Death at the Summit (3 page)

“No, bad, Moo,” Liam said from somewhere above me.

Moo made an anguished moan at the correction and threw himself on top of me; his pointy elbows digging into my stomach and one of his front paws scratching my arm.

I tentatively opened an eye to see that Liam had grabbed Moo by the collar to pull him off. “Come on. Off! Off! Moo, now.”

Moo resisted by flopping hard onto my chest, and a whoosh of air escaped my lungs. I reached up to pet him, and he finally moved to the ground next to me and gave me a lick from chin to hairline before racing off to grab a ball on the far side of the field.

“Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” Liam knelt beside me.

“I’m fine, just a bruised ego.”

I felt a bit disoriented, but when Liam grabbed both my hands and pulled me up, right into his arms, the feeling shifted. After a few moments, he dropped my hand, but the impression of his grip stayed.

He started wiping snow off my back and legs. “I’m sorry, Di. I tried to warn you. Moo thinks that snow on the ground means it’s okay to play rough. I only adopted him last spring, so I didn’t realize until now. Do you need to go to your room and lay down?”

I stretched my neck back and forth a few times. “No, I’m fine. I was surprised more than anything. I need to get back to the meeting.”

Liam trotted over to a bag on the ground, and I followed. “This is all of Moo’s stuff. Are you sure you’re okay dogsitting him?”

I laughed and reached back to wipe at some snow stuck under the back of my collar. “What’s a little mauling between friends?”

Liam whistled, and when Moo trotted over, he clipped a leash on Moo’s collar. “You might want to keep him on a leash when you are outside until I get him trained. Thanks! I need to head over to the hotel.”

He turned and headed toward his car. I suddenly remembered why I had been so eager to talk to him. “Hey, Liam.”

He turned around. I shouted across the distance as I closed it. “I just found out that you’re Elizabeth’s son. Did you
know
that I didn’t know?”

His clear laugh rang out across the parking lot as he smiled at me, the corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth. “Ya, I figured it out when you asked if I had known Mrs. Westmound long.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to see how long it would take to figure it out on your own, Ms. Detective. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He got into his truck and slowly exited the parking lot while Moo and I stood in the snow and waved.

Stepping back into the center, I changed out of my snow boots and wiped off the rest of the snow that was clinging to my arms, then I unclipped Moo, and we jogged down the hallway into the conference room. Tiger and Mouse were assembling bags with material on one table while Indy and Minx talked quietly, stuffing name tags into holders. Mary and Jess sat at another table, discussing a chart.

“Glad you could join us. Come over here so I can show you—what is wrong with your hair?” Jess said.

I patted my hair, finding a crusty spot where Moo had licked me. I did my best to flatten it, but when I was done, my hand smelled faintly of dog drool. I had missed some snow on the back of my legs, and it was melting through my pants to my skin. My back and neck ached a bit as the adrenaline wore off, but the prevailing sensation I noticed was my hand tingling from where Liam had helped me up. I rubbed the hand to remove the distraction.

“Moo and I had a little accident outside.”

Jess nodded then pointed at a diagram. “Everyone has their assignments already. Your work is easy. We will sit at the Westmound Center table at this side of the room and stay there. Mary will be with you most of the time and the rest of the volunteers when they don’t have an active assignment. I’m going to have meetings with anyone that is interested in setting up a workshop or camp at the center; you’ll keep a copy of the schedule at your table. I basically want you to be our headquarters. If someone needs something, you can provide it. Is that clear enough?”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” I gave her a formal salute, but she wasn’t looking at me. Mary snorted at my failed joke, and I stuck my tongue out at her.

Jess picked up a roll of tape and a stack of index cards with large numbers on them. “Come on. We need to go tape these markers on the range floor.”

Mary and I followed Jess across the hall to the large indoor archery range. It was the size of a football field and allowed archers to practice the outdoor distances year-round under ideal conditions: no rain, no wind, and no excuses.

Jess handed Mary and me each a stack of cards, a roll of flooring-safe tape, and a diagram.

The diagram covered the entire range.

“Are these all companies owned by Westmound?”

Mary said, “Yes,” right as Jess said, “No.”

After a chuckle, Jess clarified, “Yes, Westmound owns all these, but not all these labels are individual companies. For instance, Andersson Archery gets three spots: one for the competitive recurve bow line, one for the competitive compound line, and one for the hunting line of bows. Many of the larger companies will get several spots.”

I pushed an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “I can’t believe how big this summit is.”

Mary spun around from where she was taping down a label. Her face was shining with excitement. “If you think this is big, you should see the Outdoor Industry Trade Show next month. The OIT Show is huge. Over a hundred thousand people from all over the world attend. I want to go back so badly.”

Jess smiled smugly. “Robbie and I are going to the OIT show to represent the center, and we get to celebrate our anniversary while we are there.”

***

“We open in fifteen minutes! I needed you here much earlier.” Jess had been up long before us. She spotted us standing in the doorway and rushed over.

“You told us to come at this time.” I double-checked my phone. We had stayed up late last night watching TV in our room while I started reading the book Liam had given me.

Jess’s coffee breath tickled my nose. Her normally wild, curly hair was held back in a chignon, but out of habit she tucked a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear. “But you should have known I would need you earlier, regardless of what time we agreed on.”

Mary, Mouse, Indy, Minx, Tiger, Moo, and I had already grabbed breakfast together, and were ready to work, but after rooming with Jess for four years in college, being friends for over a decade, and working together for the past two months, I had to admit she was right. I should have predicted her last-minute freak-out. “You’re right, but we’re here now. What do you need?”

