Death at the Trade Show: Target Practice Mysteries 3 (4 page)

Mary gasped, then her sleepy voice came through the darkness. “What? Oh. It’s... set.”

“Did I wake you already?” It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two since she turned off the light.

“It’s okay.”

The bed moved as she adjusted, but the cover didn’t shift with Moo weighing it down. His slow, deep breathing was relaxing. “Just one last question. What’s the OIT Show like?”

“It’s like the Westmound Summit but bigger.”

CHAPTER THREE

Describing the Outdoor Industry Trade Show as the Westmound Summit but bigger was like describing a dinosaur as a lizard but bigger. While technically an accurate statement, it did nothing to prepare me for the sheer immensity of the situation. Booths stretched across the room with rows and aisles between them all the way across the convention hall.

“These are all archery and gun people?” I stared in awe as I was jostled by people pushing past us on the trek deeper onto the trade show floor.

Mary grabbed my arm and dragged Moo and me out of the flow of people pushing through the entrance. “We’ll get run over standing like that. There are archery and firearms companies along with anyone involved with hunting or competitive shooting. So camouflage companies, off-road vehicles, optics like binoculars and spotting scopes.”

“I can’t believe they fill this entire place; it’s enormous.”

Mary dug around in her OIT Show bag and pulled out a map. “Not just this exhibit hall, but a few more. This is the main hall with all the biggest companies. Found Westmound. Follow me.”

We had arrived a few minutes after the show opened because of a breakfast meeting that ran late between Westmound and Beckmans. Mary, Moo, and I had breakfast burritos in the car while playing with all the buttons and talking with Jack in the front seat. When we arrived, everyone in the car had scattered. They were late for a variety of meetings.

Moo wore the backpack I had given him for Christmas with his OIT SHOW STAFF T-shirt pinned to it. He had a collapsible water bowl, doggy bags, and a toy stored in the pockets. I had tried to put treats in there, too, but after five minutes of him circling, lips extended, trying to reach his backpack and the goodies within, I removed the treats and stuck them in my own bag.

We trotted to catch up with Mary as her shorter legs moved at a brisk pace ahead of us. I kept my eyes on the back of her head with her smooth black bob swinging left and right in time with her pace. My eyes kept slipping to the left to look at the vendors we passed: a camouflage vendor with everything from hunting gear to lingerie, compound bows of every variety, and up ahead, towering over the surrounding structures and almost touching the ceiling, was what appeared to be a solid-white creature.

It stood on two thick legs while the arms were raised on either side of its head. The white foam surface was formed to resemble thick fur. Its mouth was open to reveal teeth, and red eyes stared ahead. On the ends of its fingers were black claws. It was humanoid but definitely not human, like the abominable snowman.

As we approached the white creature, Mary swung left to turn down the aisle. The crowds had winnowed down to a scattering of people, most having turned down earlier aisles. Moo stopped dead and pulled back on the leash. His tail was tucked beneath his legs, and his head was hung low.

“What’s wrong, Moo?” I followed his eyes to the white creature towering overhead. Surrounding it were foam 3-D animals, intended to be shot by archers in competitive tournaments. There were deer, elk, bear, and every animal you could imagine from this planet, including long-extinct dinosaurs or mythical creatures.

“I don’t think your dog likes Karma,” a man’s voice interrupted my ogling. He approached from the booth. “Hi, I’m Mike, tournament director of the Red Bluff Safari, the largest and most successful 3-D tournaments in the world. And this is Karma the yeti.” He gestured to the white creature then extended his hand in greeting.

I tried to step forward, but Moo doubled down his effort to back away from Karma.

Mike closed the distance to shake my hand then turned to Mary. “You’ve shot our tournament before, right?”

Mary smiled. “Yes, I came with my dad a few years ago and wrote an article. We had a great time.”

“We gonna get you back this year? You can even bring the dog.” He held out a hand in Moo’s direction, offering it to him to sniff, but Moo was focused on Karma; the hair on his scruff stood straight on end.

