While Josie relived last night’s clown-terror glory, Riley had spent a lot of time thinking that this wasn’t necessarily such a bad outcome.
The knock at her window startled them both.
“Jeez, Jas! You scared the hell out of us,” Riley said, rolling down her window.
“Speak for yourself.” Josie pocketed the tiny-but-deadly blade she’d pulled.
Jasmine looked like a sexy femme fatale dressed in head-to-toe black. She also looked smug. “Lemme in.”
“Did you bring snacks?” Josie demanded.
“Of course I brought snacks,” Jasmine said, sliding into the back seat when Riley unlocked the door. “I also brought Lance Rhinehard’s home address.”
“Who’s Lance Rhinehard, and what kind of snacks?” Josie asked.
Jasmine tossed a bag of goodies into Josie’s lap.
“Lance is the deranged bully torturing the entire Sheepford Junior/Senior High School, including our ‘primo’ client, Mrs. Penny’s great-aunt’s bridge partner or something like that,” Riley explained.
Josie ripped open a pack of Jelly Krimpets.
“I say we drive over there and do some reconnaissance. You know, get in the stupid twerp’s evil little brain. See if we can find a way to bring him down,” Jasmine said.
“He called us old,” Riley explained to Josie.
“What size body bag do we need? I’m fresh out of larges,” Josie responded around a mouthful of Krimpet.
“We’re not plotting to murder a teenage boy. No matter how horrible of a person he is,” Riley insisted in her best Voice of Reason tone.
“Relax, Ry. We’ll just go on over there, spy on the little turd, and brainstorm ways to get him out of Kory’s life.”
“I vote yes,” Josie said. “It beats sitting around waiting for Mega Rack to come back.”
“Fine. But we’renotdoing anything illegal,” Riley insisted. “I’ve been personally warned by the police today against getting into trouble.”
“That was the Harrisburg cops. We’re in Camp Hill,” Josie pointed out.
* * *
Lance’s housewas a large white house on a fenced-in corner lot in Floribunda Heights. It was close enough to Nick’s parents’ house that Riley worried she’d break out in hives.
“I have it on good authority that Lance’s parents are at some faculty fundraiser to get all the teachers therapy or something,” Jasmine said.
“How do you get your information?” Josie asked, sounding impressed.
“I bribed one of the school’s admin assistants. He was into feet, so I let him take pictures of mine in exchange for Lance’s student record, his parents’ pay stubs, and all the hot gossip in the district,” Jasmine explained.
“I worry about you sometimes,” Riley told her friend.
“I’m impressed,” Josie said.
“I have a bad feeling about tonight,” Riley muttered to no one.
They circled the block twice before parking in front of a brick bungalow across the street.
“Gee, I think I know which room is his,” Jasmine observed dryly.
Instead of curtains, the window in the front right corner of the second floor was covered with a bedsheet with the wordsSuck Mypainted above an amateurish rendering of a cartoon penis.
