Death at the Trade Show: Target Practice Mysteries 3 (10 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Hannah darted around the employee she had been talking to and approached Liam, dabbing at her eyes. Her eye makeup was perfect, and there was no evidence of crying, but she sniffled delicately before talking. “Oh Liam, I was hoping to talk to you. I’m Cash’s widow and”—she stopped mid-sentence and brought the clean tissue to her clear eyes again.

Liam looked like a deer in the headlights, and it only increased when she placed a hand on his arm and collapsed onto it to “cry.”

“Uhhhh…” He looked around for help. “Unfortunately, we have a full schedule. Perhaps we can get you a water?”

I scooted back into the room and grabbed a plastic bottle of water, and as I stepped back out with Moo, I grabbed Mary’s arm to drag her next to me. I tapped Hannah on the shoulder. When she turned, I offered the water. “How are you doing? All four of us were there when you found your husband.”

She took the water from my hand and opened it to take a drink. She carefully looked at Liam and Orion then Mary and me—two men, two women, travelling together—and did the math. She put the lid back on and faced me. “I’m barely holding on. Pardon my breakdown. I just wanted to thank everyone that found Cash after his fall.”

I stepped between her and Liam and put an arm around her shoulder, steering her farther away. “Of course. If there is anything I can, you just let me know.”

I stepped away, and we exchanged a long look. She was much shorter than my average height. This close, I realized that she was much older than I’d guessed. I had pegged her age around mine, thirty, but she was probably in her forties. Her makeup was impeccable and expertly done. There was not a single wrinkle on her forehead or between her eyebrows, though there was the faint play of crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. Most likely she used Botox to tame those forehead muscles. Her lips were full but in the trout-pout way that indicated fillers. She was thin but had a strength to her. Probably hours in the gym with yoga, Pilates, and whatever exercise class was most popular right now. Her hair was laced with highlights and lowlights, each whimsical curl turning just right. She looked great and obviously spent a lot of money to maintain that look. She was everything that Kandi, with her layers of heavy makeup and brassy hair color, strived to be but missed.

Her voice was cool when she replied, “Thank you, I’ll be fine.” Then she turned on her petite feet and walked away.

Moo whined next to me, and I realized I was clenching the muscles in my mouth, my teeth grinding. “Shhh, Moo. It’s okay.” I stomped back to Mary.

She was staring with wide eyes. “Di.”

I cast a glance over my shoulder then leaned in to Mary to say in a quiet voice, “Can you believe she came over here sniffing around Liam?” I looked around for Liam, but both he and Orion were gone, probably in a meeting.

“Di,” Mary repeated.

“She did it. I just know it.”

“Di?”

“What?” Hearing my own voice in my ear, I was embarrassed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. I mean, what?” I repeated in a gentler tone.

“Your face is really red.”

“What?” I lifted a hand to my face, pushing on my hot cheeks.

“You went all Hulk when she touched Liam, but instead of green, you went red. I thought you were going to hit her.”

“But… I kinda thought I handled it smoothly.” The anger drained out of me, and embarrassment rose in its place.

Mary shook her head. “I’ve seen boxing matches that were less aggressive.”

Frantically, I looked around the booth to see if anyone had noticed; perhaps they would be staring and laughing. “Do you think anyone noticed?”

Mary smiled. “Liam looked totally relieved when you marched her away, but Orion was holding back laughter.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Geez, this is embarrassing.”

“Why? Everyone knows you two are a thing.”

“We’re not a thing.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are so a thing. There’s a betting pool at the training center.”

“There is not! Who is in on it? What does it say?” I gasped.

She shrugged. “No idea. I only found out by accident, and they won’t tell me any more. They said I was too close, and it’d be like insider betting.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never brought up Liam that way. I know you’re really private, and you would bring it up when you were ready.”

“Oh, Mary, I’m private, but we’re friends. You can tell or ask me anything.”

She smiled. “Okay, then. Do you really think Hannah killed Cash, or were you just mad?”

I leaned back and gave the question weight. “She was definitely buttering Liam up for something. Or trying to. That’s weird. We thought it was weird when Kandi did it last month, and it’s weird now.”

Mary scooted closer so our sides were pressed up against each other and no one could overhear. “She’s so tiny—no way she could have thrown his body up over that wall onto the floor below.”

“She either found a way to do it alone or had help. She was already at the top of the list, but this little act today really makes me suspicious. Tonight, let’s see if we can figure out what floor he fell from and if there was any way she could have done it alone. We’ll nail her to the wall.”

“If she’s guilty?”

“Huh?” I turned to Mary.

“Only if she’s guilty will you nail her to the wall?”

“Of course.”

She shook her head and blew out a sigh. “Good. You were sounding a bit bloodthirsty there for a bit. Wanna take Moo out for a walk then get started?”

“Good idea. I could use some cold air on my face to clear my head.”

***

The afternoon had lazily crawled along. We visited Crystal-Clear Optics, the second name on Westmound’s list. It was a high-end booth with a beautiful array of products. A saleswoman had given us a suggested retail price list that blew my socks off, but after looking through a few spotting scopes and seeing the image quality, I was wondering if I should save up to buy one myself.

We had seen about a third of the main exhibit hall booths, then we ran into Sarah, who had news for us.

“Glad to catch y’all. Tony Moore at Real Outdoor Adventures said he could fit you in for an interview for your article. If you follow this aisle all the way to the end and turn left, you’ll see the booth. Just let the secretary at the front desk know I sent you over to meet with Tony Moore, and she’ll take care of you. Sorry, gotta run.” Without a second look back, she darted away.

