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.”
Tony slammed the table with a hand, and I almost fell out of my seat as I jumped. He pointed at me. “I knew it. I knew there was something off, but no one believed me.”
I had a hand at my chest. “Sorry, you startled me.”
“I thought something was off but couldn’t prove it. I don’t have time to watch every episode of every show, but I started hearing about these unbelievable animals he was getting during public-land hunts, and after seeing the pictures, I started to think that maybe they literally were unbelievable.”
“What’s a public-land hunt?” I looked between Mary and Tony. “Sorry, I don’t hunt.”
Mary shook her head. “Super, super-simple explanation of hunting. You get a tag for a particular kind of animal, like a bull elk, for a certain section at a certain time. In the section is public land like national forests and BLM rangeland, and there’s private land, which is just that, land owned by people. Anyone can hunt public land if they have the proper tag, but you need landowner permission to hunt private land. Otherwise you’re trespassing, which is a huge deal.”
I nodded along. “And why is a big animal on public land unbelievable?”
Tony answered, “Anyone can hunt on public land, so you have a lot of people trampling through the woods, looking for a few animals. The pressure often pushes the animals off public land onto private, where t
here might only be a couple of people. You can get monsters on public land, but it’s a lot harder and doesn’t happen as often. A private hunt doesn’t guarantee you anything unless it’s a canned hunt, which we don’t allow, but your odds are better, especially at these places that are charging five or ten thousand for a hunt.”
“Ten thousand?”
“Yep, though for a hunting show they normally lower the fee and/or trade exposure on the show. How do I explain this?” He tapped his fist on his chin while staring off into the distance. “It wasn’t just that he got his huge bucks on supposedly public hunts; something just felt off. His early seasons were all really typical animals, then there was a season with one monster, then the next season everything he killed was a monster. Every animal was bigger than the last, every time. The episodes felt choppy. Sometimes the areas where he shot the animal looked really different than the camp, or he wouldn’t show the camp at all. I can never prove it, but the whole thing made me think something was off or wrong. And we’re not even getting into the difficulty of drawing tags for certain areas; that’s a whole different situation.”
Mary nodded along. “Yeah, I just gave the most general description I could. The reality is far more complicated than I can explain in a few sentences, for sure. So Hunting with Cash moved to another channel?”
“Yes, he came into negotiations and tried to play hardball. He wanted the best timeslot. Said this next season was going to blow the last season away, which only made me more nervous. In the end, I couldn’t give him the timeslot or price he wanted, and I was pleased when he said he’d be here negotiating a new timeslot with other channels. I think that was supposed to intimidate me.”
There was a knock on the door, and the blonde stuck her head in. “So sorry to interrupt, but, Tony, your next appointment’s here and waiting.”
Mary shut her notebook and packed it away. “We’ll get going. Thank you so much.”
Tony shook our hands. “Did you get everything you need? We got a bit off track at the end. If you need any more information, stop on by or email me.” He handed a card to Mary.
We left the booth and headed outside to give Moo a chance to stretch his legs. I mulled over what Tony had explained.
“Watson, I think Cash was killed because of this whole TV show business, but I’m not sure who or why. I just don’t know enough about hunting shows. ”
I smiled at her. “I still think Hannah is suspect number one, but you could be right, Sherlock. Let’s try to logic this out. If he lied, I’m sure people would be pissed, but who would want to kill him?”
“Sponsors of the show? It would make them look bad if one of their hunters was caught being unethical, but killing still seems extreme. What about someone on staff?”
“Wasn’t Cold his camera person last season? Oh man, I would love if it was Cold; he’s such a huge jerk. Maybe it was Hannah and Cold together?”
“Could be, and that would get a thorn out of my side, but… I wish I knew more. What we really need is someone that could really explain what would happen if he really did do what Tony thinks he did.”
I stopped and pointed at a camo booth we were passing. “Ask and you shall receive. Look.”
CHAPTER SIX
Jillian was in a camouflage booth, listlessly poking at a row of fluffy socks.
Mary rubbed her hands together. “Perfect.” She walked over to Jillian. “Hey, Jillian. How was the rest of your morning?”
She looked up with a smile. “Hey. Good to see you both. I’m”—she stepped in a bit closer and looked around—“about to lose my mind. I’m not used to standing around for hours, doing nothing.”
“Don’t you have people to talk to?” I wondered. “Making deals and such?”
She shrugged. “We’ve finished all our meetings. Now we are just looking at products or potential sponsors; you always need more. That’s not really my job, which is good because most people want to talk to Jack and Vinny anyways. I’m awful at small talk.” She poked at some long underwear.
“Mary and I were just heading outside to give Moo a walk for a few minutes. Why don’t you come with us?”
“Oh…” She dragged the word out and looked at her husband and Vinny in a conversation with a salesman. “I probably shouldn’t…” She looked at me with raised eyebrows, her head tipped to the left.
