Dangerous Bond (Jamie Bond Mysteries Book 4) by Gemma Halliday, Jennifer Fischetto Page A

asked a tinny voice. The juicetender wore the same uniform as the receptionist. She was brunette, tall, and slender, and had thigh muscles that looked like they could break a walnut.
    Caleigh stepped forward. "The woman up front said we could watch the class. We're thinking of joining."
    The juicetender clapped her hands together. "That's awesome. Would you like a juicetail? Everything is organic and fresh. I promise you'll love it."
    "Absolutely," Caleigh said.
    Their personal dictionary was starting to give me a headache, so I just smiled my acceptance.
    The juicetender went about filling a blender with fresh-cut pineapple, two giant handfuls of kale, some liquid concoction that came from a plastic container, some freshly squeezed orange juice, and exactly four ice cubes. Several whizzes later, she set two dull pea-green glasses before us. They each received a long, bendy straw and a chunk of skewed pineapple.
    I was hesitant to try it, but the juicetender looked like she eagerly awaited our approval, so I sipped. Surprisingly it was delicious. It tasted just like a pineapple-orange smoothie—sweet, thick, and luscious. When Caleigh and I smiled and nodded, the juicetender clapped. She was so proud.
    Caleigh and I sat at one of the bistro-style tables and faced the pool. "I may have to join here," Caleigh said. I knew she frequently looked for interesting ways to stay active, but they usually involved a room full of sweaty, muscled men. This place definitely had a more feminine vibe. Maybe it was the lack of weight lifting machines.
    We sipped our drinks and watched the women perform in perfect synchronization. I leaned back on my high-backed stool and relaxed, feeling the tension of the night before slowly slip away. What was that mystery ingredient in the container? That juicetender was a magician.
    Eventually the women climbed out of the pool and grabbed towels to dry off. That was when I realized that one of the participants was a man with a low ponytail. Oops, my bad for thinking they were all women.
    They entered the juice bar, all seemingly eager to get a glass of their daily nutrients and antioxidants.
    Jenny received her drink first. When she turned away from the bar, Caleigh waved her over. Right before she reached us, Caleigh whispered, "She's cute."
    Caleigh was right. Jenny was short and slightly round around the waist and hip area, but there was something in the way she walked that reminded me of Mrs. Henderson. No wonder the Hendersons had added Jenny to their list.
    She wore a lime-green bathing suit with a pink towel wrapped around her waist, and yellow flip-flops. She approached our table with excitement, as if we were long-lost friends meeting for lunch.
    As she sat down, she held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Jenny. Did you want to see me?"
    Caleigh and I each shook her hand. She came off as so trusting—which struck me as extremely odd. I couldn't imagine that in this world today. Though, there was a possibility that following cheating spouses and nabbing the occasional murderer had helped shape my worldview.
    "I'm Jamie, and this is Caleigh. We heard about this place from friends, so we came by to check it out. You looked so natural in the pool. You must've been coming here for ages. We're hoping you can fill us in on this place."
    Her baby blues lit up. "Of course. I've only been here for a couple of months, but the routine is so simple that anyone can do it."
    I glanced to Caleigh. "That's what Linda and Jeffrey Henderson said too."
    Jenny frowned for a moment. "You know the Hendersons? I've never seen them here."
    I faked surprise by placing a hand to my chest and clutching my invisible pearls. "You know them too?"
    "Yes, I met them at a charity benefit for children with special needs. It was a few weeks ago. Charming event and a lovely couple. They seem quite in love."
    "Yes, they are," I said, and I thought, if only you knew .
    We spent another thirty minutes trying to squeeze personal information out