Mary stepped over to Moo and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “Maybe. We’ll see.” She turned to me. “The Red Bluff Safari is a great shoot. It’s in Northern California, north of Sacramento. Karma is a one-of-a-kind target. How’d you get her in here?”

Mike sucked air through his teeth and shook his head. “The old model was worn out, so the manufacturers brought her here to the show then will put it on a flat bed and take her out to California. I have to tell you, though, getting her set up in here was an ordeal. Taking her down will be a hope and a prayer.”

Mary checked her watch. “Good to see you, Mike, but we’re way late. See you later.” She grabbed my arm and steered a wide path around Karma as we waved good-bye.

We continued down the aisle until there was a break for people to move across the floor perpendicular to the aisle. We looked both ways and jetted across the walkway. There was the Westmound booth, and across the aisle was Andersson Archery. Both companies took up the space from one aisle to the next and from the walkway to the far wall. Looking through the displays, I could see more Westmound companies on the far sides.

“Wow, is this whole area just companies owned by Westmound?”

Mary stood on tiptoe, looking around for someone. “Pretty much. There she is.”

I tried to follow Mary as she bobbed and weaved her way through the booth. Moo wanted to sniff everything as we proceeded to catch up with Mary, who was hugging an older blond lady.

“So good to see you, Mary. And you must be Di. I’m Connie.” She stepped away from Mary and toward me with her arms outstretched.

“Connie! Thrilled to meet you.” I wrapped her in a hug. Connie was Elizabeth’s executive assistant, and her husband worked for Andersson Archery. They had flown in a day or two early and had their own room and car. I had emailed and spoken to her many times. I broke apart from the hug. “I can’t believe we have never met in person.”

“I know. Let me show you your table. I already put out the literature Jess sent. Poor thing. Are she and Robbie feeling any better?” She wove her way to a corner of the Westmound booth, where a table stood diagonally in the corner, the aisle on one side and the pathway on the other.

I shook my head when I caught up. “I don’t think so. I haven’t heard from Jess today. Hopefully they’re sleeping it off. This is our table?”

She nodded. “Do you need bottled water? Fruit? Granola bars? We have everything you could need in the meeting rooms.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward the interior of the booth. There were three doors in a wall that ran along the back of the booth.

“These booths have meeting rooms? It is a far cry from what I was expecting.”

“Nicer than my first apartment. If you’re all set, I’m going to go catch up with Elizabeth.”

Mary pulled one of the chairs out from behind the table and sat. “We’re good. Thanks, Connie.”

I tried to settle Moo in behind the table then pulled out a chair to sit down. “So what do we do now?”

***

By the time lunch rolled around a few hours later, I knew exactly what we were going to do: we were going to be bored out of our minds. People mostly rushed past our tables. The booths around us were packed with people, but everyone was busy doing business. The cell reception in the exhibit hall was non-existent. When Liam and Orion came to the table, I could’ve cried with relief.

Liam held aloft a white paper bag. “Food’s here.”

We scrambled to grab our stuff and follow Liam and Orion as they ducked into a room to pass a bag to Elizabeth and Connie then opened another door for us. The room had a few chairs and thin walls made from a white material.

Orion started unpacking his bag of food. “Jack picked up some salads and sandwiches for us.”

Moo sniffed at the table and lunged for a roast beef sandwich, but Liam swiftly lifted it out of Moo’s reach. “No. Lie down.”

Moo squinted at Liam then, with a huff, circled three times clockwise then once counterclockwise and flopped down.

I reached over and grabbed the roast beef sandwich from Liam’s raised hand. “Can I have this?”

Liam nodded and continued to pull out condiments, napkins, and an assortment of sandwiches from his bag. Orion pulled out four different salads.

Mary snatched a salad and a sandwich. “Think you got enough food?”

Orion smiled at her while sliding over plastic utensils. “Gotta keep everyone happy. How was your morning? Talk to many people?”

