Death Indoors: Target Practice Mysteries 4

by Nikki Haverstock

  I stood up to talk to Jess. "Oh, come on, you've got to be kidding me." I leaned in closer. "I'm shooting horribly."

  She grabbed both my shoulders so she could look into my eyes. "This whole event is beyond insane. I'm really proud of you. Just one more end."

  I nodded and started to head for the line when a slight blond lady grabbed my arm. "Pardon me, I just wanted to say thank you so much."

  "Uh, sure, for what?" She looked vaguely familiar.

  "For talking with CarolAnn."

  I scrunched up my face, trying to think of a CarolAnn.

  "Oh, she said you are calling her Davey Jones. She's having the best time shooting with you, and that's so special for her. She's been really depressed since we moved. We were going to homeschool her so she could continue at Coach Ron's program, but the counselor thought it would be more helpful for her to go to school and make friends. You know how junior high is. Anyways, she hasn't been this happy in a long time, and it's because of you. Thank you so, so much."

  I threw an arm around her neck and hugged her. "You don't know how much I needed to hear that." The two whistles to go to the line were blown. "I've gotta get to the line, but thank you."

  I bounced to the line, feeling lighter than air and recharged. Funny how a few encouraging words could change your mood. I shot my arrows, feeling strong and confident, and was shocked to see all three land in the gold. Sure, they might be clipping the edges of the ring, but that was the best I had done all day.

  I stepped off the line and set my bow down on the stand while stripping off my arm guard and chest protector. Once we were done scoring, I would have just enough time to change into my second, not grotty jersey. But before we could score and collect our arrows, the director of shooting came over the PA.

  "Archers, hold the line. Due to some protests that have been filed, we'll be extending the break. It's ten minutes after the hour. We'll resume shooting at the top of the hour. There'll be no practice ends. We will go directly into scoring. To repeat, shooting will commence at the top of the hour. You may pull your arrows."

  Jess went over to talk to the DOS, and before I could reach the target, the PA crackled to life again.

  "Those of you that are spending the night at the training center can meet with Jess next to the DOS stand to pick up your keys. Remember, shooting will begin in forty-nine minutes at the top of the hour." Jess stood, waving her hand high in the air.

  We scored our arrows, and the range emptied out. Jess handed out packets with keys. I took off my quiver and set it on our chairs.

  Liam leaned against the wall next to our chairs. "So... I can go get everything out of the car and stuff if you want to... uh..."

  I exhaled with gratitude. I hated to be away from him, but a few minutes of solitude were exactly what I needed. "Sit in a dark room alone and decompress? That'd be awesome. Thanks for understanding."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  By the time it was ten 'til, I was feeling better. I'd grabbed my clean jersey and gone to the bathrooms on the far side of the center. I'd splashed some water on my face and given the mirror a firm lecture on doing the Westmound name proud. I asked myself, how would Elizabeth Andersson handle the situation? She was not only the owner of one of the largest companies in our industry, but I'd found her to be a powerful and classy business woman that I, and Mary and Jess, looked up to. She would probably ignore all the drama and move forward with her best effort.

  I threw my shoulders back and resolved to block out everything this round. Racing back to the range, I ran into Jess.

  "Hey, I've been looking for you. Where've you been?"

  "Sorry, I changed into a fresh jersey, splashed some water on my face, and tried to get into a better frame of mind. I'm ready to focus on strong, aggressive shots." I reached over and gave her a hug. She might not be competing, but she was working hard too. "Thanks for your support earlier."

  She stiffened for a second and hugged me back. Her tense shoulders relaxed. "Of course! I'm here for all of you guys." She grabbed my arm and walked me into the range. "Do you need anything from me?"

  I shook my head at her. "I think I'm good. This must be the most stressful tournament you've ever coached at."

  She chuckled lightly. "In some ways yes because of the stuff Coach Ron has pulled today, but the archers are doing pretty well. It's not uncommon to have tons of archers having meltdowns because of shooting poorly or whatever. So far it's been difficult, but people are handling it really well. I'm going to check on Tiger and Mouse. If you need me, holler."

