lap, and she stroked him a few more times then looked at me. “Who did it? Do you think a crazy person could have wandered into the center and killed her?”

“I hope so, but it is a bit of a stretch. Someone would need to either walk from the highway or have the code to the entrance. Then they would need to get a key to the center, and how would they even know Honey would be there? But if it was someone here, then who?”

We sat in silence for a bit, each lost in our own thoughts. Moo had crawled farther up the bed, and his large block head lay across my lap. I pushed on him but he pushed back. I gave up. “Hey, could you grab that notebook and pen on my desk. We can make a list.”

Mary handed them to me and listed off the suspects. “You, me, Tiger, Minx, Owley, Bruce, Liam, and Jess. Is that it?”

I carefully wrote out each name and stared at the list. “Let’s add Stranger to the bottom, just in case.”

Then I drew a heavy line through my name. Mary leaned over to catch a glance at what I was doing. I angled that list so she could see.

“I crossed myself off the list. I know I didn’t do it.”

Mary pointed at her name. “Cross me off the list, too.”

“Do you have an alibi?” I raised my eyebrows at her.

“No, do you?”

“Okay, okay, I can just rearrange it.” I put our names at the bottom and wrote Liam above us. “I don’t think Liam did it then stayed in the building. He didn’t seem guilty. I can’t imagine Jess killing anyone so I’m putting Jess above us. How about putting Tiger at the top? Isn’t it usually the lover?”

“He’s a good suspect, though I hadn’t heard they were dating until Honey said something.”

That reminded me of something. “Yesterday when we were partnered up, he said they were a reality couple and put air quotes around reality. I’m going to put Minx under Tiger; she didn’t seem to like Honey.”

Mary shrugged. “That’s just Minx. She gives everyone a hard time. Put Owley below her.”

“Why?”

“Honey shot against Owley at the Summer Games during the elimination matches and knocked Owley out of the competition. It was a big upset, because Owley’s a much better archer. Maybe Owley is exacting her revenge? Plus, she’s just weird.”

“Of course, weird.” I looked at the new list and compared it to our first one. “Where does Bruce fit? I saw him with Owley, and he snapped at Honey.”

Mary’s head snapped around to me. “What did they say?”

I shrugged and told her about the interaction I had seen. She leaned forward as I explained, then she blurted out, “You should have told me sooner. Bruce was Honey’s coach at the Summer Games, but I heard they weren’t working together anymore. I wonder what he told Owley. Maybe he was trying to get her to hire him as a coach.”

“Why did Honey stop working with him? Did she fire him?”

“I don’t know. Do you think there is something in the memoir about it? I’ll be right back.”

I looked at the list. I would prefer to think that it was Bruce, Tiger, Owley, or Minx because I knew them the least. Mary was right; the memoir might have a clue as to the motive. I tossed the notebook on my desk and crawled out of bed. Moo stretched out on the now-empty bed and sighed deeply. Neither of us had enough sleep. I felt shaky, and the clothes I had fallen asleep in were sticky and no longer comfortable.

I stepped into the small shared area between our two rooms. It had a TV, a very stiff couch with removable pillows that could double as a bed in a pinch, a chair, and the world’s smallest kitchenette. Mary was working on her computer.

“I’m going to hop in the shower real quick. You need to give the memoir to the police.”

Mary looked up from her computer. “I’m totally ahead of you on that one. You want me to make you some coffee?”

“You’re a saint.”

In the shower, I let the hot water run over me until I felt human again. It had been a long time since I had gotten so little sleep; probably not since my ill-fated thirtieth birthday party, when my marriage had officially been destroyed. At least no one had died that night, though I could have killed several someones.

When I emerged from the shower dressed in my most comfortable clothes, Mary was on the phone.

“Oh, she just got out of the shower. We’ll be there in a minute.”

She handed me a coffee, and I wrapped my hands around the warm cup as she hung up and turned to me.

“Jess wants us to come over as soon as possible. She sounds stressed. Are you ready?”

I slipped on my outside shoes and looked around for the shoes I wore in the center when I realized I had lost them sometime the night before. The oversized boots designed for outdoor work were warm and comfortable but ridiculous for indoor wear. When I had gone to town last week, I had picked them up along with half a dozen pairs of athletic indoor shoes to put on while at work. It was common to take off your shoes at the door and would be required at the center during winter and mud season.

I grabbed a different pair from my room and called Moo to my side.

“I think I’m ready.”

Mary grabbed a stack of items off the corner of the counter and opened the door. We stepped out into the chilly morning.

