Death on the Range: Target Practice Mysteries 1 Read Free Page A

doggie toy and matching blanket for only three dollars more). More often than not he sprawled across the bed with most of his body off the bed or all four feet in the air as he squirmed across the surface. I still hadn’t met his owner but I had come to think of Moo as mine—a warm, calming creature to share my work-day with. He felt like an ally while I met the various department heads.
    I kept the center’s personnel webpage open throughout the meetings so I could start to learn the staff’s names. I had met almost everyone there except for the most interesting one, Liam Andersson. Unlike the rest of the pictures, which consisted of headshots with a professional blue background, Liam’s was an outside shot of him firing a gun. He leaned forward toward the target, a cloud of dust around his body while he squinted into the sun. His hair was clipped short on the side but longer on top, and he had a full beard. He looked like something out of a video game, or a Viking brought back to life.
    His job description said “Equipment,” which didn’t make much sense as a job description. I hadn’t spotted him in the halls or cafeteria, but I had mixed feelings about meeting him. The mystery of a hypothetical man was enticing since I was in no place to deal with a real man, at least not romantically.
    Mary ran into my office, wiped a layer of dog hair off the plastic seat, collapsed into the chair, then pulled it to my desk. “Oh my goodness, I have so much to tell you.”
    I didn’t bother to hide my smile as I swiveled to turn to her. Last night she drove to Denver to pick up the Summer Games athletes who were arriving for the coaching course that started in twenty minutes. I went to sleep before she returned, and when I left this morning Mary was still sleeping.
    “So much drama about the new coaches’ course. The four Summer Games archers that flew in are not happy about being here, and there is all this tension between them. The drive back was so weird.”
    Mary loved to gossip, and I didn’t complain. Whenever she wanted to ask about my life, a topic I did not want to discuss, I could distract her by asking about other people. “Tell me.” I knew she didn’t need much encouragement, and I was right, as she launched into her story.
    “I picked the four of them up at the airport, and the girls, Minx, Owley, and Honey, are all sitting at least fifteen feet apart.”
    “Their names are ridiculous; at least Allie is a normal name.”
    “Not Allie. Owley, like an owl? Anyways, we get the luggage into the van, and Tiger hops into the first bench seat, and Minx crawls in next to him. Owley says she needs to sit there because she gets car sick, but Honey suggests that if Owley gets car sick, she should sit up front with me, not next to Tiger. They all just stand there snipping at each other about where everyone was going to sit. A cop had to come over and yell at us to move. Minx yelled at Owley and Honey to stop acting like babies and crawled into the front seat next to me. Owley got in next to Tiger, and Honey went into the row behind them.”
    I sucked air in through my teeth, surprised. This could make for a more exciting coaches’ course. Drama can be fun to watch when you aren’t part of it. “Yikes, are they always like that?”
    “I have no idea.” Mary burst into a huge smile. “I’ve never spent much time around them in private, just at tournaments. I had no idea they fought like this when they were alone.”
    Mary lightly bounced in her seat. She reminded me of the saying, if you don’t have anything nice to say, then come sit by me. We had started to bond over our shared love of mocking reality stars on TV.
    “Were there just the”—I stopped to count in my head—“four of them? Didn’t we send six archers to the Summer Games?”
    “Yes, only four of the six archers came to coach’s training, and they were not happy about it. Minx complained it was stupid that after attending the Summer Games