Death at the Summit (11 page)

I returned the favor and cut him off. “I don’t need to know the nitty-gritty of the rule changes.”

He chuckled. “That’s okay, I never really understood it. They have a million divisions, and I can’t keep the equipment rules straight.”

“I don’t remember there being a million different divisions.” I had only competed a little bit in high school and then all through college, but in my memory, there were only two divisions: recurve and compound.

“It’s a different organization than what we’re training for now. There are several different ones in the United States, but our organization doesn’t have a bowhunter division. I can explain it all to you some time when you have several hours and a desire to learn all the acronyms.”

“Sure. Let’s schedule that for never. Tiger, Bucky said that something was shady about the rule changes. What do you think?”

“Totally. People were super upset and were signing petitions. They said they would review the decision but not until halfway through the season. People were forced to buy new sights. Conspiracy theories were running wild that MacSights was behind it. They must have made a buttload of money. Everyone bought one of their sights; probably why M.C. is walking around on the biggest waste of money on earth.” Tiger shook his head in disbelief.

“I thought Bucky was being dramatic, but maybe not.” I leaned over to study the list. “What is the deal with Kandi and Cold? Do guys talk about that kinda thing?”

Tiger chuckled. “Depends. I don’t need to brag about all beautiful ladies that I have spent time with. But I have a feeling that Cold is the other type of guy.”

“If you are a paragon of virtue, then we’re in big trouble. What do you know about Cold?”

“He used to be a pro 3D shooter. Good but probably wasn’t making a living; few do. At some point, he switched over to filming the 3D circuit instead of competing. Posting live scoring for the pro divisions, took videos, and so on. He gets sponsored by companies to cover his expenses and has built quite a following. I think he makes a solid living now. I hear he is expanding his archery coverage. I’ve grabbed a few drinks with him at the Vegas tournament. He definitely thinks he’s a big deal.”

Mary muttered under her breath, “Jackwagon.”

The door of the conference room banged open, and Indy and Mouse stood there.

I leaped out of my chair. “Why would you do that? Don’t go around throwing doors open.”

“We decorated cookies for you.” Mouse extended a plate.

Feeling like a total jerk, I took a deep breath before replying. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

They brought over the cookies, and Mouse placed them on the table before tucking back under Indy’s arm. The blank angel cookies we had seen earlier were now decorated in long flowing gowns. Some of the gowns were solid colors hastily smeared over the entire cookie while others were a mix of colors with sprinkles accenting certain areas.

“These are beautiful. Where did you get the supplies? Mouse, did you make these?” I pointed to the carefully crafted dresses with ornate accents.

“We found all the supplies in the refrigerator, but I made these ones.” She pointed the angels of red smeared hastily across the top. “Indy did the pretty ones.”

Indy ducked his head, his bangs falling across his eyes.

“They’re really nice, Indy. Do you make icing dresses often?”

He laughed. “No, it was my first time, but it was fun and tasty. I’m crazy into drawing. You know that Minx is the one that got me started in art, right?”

“Oh really? Tell us.” Maybe we could get some information about Cold from him plus I was genuinely interested.

He pulled a table around sideways so he could sit on it and face us. He patted the spot next to him and Mouse joined him. Her ears poked out through her hair, and her bangs fell over half her face.

“A while ago, my dad, Cold, dated Minx. I lived with my grandparents but I got to hang out with her once. Dad told her that I liked to draw, so she brought me an art set, and we drew together. I sent her a few pictures after that, and she always wrote thank you notes with a photo of the drawing hanging on her wall. It meant a lot of me. She told me that she still has them. She’s so cool. Plus, she slapped Kandi. That was awesome.”

I exchanged a quick smile with Mary—this was going well. I hadn’t put together that Indy’s dad was Cold until now, but I should have. “Don’t like Kandi, do ya?”

“Gah, not at all. Dad dated her, as well. I would spend time with him in summer, and one year, she was there. She talked down to me, tried to discipline me, and took Dad away from me during my time with him. One time, I was playing my video games, but she wanted us to go to the mall. I refused, and she said I was mouthing-off. She reached up, and I thought she was going to hit me.” Indy pulled a face.

“What happened?”

“Dad grabbed her hand and hauled her out of the room. She left after that, and Dad and I hung out the rest of my vacation.”

“Wow. That’s awful. Was this the first time that you saw her again?”

“Yep, she looks rough.”

I coughed delicately. I was not a big fan of judging people on their outsides, but I hadn’t heard anything about her insides to make me think it was any better. I looked around to see if anyone would pick up the ball on the conversation.

Indy saw my attention wandering off and offered up more. “But I think she wants my dad back. She’s been calling him for the past month or two.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve lived with my dad since fall. I didn’t want to go to college, so Dad’s helping me figure it out. That is why I’m here this weekend. I was going to see about the OSA program, and Dad pulled some strings to let me come this weekend, but I would rather go help him film tournaments this spring. He is working on expanding his tournament coverage, and he really needs me to help him.”

Indy’s lit up when he talked about his dad. Cold wasn’t that great of a guy, but maybe he was a good father.

“I wonder why she’s calling?” I let the question dangle.

“She totally wants my dad back. Says she’s poor and whatever, but she’s no good.”

There wasn’t much more I could ask without pointing out that his dad was a jackwagon. It didn’t seem right to do anything that would undercut the respect he had for his dad, no matter my opinion.

“What about you, Mouse? What’s your deal?”

“I was home-schooled so that I could shoot archery. I graduated early so I could train more. I applied to be an OSA, but I’m not sure.” It all came out in a rush directed at the floor behind her dangling feet. She flicked her eyes to look at Indy then cast them down at the floor.

“Okay, well, thanks for the cookies. They are delicious.”