I leaned back in my seat, smiling as I bit into my sandwich.

Mary giggled and pulled a notebook out of her messenger bag and flipped to a tally sheet we had kept. “Let me tell you about our morning. One person signed up for the mailing list that Jess is starting. We pointed thirty-two people to the bathroom. Twenty-five people commented, ‘What a big dog’ versus sixteen that asked if he has a saddle. And lastly, four people hit on Di.”

I gasped then coughed on my mouthful of roast beef sandwich. I covered my mouth but lost my grip on the sandwich, bits of roast beef and fixings falling across the table. Finally, I caught my breath. “We weren’t tracking who hit on me.”

“You weren’t, but I was.”

Orion laughed. “How many hit on Mary?”

She looked at him, a blush creeping up her neck. “No one hit on me.” She cast her eyes down at her salad, which she speared with intensity.

Turnaround was fair play. “You were hit on,” I said.

“Ewww. That guy who asked if I would walk on his back was gross.”

I shook my head. “That was gross, but I meant the young blond guy who came to the table after we took Moo outside. He said that he runs the youth archery program at his shop, and they use videos of you shooting to help his students develop better form. He definitely has eyes for you.”

The blush burst across her cheeks, and she smiled. “Oh yeah, him.”

Liam grabbed a napkin and wiped up the debris from my sandwich. Then he passed me a clean napkin. “We’ll move your table. We didn’t bring you to the show to tell people where the bathrooms are or get hit on.”

Moo moaned on the ground, licking his lips. I got up and took off his backpack, unloaded his collapsible water bowl, and filled it with bottled water off the table. Then I dug into my bag and got out a few treats.

Once he was settled in, I continued on my sandwich. “How was your morning? Did you buy new companies or move a lot of units or whatever it is you guys are doing?”

Orion grabbed a few sodas from a cooler in the corner and brought them back to the table. “Don’t you work with Liam? Shouldn’t you know his job by now?”

“Based on what I see at the center, Liam’s job is to play around with guns all day.”

Orion snorted, covered his mouth, and started coughing. “Dang, don’t say stuff like that when I’m trying to take a drink.”

Liam smiled at me. “Hardy har har. I do more than play around with guns all day.”

“But seriously, I know that both of you, along with Elizabeth, like, oversee all the Westmound companies or something like that. So what exactly do you do at this trade show?”

Liam and Orion exchanged a look. They must have communicated something, because they both turned back to me, and Orion fell into the easy tone of a story that had been told a million times. “After Mr. Westmound and Mr. Andersson passed a decade ago, Elizabeth Andersson formed a new company, Westmound-Andersson Industries, which owns Westmound, Andersson, and all the other companies, such as Knight Accessories, MacSights, Quaker Stabilizers, et cetera.”

“Wait, I thought Westmound owned all the other companies.”

Orion shook his head. “That is a very common misconception. Technically all the companies are owned by the parent company, Westmound-Andersson Industries, but no one really knows or cares except our accountants. It’s too confusing to bother being picky about. The important part is that people know that Elizabeth Andersson is in charge, regardless of the name on the business card.”

I nodded my head. “We all say Westmound, but really you both work for Westmound-Andersson Industries?”

Liam grabbed a second water bottle and twisted off the top. “You got it.”

“Great, but that doesn’t answer the original question.”

Orion sat up in his chair. “Oh! That’s right. I knew I was heading somewhere. Since we oversee all the companies, our job is a bit different here. We sit in on meetings with major distributors, like the Beckmans meeting this morning, to give it a bit more weight. We will walk the floor to see what products are selling, what the competitors are doing, and general industry trends. We are also meeting with some companies that are looking to be bought out by us.”

Mary unwrapped a sandwich. “People
want
to be bought out?”

“Oh yeah, there’s a lot of reasons people want to sell their company. They want to retire. They have plateaued and need more capital to expand. They want the money. They’re about to go under.”