  I grabbed my quiver and put on my equipment and did some slow, easy stretches. Archers, parents, and coaches wandered around, and the range was quickly filling up. Liam and Moo weren't back, but they would be soon. The reverse-mullet mother who had filed the protest against Coach Ron, and vice versa, was hanging around the DOS stand talking to a few judges. A judge picked up the microphone, and her voice crackled overhead.

  "Coach Ron, Coach Ron, please come to the DOS stand immediately. Archers, five minutes until we resume shooting." The announcement cut off with a pop.

  "How you doing?"

  I swung around to see Loggin behind me. "Good, how about you?"

  "Pretty good, pretty good, not nearly as exciting as your end of the range. Can't you get things under control down here?"

  "I wish. Can you hear that coach that was standing behind me screaming through the entire first round?"

  "A little bit," said Loggin. "These things will toughen you up. You'll be a total rock star after today. Kill it." He extended his fist for a bump then trotted back to the compound end of the shooting line.

  I walked over to my bow near the shooting line and picked it up.

  The redheaded star student who stood to my left was arguing with her mother. "Where's Coach Ron?"

  Her mother shook her head, but her answer was lost in the announcement overhead.

  "Archers, two minutes. Two minutes until we resume shooting. There'll be no practice ends. We'll go straight into scoring."

  Maybe Coach Ron had been ejected by the judges. This day could be looking up.

  The whistle blew twice, and we approached the line. I took a deep breath, nocked an arrow on the bow, and waited for the single whistle to start shooting. The absence of Coach Ron's voice was a balm on my soul, and I had to remove the smile that crept up on my lips.

  The star student behind me was not as relieved. I could hear her shifting behind me and whispering to her mom to do something.

  The single whistle blew to shoot, and I felt ready to crush this round.

  As I released my first arrows, I was confident that it was a strong shot, so I was shocked to see an arrow land completely off to the right of my target in the lowest scoring ring.

  I assumed it was mine until Davey gasped and said over her shoulder, "I'm so sorry."

  "Hey, it's okay. These things happen." I whispered back. If I squinted, I could find my arrow on my target. Thankfully it was closer to the middle.

  Davey lifted her arm to shoot again, her entire little body shaking. As she released the arrow, it arched up, missed the target face, and barely caught the edge of the mat.

  I shot my arrow near my first arrow then looked at the target face to my left. The star student's target wasn't looking that great either. In fact, checking down the line, many of the targets had arrows outside of the scoring rings.

  I shot my last arrow and stepped off the line. Davey stepped off the line next to me and ran over to her mother to burrow her face into her mother's chest. The star student stepped off the line, tears running down her face. She dropped her bow down on the stand with more force than was necessary and stomped back to her mother.

  I put my bow down and eased away. The air felt tense and prickled with little snipped words. I retreated to my chair, where Liam and Moo had returned.

  "Hey, you're looking perkier. Sorry we weren't back before you started. We went outside during the break, and all the kids wanted to play w
ith Moo."

  I looked at Moo, collapsed on his bed his tongue hanging out and his eyes closed. His sides were still heaving. "Man, did they run him ragged?"

  "Pretty much. I wanted to get Moo fed so he was set for the rest of the day. By the time I wrestled him away, I was running late. How are you doing?"

  I shrugged. "Okay. This is the first end, so you didn't miss much. The screaming coach is gone. I wonder if they kicked him out."

  "Could be." He raised his eyebrows. "Don't worry about that now. Go kick butt. Hey, Jess."

  Jess had come up behind me. "You doing okay, Di? I saw some of the kids crying. What's up?"

  "The girl on my left was upset because Coach Ron wasn't there. I'm not sure what happened to the girl on my right, Davey, er... I think her mom said her name was CarolAnn. She had some bad shots, and that upset her."

  Jess nodded. "A lot of times the archers will do well one round then horrible the next, or the reverse."

