Читать книгу Mischief 24/7 - Kasey Michaels, Кейси Майклс, Kasey Michaels - Страница 13

JADE’S RIGHT running shoe found a shallow, slushy puddle as she was forced to move to the edge of the trail by a quartet of joggers decked out in brand-new jogging gear and iPods, and carrying containers of take-out frou-frou coffees.

Joggerettes, Jade called them, not really here for the exercise, but just to see and be seen. The four women had fanned themselves out across the running trail of the east bank of the Schuyl-kill River, along historic Boathouse Row, paying more attention to the men jogging by in the opposite direction than on where they were going.

“Amateurs,” Jade muttered under her breath as, avoiding any more puddles, she redirected her attention to the asphalt. She touched her gloved right hand to her left wrist to check her pulse, and picked up her pace.

It was cold this morning, typical Philadelphia winter weather, but the sky seemed higher than it had when she first got to Fairmont Park, so chances were that the snow the TV weatherman had warned of earlier wouldn’t come.

She was good on time, her routine telling her that if she’d just passed the Vesper Rowing Club boathouse, she’d be able to get in at least most of her usual run before meeting Teddy at the diner to discuss how they were going to approach their latest insurance case.