Harmful Intent: A Veronica "Ronnie" Ingels/Dawson Hughes Novel by Nike N. Chillemi Page A

was just like the one in the lobby.
    As the saying went, it indeed was a small world. The seamstress from Cassidy's store sat in a perfect lotus position in the row ahead of us, her body arched to the side.
    Uma smiled benevolently. "Very good ladies. Now straighten your bodies and breathe out slowly."
    Cassidy's employee made a graceful sweeping motion with her arm and straightened up, seemingly without effort.
    "Ronnie, I can't get up." The words hissed and wheezed out of Bertha's mouth.
    I slid over to her. "Give me your hand."
    She did and I pulled her to a sitting position.
    Pink Hair stared at us, her eyes radiating contempt.
    The rest of the session went much like this, but somehow we managed to make it through.
    Uma thanked the class for their effort, placed her palms together in a praying position before her chest and bowed to us. When we finally picked up our yoga mats, Bertha's face was at least four shades brighter than the instructor's hair.
    The room emptied. Cassidy's seamstress was one of the first to leave, taking rapid, tiny steps on tiptoe. I wanted to talk to her and hoped we'd catch her in the changing room.
    Perhaps noticing my approach, Uma made a beeline for the door.
    I picked up my pace and stepped in front of her. "It's because Cassidy Renault thinks so highly of your class that we decided to give it a try."
    Technically, that was only a tiny stretch. Nellie had blurted out how Cassidy was friendly with the yoga instructor.
    "You don't say?" Uma's tone sounded incredulous.
    "Oh, absolutely, we figured any class Cassidy likes has to be terrific." I gave her my most sincere smile, the one I'd honed over the years in my profession, the one suggesting an offer of friendship.
    She didn't bite. In fact, she took a step backward and nearly collided with the tipping jar fountain. "Well, I certainly hope you found it of benefit."
    "Oh, I'm sure we did." I stepped toward her and she maneuvered to the side, avoiding Bertha by centimeters.
    Bertha smiled from ear to ear and nodded vigorously, but said nothing. The woman simply would not lie.
    Uma managed to slip around us, made her escape out the door, and bolted down the hall.
    I peered after her. "I can't be sure if mentioning Cassidy made Miss Pink Hair out of sorts or if it was because we ruined her class."
    Bertha snort-chuckled. "How about both?"
    As we entered the changing room, Cassidy's seamstress snatched up her belongings and launched herself toward the door.
    "Hello, didn't we see you in the yoga class?" I quickly approached her.
    She ducked her head and hurried past us. "Sorry, I'm in a rush to get back to work."
    "Jiminy, makes a gal feel like she's got leprosy or somethin'." Bertha shook her head.
    "That one looked determined not to speak to us. Maybe even afraid to."
    "She sure didn't want to be givin' us the time of day."
    "Bertha, do you recall the telephone message she gave to Cassidy while we were in the store? Makes me wonder if there's something there."
    "Oh, yeah, she came out from the back wavin' a pink phone message slip."
    "Exactly."
    I changed out of the tank top and yoga pants they'd given me. They didn't have yoga-wear in Bertha's size so she had donned the spa's sweat suit. In no time flat, she was out of that and back in street clothes.
    "Let's hot-foot-it to the great room and see who's hanging around." I headed out the door and down the hallway.
    On the way, we passed a gift shop so heavily incense scented, I nearly choked on the musk billowing out into the hall. We peered through the glass-shelved window display and then walked in. An assortment of desert-themed wind chimes hung from the ceiling, occasionally tinkling as air-conditioning currents moved them. A young woman in a peasant-style blouse and long skirt greeted us with a wide, loopy kind of smile. She stood behind a counter filled with gemstones and silver jewelry. Crystals in all shapes and sizes lined the store's shelves, along with Native American crafts, occult