Razor Girl (Andrew Yancy Series #2)

Razor Girl (Andrew Yancy Series #2)

by Carl Hiaasen

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A lovable con woman and a disgraced detective team up to find a redneck reality TV star in this raucous and razor-sharp new novel from Carl Hiaasen, the bestselling author of Bad Monkey

Merry Mansfield, the eponymous Razor Girl, specializes in kidnapping for the mob. Her preferred method is rear-ending her targets and asking them for a ride. Her latest mark is Martin Trebeaux, owner of a private beach renourishment company who has delivered substandard sand to a mob hotel. But there's just one problem: Razor Girl hits the wrong guy. Instead, she ends up with Lane Coolman, talent manager for Buck Nance, the star of a reality TV show about a family of Cajun rooster farmers. Buck Nance, left to perform standup at a Key West bar without his handler, makes enough off-color jokes to incite a brawl, then flees for his life and vanishes. 

Now a routine promotional appearance has become a missing persons case. And Andrew Yancy, disgraced detective-turned-health inspector, is on the job. That the Razor Girl may be the key to Yancy's future will be as surprising to him as anything else he encounters along the way—including the giant Gambian pouched rats that are haunting his restaurant inspections.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780385349758
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Publication date: 09/06/2016
Series: Andrew Yancy Series , #2
Sold by: Random House
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 352
Sales rank: 6,223
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

CARL HIAASEN was born and raised in Florida. He is the author of thirteen previous novels, including the best sellers Bad Monkey, Star Island, Nature Girl, Skinny Dip, Sick Puppy, and Lucky You, and five best-selling children’s books, Hoot, Flush, Scat, Chomp, and Skink. His most recent work of nonfiction is Dance of the Reptiles, a collection of his columns from The Miami Herald.



Tavernier, Florida

Place of Birth:

South Florida


Emory University; B.A., University of Florida, 1974

Read an Excerpt


On the first day of February, sunny but cold as a frog’s balls, a man named Lane Coolman stepped off a flight at Miami International, rented a mainstream Buick and headed south to meet a man in Key West. He nearly made it.

Twenty-seven miles from Coolman’s destination, an old green Firebird bashed his car from behind. The impact failed to trigger the Buick’s airbags, but Coolman heard the rear bumper dragging. He steered off the highway and dialed 911. In the mirror he saw the Firebird, its grille crimped and steaming, pull onto the shoulder. Ahead stood a sign that read: “Ramrod Key.”

Coolman went to check on the other driver, a woman in her mid-thirties with red hair.

“Super-duper sorry,” she said.

“What the hell happened?”

“Just a nick. Barely bleeding.” She held her phone in one hand and a disposable razor in the other.

“Are you out of your mind?” said Coolman.

The driver’s jeans and panties were bunched around her knees. She’d been shaving herself when she smashed Coolman’s rental car.

“I got a date,” she explained.

“You couldn’t take care of that at home?”

“No way! My husband would get so pissed.”

“Unreal,” said Coolman.

The woman was wearing a maroon fleece jacket and rhinestone flip-flops. On her pale thigh was the razor mark.

“How about a little privacy?” she said. “I’m not quite done here.”

Coolman walked back to the Buick and called the man he was supposed to meet in Key West. “I’ll be a few minutes late. You’re not gonna believe what just happened,” he said on the man’s voicemail, leaving it at that.

The cops arrived and wrote up the red-haired pube shaver for careless driving. Naturally, she had no collision insurance; that would be Avis’s problem, not Lane Coolman’s. A tow truck hauled away the Firebird, which needed a new front end including a radiator. The woman approached Coolman and asked for a ride.

“Tell your ‘date’ to come get you,” he said. One of the police officers had pried the damaged bumper from the Buick, and Coolman was trying to fit it into the backseat.

“He doesn’t have a car,” said the woman, who’d buttoned her jeans. She was attractive in a loose and scattered way. Coolman had a weakness for redheads.

“See, I work for an escort service. We go to where the client’s at,” she said.

“Yes, I understand the concept.”

The woman’s fleece was unzipped and beneath it she wore a black sequined top. Her toes must be freezing in those flip-flops, Coolman thought; the temperature was 55 degrees with a biting north wind, arctic conditions for the Florida Keys.

“My name’s Merry,” she said, “spelled like Merry Christmas.”

“My name’s Bob,” said Coolman, “spelled like Bob.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me a lift?”

