Beyond Repair Read Online Free PDF Page A

guy—say to him—if I do catch him.
    If only DJ were here. He’s never stuck for what to say. He’d know what to do.
    But he’s not here. “Stay here, okay?” I push Leah against the cart rack between two parking stalls. “Don’t move. I will be right back for you.”
    â€œWhat about the groceries?”
    â€œForget the groceries. And don’t you dare move.”

Chapter Eight
    I dart between cars, dodging one way and then the other. He must be here. The stalker. I swear that was him in the store.
    I peer through windshields and side windows. My head is spinning as I look one way, then the other, at a shadow, someone passing, a movement, any movement.
    So this is what paranoia feels like , I think as I stand panting and wondering what to do next.
    â€œHold on there.”
    The guy marching toward me is wearing a navy and yellow uniform. A rent-a-cop! A badge on his shoulder says Prestige Security. I always figure security guards are wannabe soldiers who can’t get into the real army. They’d rather be in Iraq or Afghanistan instead of some crummy grocery store. They all have an overdeveloped sense of their own importance.
    Pretending not to have heard him, I turn and look back at Leah. She’s climbed on top of the shopping-cart rack and is looking for me in the wrong direction.
    â€œYou want to tell me what’s going on?” asks the guard.
    â€œI’m looking for my little sister.”
    â€œShe drive, does she?”
    â€œCourse not.”
    â€œOr maybe you forgot what your own car looks like.” He peers at me. “You’re hardly old enough to drive, I’d reckon.”
    I feel a sudden flush of anger in my chest. Who does he think does the chores that my mother doesn’t have time for? How does he think I manage to get the week’s groceries home?
    Instead of getting into it with him, I take a breath. “You’ve got it wrong. My sister is a handful. She has a nasty habit of looking for cars that are open,” I tell him. “She hides in them. It scares me and my mom to death.”
    He tips his hat back on his head and scratches his cheek. “So where is your mother then?”
    â€œShe’s not here right now. It’s just me and my sister.” I pretend to be scanning the parking lot. I do a phony double take when my eyes land on the cart rack. Leah’s still there. But now she’s swinging from the overhead bar like it’s a jungle gym.
    â€œLeah!” I use the kind of voice that’s meant to show, Thank goodness I found you. I was so worried . “There she is,” I tell the security guy. “I’d better grab her before she takes off again.”
    When he puts out one arm toward me, I step out of reach. But it turns out he’s just trying to let a car go by.
    â€œI need a few details,” he says, taking a notebook out of his pocket. “Incident report. You know how it goes. Just hang on and let me have your name. I’ll have a quick word with your sister too.”
    â€œI can tell you everything you need to know, officer.” As I say it, I know how dumb I sound. He’s a security guard, not a cop. “My name is Jason Burke,” I tell him. Jason sits two rows behind me in math and aces every test. Never did like him.
    I’ve got to keep the security guard away from Leah. She’s bound to mess things up worse than they are. Another lie comes quickly to my lips. “My sister is retarded.” No. That’s not the word. “She has serious developmental problems,” I say. “We live at 137 Drake Drive.” I’m not even sure we have a Drake Drive around here. “Now. If you don’t mind, sir. I must get my sister home.” I push back my sleeve and make a big deal of looking at my watch. “Time for her medication.”
    I feel like I’m channeling DJ. He’s always making up wild stories on the spot.
    The