  "Why?"

  "They get to overthinking. Wanting to do even better the second round or something. Then a bad arrow can throw them off. The key is to always focus on your form. Scores can be a distraction. What are you focused on?"

  "Strong, aggressive shots."

  "Good. Keep your head together."

  ***

  By the fourth end, it took everything in me to stay focused. The caterwauling of Coach Ron was gone, but in its place the archers around me were falling apart. The redheaded archer behind me, along with Davey in front, had cried their way through four ends. Serious Matt hadn't cried, but he was snippy and had grunted and groaned his way through the scoring.

  Mouse had a pass-through, where her arrow went completely through the target. They used the existing marked holes in her target, which she had changed after the first round, to determine which hole was made by the pass-through. Afterwards, they removed all paper target faces on her target mat and rolled out a new mat to her target stand to prevent it from happening again.

  Jess was talking to Brian off to the side as I approached Liam. Moo got up, stretching his front paws all the way out front, with his chest on the floor and his butt high in the air. His tail whipped back and forth while he stretched. Eventually he stood up and walking over to me.

  I knelt down next to him, and he jammed his wet nose into my eye. "Thank you, buddy." I scratched behind his ears as Loggin approached.

  "What is going on this round?"

  "What do you mean?" I stood up and wiped my hands on my black pants, leaving a trail of white dog hair across my thighs. Moo leaned into my legs, and with a sigh, I continued to rub his back as he rubbed an even layer of dog hair across the entire front of my pants.

  "Everyone's falling apart. I've not seen this many tears since I told the local ladies I was moving to Salt Lake City."

  "It's the same around here." I leaned in and lowered my voice. "What's going on?"

  "There's something in the air or something. It tends to be catching. A few people start shooting badly, and everyone around them catches it. Wait a second." He stepped away from me and held up his hands to ward off any bad energy. "How are you shooting?"

  I rolled my eyes at him. "Not awesome, but a little better than I was first round." It was true. I wasn't shooting as well as I had in practice this past week, but I had managed to pull myself together as well as I could. I stood a little taller. That wasn't a bad accomplishment.

  "Good, you're safe then. Did the screaming coach ever come back?"

  "No, actually." I looked around for Jess, who was no longer talking to Brian, and waved her closer. "Jess, what happened to Coach Ron? Did they kick him out?"

  She was chewing on her lip but stopped to answer. "No, they were going to ask a few more questions of him, but they couldn't find him. Instead, they asked Marie if she would be okay with them continuing the tournament and not ruling on either protest until they could talk to him."

  Marie Johnston must be the reverse-mullet mom who screamed that she would kill Coach Ron for filming her daughter. "That's ominous."

  Jess's eyebrows knit together, forming a deep wrinkle between them. "I know. If we could do one danged event without a murder, that would be awesome. I asked Brian if he would go look around. Hey, they're done fixing the targets. Go get ready to shoot."

  ***

  The rest of the tournament limped along. Archers around me sniffled and groaned, but I focused on my shooting and ignored it. The windows to the outside dimmed as the sun clung low in the sky. The hallway reflected the lights in the parking lot, and a faded sparkling of red and blue passed by at some point, making me think that Brian might have been called out. Little Davey Jones was no longer talkative, though I tried my best to be encouraging without being pushy. Star Student had huffed and gruffed her way through each shot. Serious Matt had explained in detail each end how much better he was in practice, even going so far as to pull out a notebook to show us his normal scores. And that was just the people around me. If I had a point for every slammed bow, teardrop, or "I think something's broken on my bow" uttered, I could have easily cleaned the three hundred round we shot.

  As we approached the target to score the last end, the DOS's voice crackled to life overhead, explaining what was required of us. "Make sure that the boxes on the bottom left are completely filled, and they must match what is in the electronic handheld. If the scores do not match, the lower score will be used. Each scorecard must have two signatures, the archer and the scorekeeper. The cafeteria is open and will remain open for the next ninety minutes. Thank you and see you tomorrow."