“Why not,” Coolman said, the worst mistake he would ever make.

At Mile Marker 22, Merry told him her last name was Mansfield, like the bombshell actress of the Fifties. Coolman stopped at a Circle K where he got a cup of coffee and Merry bought three eight-hour energy drinks, chugging the little purple bottles one after the other.

“You running a marathon?” Coolman asked.

“I’m all about performance.”

At Mile Marker 17, she told him she didn’t really work for an escort service.

“Wild guess—you’re a dancer,” he said.

“On my own time,” she replied. “Not one of those.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“Why didn’t you just say stripper? The games you guys play, I swear.” Her eyelashes were a paler shade of red than her hair.

Coolman said, “Why would you make up a lie about being an escort?”

“ ’Cause I needed a ride, Bob. If I said I was an artifacts appraiser you would’ve left me standing in the road.”

“What is it you appraise?”

“Sunken treasure. Doubloons and cannonballs and so forth. Business is slow right now. I’m an expert on eighteenth-century Spanish maritime.”

“Do you have a real date, or did you make up that part, too?”

Merry laughed. “He’s an Air Force pilot based at Boca Chica. Why else would I be doin’ my trim at sixty-five miles per hour?”

At Mile Marker 8, she blurted, “Did I say Air Force? I meant Navy.” She was buzzing like a flagpole in a lightning storm. “His name’s Rocky.”

“What about your husband?”

“He’s a Rocky, too.”

“Stop,” said Coolman.

“Don’t be judging me. I go for men with strong names.”

The closer they got to Key West, the more Southern her accent became. Coolman was foolishly intrigued.

“What about you?” she said. “What’s your field, Bob? Your expertise.”

“I’m in the entertainment business. I manage talent.”

“Your own, or somebody else’s?”

“Ever seen the show Bayou Brethren?” Coolman asked.

“Little Rocky watches it all the time.”

“That’s your son? Little Rocky?”

“No, it’s what I call my husband. Don’t make me spell out why.”

“Anyway, I manage Buck. You know—the family patriarch? Buck Nance.”

“No shit?”

“Leader of the clan,” said Coolman.

“Yeah, Bob, I know what a fucking patriarch is.”

The show was taped in the Florida Panhandle at a swampy location that somewhat resembled a Louisiana bayou. Buck Nance and his brothers were actually from Wisconsin, but the network paid for a Cajun dialogue coach.

Merry said, “So what brings you all the way down here?”

“Buck has a personal appearance.”


“Parched Pirate.”

“Doing what?”

“Just being Buck.”

Coolman hoped the guitar player had found the bar. Buck Nance had trouble speaking in public unless he was accompanied by a live musician. For his road gigs the writers at the network had come up with eight or nine amusing redneck stories, what you might call a monologue, and afterward Buck would take questions for ten minutes or so. The questions were printed on index cards distributed in advance to random fuckwits in the crowd.

Coolman offered to take Merry to the show. “We’ll hang backstage,” he added. Like there was a backstage.

“What about my date?” she asked.

“Bail,” Coolman said. “Tell him the truth—you had car trouble.”

“But then I shaved down there for no reason.”

“Not necessarily.”

The redhead smiled and shook her head. “For the Zac Brown Band I’d ditch my Navy boy in a heartbeat, but not for some yahoo from the bayou.”

“It’s only the top-rated cable program in the whole country.”

“I prefer the nature channels. You know—penguins and cheetahs. Shit like that.”

“Buck converted his Bentley to an ATV with rifle racks.”

“Why would a grown man do something so ridiculous?”

“America worships the guy. You should come hear him tonight.”

“Another time,” said Merry.

At Mile Marker 5, she made a call on her cell phone. All she said was, “Don’t wet yourself, sugar. I’m almost there.”

At Mile Marker 4, after they’d crossed the bridge into Key West, she flipped open the visor mirror and checked her makeup. Freshened her lipstick. Brushed her hair.

“You look terrific,” said Coolman.

“Damn right, Bob.”

At Mile Marker 3, she exclaimed, “Okay, pull in here!”

It was a small shopping center with a Sears as the high point. Merry directed Coolman where to park. He was surprised when a white Tesla rolled up beside them.

“That’s your boyfriend?” Coolman knew a couple of CAA agents back in L.A. who drove jet-black Teslas. The white model looked pretty sweet. Coolman himself leased a corpuscle-red Mercedes SLK 350 that required no electric outlet.