“Yes, you should. It’s cold outside, so we won’t be long. You’ll be back in no time. Plus, you can help us with another question with the article.
“Perfect.” She turned, darted over to her husband, and returned. “Ready to go.”
We fell into step as we moved toward the front entrance. A few dozen yards later, Moo barked loudly. Jillian leaped in the air and landed a few feet away, a hand on her chest. “Good gracious, he’s loud.”
I looked, and sure enough, Karma was visible. “Shhh, Moo. No barking. Sorry about that. Moo’s a bit freaked out by that big white yeti target over there.”
Jillian turned around to see Karma towering over the trade show floor. “Oh. I imagine that’s pretty terrifying to a dog.”
We walked out and grabbed her coat then stepped into the crisp winter air. She took a deep breath. “Feels nice not to be inside for a bit. Did you say that you had more interview questions?”
I looked at Mary and nodded my head toward Jillian, urging Mary to ask the question while I gave Moo a long leash to sniff the small patch of grass.
“We’re trying to get a feel for how this all works, so we have a hypothetical question. What would happen if a TV hunter said he was hunting on public but was really on private land?”
Jillian’s eyebrows scrunched up, and she frowned at Mary. “What would happen?”
I volunteered, “Like ramifications in the industry? Who’d be mad at him? How would it affect the show? That kinda thing.”
Jillian nodded. “And this is a hypothetical situation?”
I jumped in, wanting to be accurate without revealing our thoughts about Cash’s show. “We were talking to Tony Moore at Real Outdoor Adventures, and the topic came up about shows misrepresenting a private hunt as a public hunt. We don’t know enough to understand.”
Her eyes lit up when we mentioned Tony. “Tony’s great. He’s our contact at the channel as well. So, hypothetically”—she looked each of us in the eyes before continuing—“it would depend on the exact details, because what he… or she, I suppose…did could be illegal. All the outdoors shows edit to put their best foot forward, but you are asking about flat-out lying, right? Saying that the animal was shot in the national forest but really it was shot miles away at a private-land hunt?”
We nodded.
“It’d probably ruin their reputation if the news got out. Without knowing the exact situation, I’m just guessing, but this is the kind of thing that sends the industry into fits. Photoshopping. Poaching. Basically anything that doesn’t fall under the category of ‘honest, ethical sportsmanship’ can just kill a career. They’ll lose their sponsors and timeslot. It seems to be happening more and more, but it might just be that with the Internet these things are easier to discover and spread the word about.”
“Why do people risk it?” Mary wondered.
“Greed, I assume? People get away with it and figure that if it worked once, then they can do it again. But that’s ridiculous; people usually notice but don’t say anything. Sometimes we hear things. Just that a deer is too good to be true for a certain location, or the story doesn’t add up, that kinda thing. But I’m not going to risk my reputation accusing someone without proof. Actually, I’d never accuse someone personally, but others will. I never want to get in the middle of a mud fight; everyone gets dirty, even those in the right.”
I removed a blue plastic bag from Moo’s backpack as he started his complicated potty dance. We moved farther away so he could carefully sniff each blade of grass while I kept my attention on the conversation.
“Geez, it’s getting cold.” Jillian looked over at Moo. After a few seco
nds, she continued. “On top of everything else, it would be expensive.”
“How so?” Mary rubbed her arms with her hands and bounced lightly on the balls of her feet in the brisk air.
“We film some of our episodes on private land. We normally trade the hunt for publicity for the outfitters, the people that run the hunt. We might say, ‘We’re here at the beautiful Such-and-such Ranch, where we are guided by the amazing So-and-so Outfitters.’ We don’t pay for the hunt, and they get a free commercial. But if you weren’t going to advertise for them, then you would need to pay for the hunt. For ten episodes, that would be quite a lot of money. Plus, the risk’s huge that the outfitters would recognize the hunt and out you. I don’t know how the situation could work out long term. It would cost a ton of money.”
Moo finished up his business, and I threw away his mess then joined them. “Couldn’t you use money from the sponsors to pay for the hunts?”
She shook her head. “You need that money to pay for your timeslot, editing, salary, and such, unless the persons had a ton of money of their own to spend. But let me tell you, the money you get from companies is pretty tight. They’ve a very specific idea of what they are willing to pay, and it’s virtually impossible to get them to budge. We couldn’t get by on the TV money alone. Jack’s a tax accountant, so he busts his butt from January to about May. That helps balance out the money we get from the show.”
We pulled the doors open to the convention center and followed Jillian over to the coat check, where she dropped off her jacket. We kept ours since we were in and out so frequently with Moo.
She checked her watch and sighed. “I better go find Jack and Vinny, but thanks for the break. You know, we have a hunt planned in Wyoming this year. Maybe we can swing by the center and grab a meal together.”
Death at the Trade Show: Target Practice Mysteries 3 Page 8