Mary was still digging through her bag and pulled out her notebook to jot down the name. “Should we head over there now?”

I nodded. “Do you have a plan, Sherlock?”

“I’ll start with the stuff we need for the article and see if I can bring up Cash at all. His website had Real Outdoor Adventures listed as their channel for the last season.”

As we walked along, people pointed at Moo and whispered. A few even greeted him by name, though none said anything to Mary or me. “I guess Moo is the real celebrity around here.”

Mary snorted. “Maybe we should pitch a hunting show to this guy.
Hunting with Moo
.”

“
Moo & Moose
.”

“We could get him an orange safety jacket and a pair of doggy binos.”

We snorted as we approached the Real Outdoor Adventures booth. It had two rows of offices, the doors facing each other like a hallway in a school. There was a large-flat screen TV playing hunting footage. Set a few feet to the left of the TV was a podium with a pretty blonde behind it.

Mary stepped forward and looked at her notebook before greeting the lady. “Hi. Sarah from the OIT Show sent us over to set up an interview with Tony Moore.”

She looked us over carefully, not rudely but not friendly either. I wondered if her job was more gatekeeper than anything. “Hold on just one second.”

She moved to the row of offices on the left and knocked on the middle of three doors. She ducked into the room, and when she stepped back, she was far more welcoming. She had a bright smile on her face, and she waved us over.

“Can I get either of you water?” She pushed the door open and gestured for us to enter.

“Nothing for me.” I stepped into the room, slapping my thigh to get Moo’s attention.

“No, thank you.” Mary said as she followed me in and sat down next to me.

We introduced ourselves to Tony and shook hands while the blonde closed the door to the office.

Tony sat back in his seat. “Can you explain to me what the interview is about?”

Mary pulled out her notebook. “We were talking to Sarah about the hunting industry, and she suggested we write an article on the topic, so here we are.”

“And how does that relate to Westmound?” He pointed at her shirt.

“It doesn’t. We both work at the Westmound Center for Competitive Shooting Sports in Wyoming and came to the OIT Show, but it turns out they don’t need us. I also write articles about the archery industry, and since we were just hanging around, Sarah asked if I could write an article.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve heard of the Westmound Center. It’s supposed to be really nice.”

“It
is
really nice.”

He leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands together. “We have a show all about competitive shooting. I wonder if the center would be interested in working with them?”

I dug into my bag and grabbed one of Robbie’s business cards and handed it across the table. “This is the director of the center. I’m sure he would love to talk to you about it.”

“Thank you.” He slipped the card into the portfolio holding a legal-size pad of lined yellow paper. “Are you a writer as well?”

I laughed. “No, I’m just the sidekick, and Moo’s our mascot.” I gestured to Moo, who was sprawled across the floor.

He chuckled and turned back to Mary. “Just to warn you, I am sneaking this between two other meetings. If we can’t finish today, we might be able to meet again later.”

“No problem. We’ll just skip the part where we pitch you our own hunting show and go straight to the questions,” Mary quipped.

“You wouldn’t be the first to pitch an outrageous hunting show; everyone wants one. People are constantly telling me they have a great idea for a show.” He pursed his lips and shook his head.

“What makes a great show?” Mary looked at him, her pen poised in the air, ready to write down his answer.

“First off, any show that wants consideration has to have a minimum level of production quality with interesting hosts. That’s a given. A show would submit a pilot to us, and if we offer you a timeslot, we expect you to maintain that quality.”

Mary was scribbling in her notebook. “Let’s assume they are interesting enough and the show looks good. What’s next?”

“We try to balance our schedule. We have four quarters for ten to twelve weeks each quarter, with a few extra weeks here and there. Most of our shows run for one quarter a year. We try to balance each quarter—some hunting, some fishing, some competitive shooting—then we want to get a good mix within those categories, so salt- versus fresh-water fishing, bowhunting versus rifle, public land versus private hunts, that kind of thing. But all those shows have to promote ethical hunting and fishing practices as well as firearms and general safety.”

They continued to talk about demographics of modern outdoor sportspersons while I zoned out. I was starting to feel the late nights and early mornings. Since moving to Wyoming and taking the job at the center, my stress levels had fallen off immensely. I usually slept nine hours every night and did a variety of physical activities every day, from shooting archery to hitting the weight room for a quick jog and weight circuit. I was probably already healthier after a few months than I had been any time since college.

Drowsiness was coming over me, and I fidgeted in my seat to stay awake. Maybe if I closed my eyes for just a second to rest them, I’d feel better, but instead I jerked awake in my seat as I started to drift off. Moo was up and poking me in the side with his nose. I could blame some of the lack of sleep on Moo, who kicked me in the side at two a.m. when he was dreaming about running.

I shifted in my seat some more, trying to find a comfortable position. The pasta from lunch was heavy in my stomach, and I’d kill for a blanket and pillow. Mary was writing down something about commercial timeslots, how many banners were allowed during the shows’ introductions, and when contracts were renewed. If I didn’t fall asleep soon, I was most definitely going to die of boredom.

I heard my voice talking before my brain had actually decided to speak. “
Hunting with Cash
is on your channel, right?”

Mary turned to stare at me, her nostrils flaring.

Tony looked at me, but his face was totally blank. Real Outdoor Adventures must train all their staff to master the unreadable expression. “It was decided a few weeks ago that we would be parting ways. We’re sorry for his family’s loss.” It was a diplomatic and appropriate statement.

What wasn’t he saying? I waffled for a second but pressed again. “Probably smart. I heard there was something off about his last season.”