***

As we stepped into the building and slipped into our athletic shoes, we ran into Liam. As he approached, Mary peeled off and headed toward an officer, with the USB containing Honey’s memoir in hand. Liam greeted Moo with a head scratch before greeting me.

“How are you feeling today?”

Last night I had been so distracted by Honey being dead that I hadn’t fully appreciated Liam’s good looks. He was even more handsome in daylight. I suddenly felt shy and took a few seconds to gather my composure by tucking a nonexistent lock of hair behind my ear. “Oh, I think I feel about how you would expect after discovering a murder and getting a few hours of sleep with a beast bedded down on my knees.”

Liam chuckled. “I make him sleep on the floor, but once he snuck up on the bed and pushed me off.”

We both laughed then stared at Moo. Liam seemed to want to say more, and after a few seconds he hesitantly began. “Be careful. We don’t know who killed Honey or why. You and Mary should stay together. I’m taking Moo to my room for breakfast and then grabbing a quick nap, but I’ll try to find you later today.”

I started to dismiss his concerns, but he interrupted me. His eyes were a little bloodshot, and I couldn’t quite tell if they were blue or green. I wanted to lean closer and find out.

“Just be careful. It took us forever to hire a tech person. We can’t lose you now.”

Mary came back to join us and greeted Liam. “Hey, Liam, I hear that you were a hero last night.”

Liam nodded his head back quickly in an acknowledgement at Mary, and just the edges of his mouth moved in the smallest of smiles. Then he gave us a wave and headed out of the center with Moo.

Mary turned to me and smacked my arm. “See? If he strung more than two sentences together when talking to me, I would die of shock. Did he actually talk to you?”

I watched Liam as he walked with Moo bounding along at his side across the parking lot toward the housing units before returning to Mary to reply. “Yeah, he said we should stick together until the police figured out who the killer was. Did you give them the memoir?”

Mary gave me the side eye for a few seconds before answering. “Yep, though they didn’t seem convinced that it held any great secrets, plus they quizzed me on where I was last night.”

We walked down the hallways toward Jess’s office, which was just past Robbie’s office. Jess was slumped over her desk, her head hidden beneath a mound of dark curly hair. Her arms were thrown across the desk. A bottle of antacids was knocked over with a few escaped tablets flung over the desk. I tentatively knocked on the door.

“Jess?”

A mumbled wail emerged from under the mountain of hair.

“Mary, can you give Jess and I a few moments to talk privately?”

Mary gave a snort and slid down the wall of the hallway and flipped open her tablet.

I stepped into Jess’s office and pulled a chair up to the desk. Reaching over, I patted her hand. “Hey, you okay?”

Jess jerked her head up. I pulled back in shock and let out a small peep of surprise. Her eyes had deep circles under them that were reminiscent of a raccoon—a combination of lack of sleep and smeared mascara. Her hair formed a halo of fuzzy curls all around her head.

Before I could think, I blurted out the first thought in my head. “Good gracious, you’re a hot mess.”

She glared at me. “Gee, that’s helpful, Di. This is the worst day of my life. What am I going to do?” Her breath reeked of berries and coffee. I reeled back, crushing pink-and-purple antacids under my heel.

She belched loudly and finished off the coffee in her mug.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay.” Whether it was true or not, it seemed like the right thing to say, but Jess disagreed.

“How?” she wailed. “I was up late going over the material for today, then suddenly there were cops everywhere. I went outside and they told me there had been a death. The center has only been open for a short time, this was my first big event, then Honey had to get murdered.”

“I doubt that was really Honey’s fault.”

Jess glared at me and continued. “She could have at least had the decency to die later. Who is going to want to come to the murder center now? Everything is ruined. Ruined.” Her voice was steadily rising as she spoke. I shushed her as best I could before she got hysterical. She ran her hands through her hair and pulled out an antacid.

I tried to guide the conversation in a more helpful direction. “What are you going to do today?”

“See if New Zealand needs archery coaches? See if I can volunteer for the witness protection program? See if that Mars mission is full already?” She collapsed on her desk again.

“Oh come on, don’t you think you are overreacting a bit?”

She looked up at me aghast. “Overreacting? After I called Mary, I had to explain to the owner of Westmound that a Summer Games athlete died at her brand new center. How could this day get any worse?”

I looked at her for a second before quipping back, “At least you aren’t Honey.”

Jess stared at me then started giggling. The giggling changed to full-blown laughter, and she clutched at her stomach, gasping for air. She wiped her eyes. “Poor Honey. I’m such an awful person.”

I shook my head in sympathy. Honey had made a beautiful corpse. She looked better dead than either Jess or I looked this morning. Her makeup hadn’t been smeared, and other than all the blood, her hair was perfect.