“Ya, ya, ya,” Indy said. He hopped off the table and reached for Mouse’s hand. “I bet the game is finished downloading. We’re gonna go.”

After they left the room, I picked up a cookie. “I can barely stand to eat it. They are really nice.”

Mary leaned over and snagged it from my hand. “I’ll take care of that for you.” She bit into it. “Mmm, beautiful and tasty.”

Minx poked her head in the door. “Here you are. Someone shoot me now.”

Mary pulled out a chair and patted the seat. “How did it go?”

“Awful, just awful. The absolute worst. It was like being five and screwing up all over again, but I’m an adult and should know better. Elizabeth wasn’t mad; she was just disappointed in my behavior.” Minx walked past the chair and instead lay down on the floor facedown in despair. “I’m the biggest failure ever.”

Mary raced over and patted her head. “No, you’re not a failure. You just… um…”

She looked at me for help. I didn’t have much comfort to offer. Minx had been difficult since she’d arrived and gotten into a lady tussle. I tried to add some encouragement. “Indy thinks it’s cool that you slapped Kandi.”

Minx pushed up on her elbows to look at me. “Great, does he have a training center that I can work and live at?”

Mary sat down crossed-legged. “Oh no, did they turn you down?”

“Not yet. They said they will have to take everything into consideration, but I know what that means.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you. And so will Di.”

Mary had always had a fondness for Minx that outweighed my own. Her humor often crossed over into rude, she could be difficult to communicate with, and she’d given me a nickname I hated. I also knew from experience that I didn’t want to damage my reputation by hitching my cart to an unstable horse. “I’m sure they won’t ask my opinion.”

“Guys, I know I was all, ‘I can be Daphne from Scooby-doo and help solve the crime,’ but I really don’t want to right now. Would anyone mind if I went to my room and showered? I have cried too many times today, and I feel gross.”

We still had a killer roaming around somewhere. “This might be a weird suggestion, but I think you should take Tiger with you be—”

Tiger cut me off. “Awesome, I approve.”

I gave him a stern look, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my lips. “Because I really don’t think anyone should be alone.”

“Plus, I could scrub your back.” Tiger gave Minx wink.

Minx rolled off her stomach into a sitting position then stood up. “Tiger can come, but no back scrubbing. We clear?”

Tiger gave a gigantic sigh, but from the look in his eye, I bet he tried to convince Minx a few more times to share a shower. “I suppose so.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After a few minutes, Mary and I walked into the hallway. I was busy talking to Mary and didn’t notice that I was about to run into Cold until she grabbed my elbow.

I gasped. “Sorry, Cold, I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

Cold sneered at me while Kandi hovered behind him. “Ya, whatever, Kandi wants to ask you something.” He turned to her. “Geez, we found them. Go ahead and ask.”

She had a wide smile on her face. “The bathrooms we used earlier had a shower in them. I was hoping to use one.”

“I’m going back to the dining room.” Cold threw over his shoulder as he left.

She turned to watch him leave, the smile slipping as her eyes narrowed. She turned back to me, the big, fake smile back in place.

No way was I going to offer her our shower. I didn’t want her in our room, free to poke through our things, or even worse, be naked in my bathroom. I would need to bleach the entire place before I could shower again. And obviously, the bathrooms she’d used earlier were still off limits until Mac’s body was removed. “Those bathrooms are closed off. Sorry.”

“There are other bathrooms, on the gun side of the center,” Mary offered. She was a nicer person than I was to find a solution.

I turned to Kandi. “Oh, I forgot about those. Do you need anything to shower?”

Kandi patted a huge designer bag covered in logos hanging off an arm. “Like all women, I keep everything I need in here.”

“You carry soap with you?” I didn’t think I had anything like that in my purse.

She looked at me, puzzled. “Soap, a hand towel, make up and several pairs of extra undies. You don’t?”

“Several pairs?” slipped out before I could stop myself. There are several reasons that someone might need to carry several pairs, and all were private reasons.

Kandi rolled her eyes at me. “I should have known by looking at you two that you wouldn’t understand. If you every want to learn how to get ahead in life, let me know. I’ll show you how to use your real
assets
. Especially you, Mary, you’re young and have that exotic oriental thing going on.”

“I’m from Minnesota. Plus, rugs are oriental. People are Asian,” Mary said.

Kandi rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

As we walked down the hallways, the answer to the question of whether Kandi was looking rough or not was obvious. The promotion images on the MacSight booth had been heavily altered. Thin lines from the corner of her eyes, like the kind starting around my own, showed her as slightly older and the dull orangey tint of her skin indicated a spray-tanning obsession. Her hair had a thick section dyed a brassy, unnatural red, which offset the dull-blond section. Overall, her hair had been processed to the breaking point. Her breasts were high and close together, with deep vertical wrinkles between them; her ribs were visible. I tried to look past the heavy makeup slathered on her, but it was hard to see through that many layers.

Her husband had been killed earlier that day. She deserved some kindness. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine, I guess. It’s been really tough, but I’ll get the money soon then buy it back.”

We walked on for a few strides. Her answer soaked in, and it didn’t fit the question I’d asked. I stopped and blinked. “What?”

She stopped and blinked back as though we were in competition to see who was more confused. She gasped with dawning realization. “Oh that, I’m doing okay. I can’t believe I’m a widow.” Her tone was hard to place—was she sad or excited to be a widow?

But more than anything, I was curious about what she wanted to buy back. “What did you think I meant?”

Kandi twisted her hair into a bun and grabbed a hair stick out of her bag. Inserting the stick and tugging on the bun to check that it was secure, she continued, “I thought you were asking about me losing Kandi-covered. It’s not fair that it got sold to Westmound; it’s mine. I’m Kandi. I
am
Kandi-covered.”