“I thought you said he didn’t have wheels.”

Merry shrugged. “Must be a loaner.”

The young man who got out of the Tesla was wearing a leather bomber jacket. If not for the gold earring and oily long hair he could have been a Navy pilot.

“It was nice meeting you,” Coolman said to the redhead.

“Oh, you’re coming with.”

“Me? What for?”

The man in the bomber jacket yanked open Coolman’s door and put a pistol to his neck.

“Let’s go, dipshit.”

“Just take my wallet,” Coolman said, breathless. “The Rolex, too, whatever you want.”

“You’re adorable, Bob,” the woman whispered. “Now get out of the fucking car.”

Customer Reviews

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Razor Girl: A novel 4.4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 18 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Love Carl Hiassen's books and if it was up to me, he would be forced to write 24/7. "Razor Girl" brings back disgraced former cop, now restaurant inspector Andrew Yancy from "Bad Monkey". Still trying to get his badge back, Yancy once again finds himself in the middle of a twisted scenario that could only come from Hiassen's insanely entertaining mind. Fantastically funny, as always!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
So funny I couldn't put it down, even during the event 7th game of the World Series!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Fun read. Lots of characters
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Like his other books, this one is pure brain candy. He has a nack for taking oddball characters and weaving them into a carnival ride of a read.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
With a hilarious cast of characters and crazy plot line, this is Hiaasen at his funniest. I was sorry it had to end.
Anonymous 25 days ago
As always, a very funny and tangled story!!
Scorn9 More than 1 year ago
Razor Girl by Carl Hiaasen is a funny, smart and entertaining novel that will keep you hooked until the very end! This book was strange in the best way! It's a mysterious thriller with extreme amounts of comedy and lunacy splashed throughout. It's like one of the best sitcoms you can find on television these days (think the hilarity of Bones, but the intensity of NCIS/CSI). Throughout the book, you follow Merry, Yancy, Buck, Coolman and a variety of other wacky characters. Merry is the "Razor Girl" the title suggests, who performs hilarious acts of crime to get some well needed money to fund her insane antics. She runs into Yancy, an ex-cop, and they search for the missing Buck - a now famous man due to various antics of his own. The book was a little hard to follow for me, but that was because I read it over a long period of time. That left me confused with following certain characters. It is a great book, but I'd recommend reading this book either in a binge or in a short period of time. The book is wild and has lots of fun story lines to follow, which could be confusing if you stay away from the book for too long. I did find the book rather slow, but it was super funny - so it made up for the lack of speed. At times, I felt like there was some unnecessary slowness that could have been avoided but I'm a reader that loves a really fast pace. The mysteries and the comedy is mixed in nicely, which can keep your mind away from the slow moving pace if you are interested in comedic tones. I haven't read any books by Carl Hiaasen before this, but now I definitely want to get my hands on more of his books! The book was seriously funny, which is something I am lacking in my bookshelf. I'd highly recommend reading his books if you love lots of humor in your books. I couldn't believe how many times I laughed out loud from super silly comments and situations Carl put his characters in. The jokes weren't just one timers either - they were continued throughout the book (similar to how Arrested Development carries jokes over an entire episode). I seriously loved the humor! More authors need to learn how to include humor like Carl does! When I read other reviews after this book and saw that many readers thought this book was the LEAST funny, it made me wonder how much funnier his other books must be! This book was 5 star comedy for me! Overall, the kookiness and craziness of this book is fantastic! It's a great read that will make you laugh out loud! Four out of five stars!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is good!
Drewano More than 1 year ago
Hiassen at his best. Take one part Florida craziness, one part bumbling crooks and one part fun characters and mix them together and you get a fun story. As always the writing is good and plot is beyond belief (outside of FLA) and the characters are engaging. I found myself laughing at several parts. If you like his other work pick up ‘Razor Girl’
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
WriteReason More than 1 year ago
A fancifully entertaining book! A good read when you want something different, and amusing.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Razor Girl is a good read - a fun read, in fact. However, it is not a page turner and one really doesn't care how it ends.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous 26 days ago
A halarious romp in the sand with roosters, rats, razors, and raving lunatics. Not to mention the Mafia and "reality television." All with the unlikely hero (?) Andrew Yancy.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
If you live (or have lived) in the "Sunshine State", these books are even funnier. Wonderful reading.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Fun book and quick read.