Page 61 of The Kat Bunglar

“Obviously, why else have I been feeding you breadcrumbs all the way from Chicago? And honestly, you two are the slowest Hansel and Gretel I’ve ever come across—”

“Hold on now,” Laila interrupted, annoyed.

Kat ignored her, her voice turning pleading. “I am genuinely serious. Joseph Chevy is somehow involved with this Haitian Militia guy called Smoke. They’re meeting up this afternoon at the Port of Long Beach. Joseph needs to pay back a few debts. But something about Joseph just doesn’t add up.”

Laila shook her head, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “I’ve had enough of this mess. I need to lie down. You should be grateful we’re not taking this to the police and are instead leaving it with the insurance company.”

Kat’s eyes widened when she realized Laila was about to leave. “No, you can’t. Look, I am very sorry about what I’ve done. But this guy Joseph, he’s super shady. And if we don’t stop him, there’s no telling what he’s capable of. Also, my best friend is in love with him, and I think he’s a really bad influence.”

Gabriel interjected, “Worse than someone who robs people halfway across the country?”

Kat rolled her eyes. “Oh Em Gee, I said I was sorry. Engrave it on my headstone, why don’t ya?”

Laila looked between the two of them, her gaze flickering between Kat’s pleading expression and Gabriel’s stubborn one. “She’s right,” Laila said slowly.

Gabriel’s gaze softened when he looked at Laila. “Are you sure?”

Laila nodded. “What if they do this to someone else? What if it gets violent? If we can stop one person from getting hurt, then we should try. It’s the right thing to do.”

Gabriel sighed. He jerkily turned towards Kat with a scowl. “We’re going. But you better not pull anything else. If we’re doing this, we do it our way, understand?”

Kat nodded quickly, relief flooding through her. “Deal. We make sure Joseph gets arrested, Laila gets her stuff back, and we all walk away clean.”

Laila gave her a measured look. “You better hope so.”

There was a long pause before Gabriel stood, sliding out of the booth. “Let’s get it over with,” he muttered, his voice firm but heavy.

Laila followed suit, her movements slow and deliberate as if she was still recovering from the multiple shocks she had received, while Kat scrambled desperately behind them.

“You guys have a car, right? Because I’m more a passenger princess these days. And honestly, vehicle emissions are just terrible for the environment.”

July 20

Long Beach Port

Laila Malik

“Explain to me again how you and your friend are connected to the Haitian Militia,” Gabriel asked, putting on his aviator shades.

As Kat launched into the convoluted story, Laila studied her from the backseat. There was something undeniably compelling about Kat—scrappy, resourceful, and fearless in a way that only someone with nothing to lose could be. Laila recognized the type; she’d represented clients like her before. Despite herself, Laila didn’t hate her. It would’ve been so easy to pin her unraveling life on this impulsive, naïve girl, but maybe Kat had done her a favor. Maybe Kat had opened a window into a new life Laila hadn’t known she needed.

Kat held up a finger as she took a call. “Hal, we talked about this. You can’t just call me whenever you want.”

Placing the call on speaker, she mouthed to Gabriel and Laila, “My friend Hal,” as though that explained everything.

“Well, I’m about to close up shop for the day, missy, so before I place this anonymous tip to the police, I need to know a few details, like you know: Who? And what? And where?”

Kat blew out her breath in exasperation. “You’re so impatient. I’m tracking Christian now. They’re heading towards Long Beach Port, Terminal 10. Just let them know Smoke is going to be there collecting money after he blackmailed this guy named Joseph Chery. Joseph has about $60,000 worth of goods and maybe $18,000 cash on him.”

“Alright, I do think you owe me a coffee after all this, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh, bye,” Kat hung up on Hal as they entered the Port of Long Beach.

The air was thick with the smell of diesel, salt water, and exhaust. As the rail line whistled in the distance, the constant thrum of the engines vibrated through the ground beneath them. Massive cranes towered overhead, their long arms silhouetted against the hazy skyline, reaching down like giants preparing to unload the towering containers stacked along the docks. The labyrinth of cargo ships and containers stretched endlessly, their towering steel frames casting shadows over the docks. It was difficult to get a clear view of the sky. Laila tried to shake off the unease, but it clung to her like the oppressive exhaust around them. Her mind raced with possibilities—what if Kat had sent them into a trap? It wouldn’t be the first time they’d been outmaneuvered by this woman. The idea of walking into something bigger, something darker, hit Laila like a punch in the gut.

“Terminal 10 should be just over that way,” Kat whispered as she pointed to the left.

“Have you been here before? You seem awfully familiar with your surroundings,” Laila asked.

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