Page 124 of Himbo Hitman
I’m still not sure if I want to keep the phone, but the neon green rubber frog case with wacky eyes is a strong selling point.
Can’t get one of those for a decades-old flip phone.
I tap the social media app I installed earlier, and the account for Kandi Krisley pops up. Not that Kandi is an actual person. Icreated the account, added a hot photo from Google, and then added a whole list of people I went to school with before posting a bunch of nature and “your life, so live it” posts. The horoscope ones were a nod to Lars.
Not that he should have any right to my brilliant plan, but I really did like him too. My friends fur-ever shirt is feeling a whole lot less special today, that’s for sure.
Once I got Kandi’s account looking appealing, I tagged her at Rev last night, then sent Yanni a request. He accepted almost immediately, and I hit him with the killer punch: “hi.”
He’s been messaging Kandi all day, who thinks he’ssofunny, and he has thebestclub, and “noooo of COURSE premature balding is the new silver fox look. I LOVE it.”
Yanni has eaten up every message, and I really worry thatthisis the criminal mastermind after St. Clare and his brother, because Yanni? He has no self-awareness.
Again, that’s comingfrom me.
Another message finally comes through in response to my one from 9:55 saying that skipping the line out front feels braggy and rude to Kandi.
got a back entrance. meet me there and I’ll let you in
Bingo.
I’m smiling as I type out a reply to “please hurry it’s dark and scary,” then make my way across from the roof of the CVS to the overhang above his back exit. If it’s anyone other than Yanni who steps outside, I’ll let myself in while they look for Kandi, but if it’s Yanni—and I’m hoping it will be—I’ve got Judy ready in hand.
Maybe this guy likes his girls scared because it takes way too long for the heavy metal back door to ease open.
“Kandi?” a deep voice hisses. “You there?”
The man below steps out a bit further, and I finally catch an up-close glimpse of Yanni.
Sothisis the man who wants to hurt my St. Clare?
No matter how betrayed I feel right now, the urge to protect him has engrained itself in me, and as soon as Yanni turns his back to me, I drop down on the other side of the club door.
“Oy, Kandi? Quit messing around.”
He takes another shoe-scraping step against the cement, and once he’s clear of the door, I kick it closed with a shudderingbangand lift Judy to point right at him.
Yanni swings around, and surprise lights up his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Just call me Kandi.”
The surprise gives way to anger and maybe even confusion, but it’s hard to say in this dingy courtyard. “What the fuck is this? Did someone hire you? I’ve done nothing.”
There’s a lot to pick at there, so I ignore him instead. “We have a mutual friend.”
He sneers, and for a man who runs drugs through his club, he’s not bad-looking. He’s no St. Clare, and I’m not attracted to him, but all the photos of him with pretty girls wrapped around him make sense.
“Let me guess who,” he says, voice a rumble that sounds like he’s forcing it. “Kandi?”
“No. St. Clare.”
The surprise is back. “What the fuck do they want?”
“That’s what we were hoping you’d tell us. Why do you want him dead?”
“Dead?” Yanni lets out a chest-bouncing chuckle. “Not surprised someone wants that.”
“Not someone.You.” But he keeps on laughing, and I’m getting the feeling that maybemaybeI’ve missed the mark. “Ah … right?”