“Minx and Indy, can you put up these signs? Here’s a map—I noted where each sign goes. Tiger and Mouse, head over to check-in with Bruce. The buses from the hotel should be arriving any minute. Mary and Di, go to man the center’s table. Once your job is done, go to the center’s table so Di can send you out on your next job. Di, do you have the tablets?” Jess started to look more relaxed as she bossed us around.

“Yes, I grabbed them from my office this morning. The ones assigned to the ranges are there already. The rest will be with me.” I handed Jess her tablet. I had put together a system so each person in the system could hit a button indicating where they were, what they were doing or if they needed help. I hoped it would simplify communication between the center staff.

Mary and I headed to the far wall, where the seventy-meter target mats normally stood. I was awed by all the different exhibits. Most had colorful walls of advertising, many had set up their own cushioned flooring, and some even had tables and chairs.

Moo’s freedom was restricted today, with all the people and activity. He was in his harness with a leash, but I had put a Christmas sweatshirt over the top of it. The arms were chopped off to not interfere with his walking, and there was a hole for the leash to attach to the harness. I settled him onto his bed between the tables, in front of the huge Westmound Center display panel. He circled three times, lay down, and set to work trying to bite the harness. The nylon straps were just beyond the reach of his teeth, but that didn’t prevent him from trying over and over before flopping onto his other side and trying again. I reached over and scratched his ears until he settled in and fell asleep.

The room was filling with people moving to their tables. The opening speech was supposed to be soon, then we could start doing whatever it was we were supposed to do on range day of the Westmound Summit.

I turned to Mary. “Have you been to one of these before?”

Mary dragged her attention back to me, “Yeah. Two years ago, I went to write up articles for Westmound to send out to employees that were unable to attend the event. Last year, though, I couldn’t attend, and they hired Cold to film it instead.”

“What exactly happens today? I mean, I know that this is a brand summit for Westmound. They want consistency within the entire brand along with all the companies having a basic understanding of new products, but why have everyone come to one location? Couldn’t they just send out an e-mail?”

“It’s much more than that. They have a party, give out bonuses and awards for performance and general information, but that’s the next few days at the hotel conference. Today is range day: it is all about playing with the new products, networking, and shooting.”

I thought about it for a second, but it still felt like I was missing some angle. “So they all get together to shoot?”

Mary laughed. “I bet they would; people in this industry really love what they do. Let me give you a better example. Andersson Archery has a new entry-level competitive recurve bow. So someone from there might go over to Bucky Sights, Knight Products and Quaker Stabilizers and put together a solid entry level competition bow from all Westmound products. Then go to the short range that Bruce is running to see how it shoots. Then they can market it together as a ready-to-shoot setup.” Mary pointed to each company in turn. “Then at the OIT show next month, they can have literature available and push the full setup with a slight discount to archery pro-shops putting in orders. That’s just an archery example, but something similar is happening for handguns, shot guns, rifles,
et cetera
.”

“So one big happy family helping each other sell more products?” I asked.

“Basically. Didn’t they explain this is all the director meetings you attend every week?”

Jess had snuck up on us without me noticing. “Di basically sleeps through those.”

“I do not.”

“This is Di every meeting.” Jess stared off into the distance, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide and empty.

“Shut up. You’re such a pill.” I looked around for something to throw at her.

“Right, Liam? This is totally Di in the weekly meetings.”

I turned around to see Liam chuckling behind me at Jess’s impression. “Hey, you guys are supposed to be my friends and be on my side!”

Liam gave my shoulder a squeeze. “We are. Tablet?”

I handed him his tablet and smiled back.

Jess laughed. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Everyone knows that if they need something from you, they just need to get your attention and tell you exactly what they need then, bam! —like, two hours later, they’ll have it. Your daydreaming isn’t an issue because you’re so dang good at your job.”

Approaching from behind Liam was an athletic-looking, thirty-something, handsome black man. He had posture that radiated that he was in charge. He stopped as Liam asked us another question. “Has anyone seen Orion yet?”

The man behind Liam answered, “Everyone but you.”

Liam swung around and grabbed the man’s hand to shake before they hugged. They clapped each on the back repeatedly before breaking apart. Liam introduced Orion to everyone with, “This is Orion, the marketing director for Westmound and one of my oldest friends.”

With an easy smile, Orion said, “Easy with that ‘old’ business. I’m not getting older, only better.”

Orion greeted me with a handshake. “Di, it’s nice to meet the new computer expert,” he said before turning to shaking Mary’s hand with, “Nice to see you back at the Westmound Summit, Mary.” He moved down to Jess with a, “You’re doing a great job with the center’s archery program, Jess,” then he turned back to Liam. “I can see why you extended your sabbatical. You have a great facility and team here. We may never convince you to return to headquarters.”

Liam and Orion were so similar that it wasn’t surprising they were close friends. They were dressed not just in the same Westmound polo but jeans with a similar loose-cut, flat-bottom shoes and even slightly similar haircuts. Orion seemed to read all of Liam’s subtle nods with perfect accuracy. “Liam’s right; we need to get going.”

As they walked off in unison, they slowed down often to shake hands. Orion greeted everyone by name and asked after a spouse, child, or hobby.

“Oh crap, I forgot what I came over here for.” Jess pulled out a huge ring of keys. “Can you unlock the door over here then go unlock the bathrooms on this side of the range? Lock the rest of the doors, please. Here, Mary, can you hang this sign? Please, hurry. Liam and Orion are supposed to do the introduction any minute.”

Jess disappeared after putting the keys and a sign marked Bathroom on our table. I woke up Moo and dragged him along. I unlocked the door and propped it open while Mary affixed the sign. This door was kept locked because the last thing we needed was someone wandering into the range from behind the target.