Trouble in the Tarot by Kari Lee Townsend

the latest yoga athletic wear, headband and all, looking picture-perfect in every way. She was walking on a treadmill that sat right beside the one Captain Walker was on.
    They were chatting and smiling, and she kept throwing her head back, making her earrings twinkle like the constellations in my sanctuary, and patting her chest repeatedly. If I had a figure like hers at that age, I’d probably draw attention to it, too, I had to admit. I shook off my thoughts as I remembered the issue at hand.
    “Oh, brother. This is not good.” I was about to turn around to intercept Granny from the locker room, but I was too late.
    She’d already slipped out, and I could tell by her expression that she had just spotted the twittering twosome. I’d never seen her pump her arms that fast as she hoisted her head high and marched over to hop onto the treadmill on the other side of the captain, wearing…
    “Good Lord, where did she get that outfit?” I sputtered.
    Apparently she’d found more of Vicky’s old curtains and had made herself her own version of yoga pants, but they looked more like floral bell bottoms from the seventies, with a matching bandanna instead of her standard plastic rain cap. She was moving like she had dance fever, all right, or ants in her pants. If she didn’t stop all that gyrating, she was going to need more than a pair of Depends.
    “She’s a cheeky lass, I’ll give her that. Now I know where you get your spunk from.” Sean chuckled, crossing his arms and cocking his head as though settling in to enjoy the show.
    The captain’s smile slipped a bit and a wary expression took its place as he looked from one woman to the next and then up to Sean and I. His eyes were wide like he was caught in the middle of a horror flick with a skip in the DVD as the terrifying scene playing out before him repeated itself over and over and over.
    Granny now chattered as much as Fiona, both obviously trying to outdo one another. And the speed of the treadmills kept increasing until both women were holding on tight to the rails and now running with everything on them jiggling in the breeze.
    “Sean, do something before one of them breaks a hip,” I said, then added half under my breath, “or scares everyone into therapy.”
    “Looks like Wally already beat me to it.”
    Wally was the owner of Wally’s World gym and a massive man. Six feet eight inches of creamy milk chocolate and not a speck of hair on his big beautiful body.His wide smile and blazing white teeth were in full effect as he hoisted Granny under one arm and Fiona under the other as if they were as light as a couple of lumpy pillows. They quieted instantly, staring up in awe at his exotic features.
    Wally’s smile actually broadened.
    Stopping in front of Sean and I, he gently set the women on their feet. “Why don’t you try something more your speed, ladies? Wouldn’t want such precious cargo getting hurt on one of my machines. Yoga room’s that way.” He patted both of them on their bottoms.
    Fiona let out a kitty-cat meow, and Granny fluttered her lashes, which looked longer than they had this morning, like she’d slapped on a pair of falsies. When her feather-duster eyelashes stopped fluttering, one was suspiciously crooked.
    Good Lord.
    “I think we’re done, Granny,” I said. “Let’s go.”
    “I think you’re right,” Granny responded, fanning herself. “Land sakes, that was quite the workout. We’ve got to get to the carnival. There’s so much to do before the bakeoff.”
    “You’re not going to win. You heard how much the captain likes Bernadette’s apple turnovers,” Fiona pointed out smugly. “And she wins every year.”
    “Bernadette’s turnovers don’t hold a candle to my cookies. Ask her yourself. She’s been trying to get my secret ingredient out of me since the day I arrived, yet she never shares her recipe with anyone. Not even her staff.”
    “Well, you’ve never tasted my lemon meringue pie.”
    “Thank