  I had just started to call my arrows, listing out the value of each arrow, when the overhead speakers crackled to life again.

  "Can the parents and coaches come over to the far side of the range where Jess is raising her hand?"

  Jess had her hand up by the door. Her mouth was a thin line, and her shoulders hitched up around her ears as she twisted her hands one around the other. Brian stood next to her, his thumb tucked into his belt and feet set wide.

  We finished up scoring. Carefully, we double-checked that each box at the bottom that summarized our scores matched the totals in the handheld. I carefully wrote out the numbers to make sure that none of the numbers were unclear or smudged. Jess had drilled into us the risk of an eight that looked like a three or a two that resembled a jaunty one.

  The meeting with Jess and Brian seemed to be breaking up, and people didn't seem happy; no one had a smile, a few faces were white, and a couple others were blowing their noses. Liam, Moo, Orion and Mary were in the crowd. I caught Mary's eye, and she cut across the range to meet me as I went to join the growing line of people clutching their scorecards to turn in.

  I turned in my scorecard and joined Mary. She leaned in close. "Coach Ron was found dead in the snow."

  I shook my head sadly but couldn't muster up any shock. "Murder?"

  "No! That's the surprising part. Brian thinks it was a heart attack. They already took him away."

  We walked back to my chairs, where I gathered up my bag and other things. "Wow, natural causes? That is a shock."

  "I'll save you and Liam a seat in the dining room." She walked on, and Orion fell into step beside her.

  I watched them leave the range.

  Liam ran a hand through his short hair. "What are you smiling about?" Moo shoved his face into my hand at the end of the leash that Liam held.

  "Oh, nothing." I gave him a smile. "I'm going to drop this stuff off and then grab dinner. You in?"

  "Perfect, I'm starving."

  ***

  By the time we got Moo sorted out and my stuff put away, the cafeteria was mostly empty and the dining room was full. The judges and tournament staff had been offered free rooms and food. The staff was clumped together in a loose group, while the judges were in the group to the side. They clung to the far wall, looking exhausted.

  Kids and their chaperones who were staying at the training center housing facilities were in loose groups. The adults
formed little knots, while the kids talked loudly and circulated among tables, running and screeching louder than necessary.

  And there was Mary, next to Orion, Moo and the rest of the gang. I stopped mid-step. They were my gang. I had a gang.

  "I almost crashed into the back of you." Liam swerved around me and kept walking to the table. He set down his tray of food and pulled out my chair, waiting for me to join the group.

  Mary was chatting with Orion while using her left hand to push Moo away from her plate. Tiger was balancing on the back two legs of his chair, despite the fact that Jess warned him that he was going to crack his head open one day. He snagged a fry off Mouse's plate while she talked to Minx. Loggin was next to Minx, sneaking a little glance at her before turning back to Jess.

  It had been a year ago today that I discovered that my best friend was having an affair with my husband. It had been the worst night of my life, and it'd taken me months to climb out of that hole and back into a new, stable life. But right here, right now, there was no place I'd rather be. I smiled at Liam, and my heart flipped in my chest.

  Liam continued to hold out the chair. "Di?"

  With a little jump, I stepped forward. "Sorry, I got distracted."

  The lights flipped off, and a chorus of gasps went up in the room. Then I heard Mary's voice singing.

  "Happy birthday to"--other voices joined her in singing to me.

  I looked around, and the kitchen staff was wheeling in a huge sheet cake with two number candles on the top. People joined in, though many stumbled over my name, obviously unclear on whose birthday it was. Martha from the kitchen rolled the cart over to my table, where I saw that the two candles listed my age as fifty.

  I closed my eyes to put up a birthday wish that my divorce would be finalized soon and blew out the candles to a round of applause. The lights flipped back on.

  "Okay, what jokester decided I was fifty years old?" I stood up and put my hands on my hips and glared around the table in my best impression of a grumpy old lady.

  Minx and Mouse started giggling.