Page 46 of The Kat Bunglar

Kat schooled her features into a slightly bored expression, even though excitement buzzed beneath her skin. She loved that brand—the founder, the story, everything about it. But she wasn’t about to let Janvi know how much it meant to her. Not yet.

“I’ll let you know.” With that, she turned and walked away with a smirk.

“Think about it, ‘#BengaliBesties.’ It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Janvi called after her.

As Kat stepped out of the café and into the hazy LA sun, she couldn’t help but wonder if partnering with Janvi might not be the worst idea in the world.

—

WALKING INTO HER APARTMENT, Kat felt a surge of accomplishment. She had set a goal, achieved it, and now the opportunities were flooding in. She surveyed the room, her smile vanishing as she realized the compression cube packs containing all of the stuff they had brought back from Chicago were gone.

Panicked, she screamed, “Christian! Christiaaannnnn! Where’s all our stuff? Where’s all my stuff?”

Christian, wearing a Pikachu onesie, yawned and opened the bedroom door. “Kat, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Kat brushed past her. “Where is Joseph? Where is he?”

“Chill, he went to the store. He’ll be back soon. Why are you hyperventilating?” Christian said, grabbing a breakfast smoothie from the mini-fridge.

“Christian, open your eyes. Our stuff is gone. Joseph is gone. Make it make sense!” Kat frantically searched under the sofa and coffee table, praying she might find a lost earring or brooch left behind.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation. Just relax,” Christian said, sitting on the couch.

“We did this together, Christian. You let a man come in and undermine the whole thing. Did Joseph give you amnesia during your amorous congress?” Kat’s voice trembled with fury.

Christian sputtered, “Amorous what? Where do you get these words? Look, I’ll call him.” Christian dialed, her voice unnaturally high. “Weird, the line’s disconnected. I’ll text him.” After a moment, she reported, “The text isn’t going through. Maybe he’s in a basement with no signal.”

Kat sank to the floor, head in hands. “We have to go to the police.”

Christian burst out laughing. “Are you out of your mind? If you tell the police, you’ll get yourself arrested. What, you think they’ll give you a reward for honesty?”

Kat shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe you’re defending him. You know Joseph did this.”

“No, he didn’t!” Christian shouted. “Keep my boyfriend’s name out of your mouth, Kat. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for what’s going on here. Let’s just wait for him to get home and see what he has to say for himself.”

Kat ground out a curse before stomping out and slamming the door behind her.

Men ruined everything—ecocide, femicide, and now friendocide.

She walked to the beach, the breeze caressing her face. Sitting on the sand, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

Christian’s words echoed in her head: “You think the police will reward you for honesty?”

The police might not, but Laila Malik might. Kat’s eyes flew open. Without hesitation, she called Laila. When Laila didn’t answer, Kat kept calling, determined.

“Hello, this is Laila Malik,” finally came the response.

Kat accidentally flicked sand toward her face, blinking and spitting out debris. “Hi, Mrs. Malik, um... You don’t know me, but I have information about what happened to you a few weeks ago. You got robbed, right?”

July 17

Chicago

Laila Malik

Laila clutched her trench coat lapels together, the blood draining from her head. “Who is this?” she demanded.

Gabriel looked at her questioningly. She put the phone on speaker and straightened her clothes. A young woman’s voice continued, “Look, it doesn’t matter who I am. The guy you’re looking for is Joseph Chery. He’s super slick and shady, he’s got my best friend wrapped around his—anyway. Your stuff is in LA. Come here. Find him.”

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