Death at the Summit Read Online Free

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