Three-Point Play Read Online Free PDF Page A

prayed, I know that you know my favorite prayer. I probably don’t even have to say it, but— HELP!
    Cody waited until his stalker was halfway down the aisle, then darted up the middle of the store. He didn’t even risk a glance at Mr. Death Metal. Once outside Pet Planet, he turned left and sprinted. He could see heads turning to watch him. Two frowning mothers pulled their strollers out of his way.
    They must think I’m a shoplifter—or a lunatic , he thought. And I don’t care . He arrived at another escalator and sprinted up it, taking the moving steps two at a time.
    Mr. Death Metal was still on his trail. The big man didn’t run, but his stiff, brisk walk betrayed someone on a mission.
    Cody waited at the top of the escalator. Okay , he told himself, I have to do one thing, just to prove I’m not crazy paranoid.
    Mr. Death Metal stepped on the escalator. He walked up the steps until his path was blocked by a thin, white-haired man holding the hand of a pigtailed girl in a long, yellow dress.
    Cody forced himself to stare at Mr. Death Metal’s face. Gotta make eye contact , he told himself, then I’ll know if it’s on .
    The man was halfway up the escalator now. Cody stepped forward, as if he were going to pull a Pork Chop stunt and try to descend against the flow. Mr. Death Metal met his stare and gave an exaggerated, palms-up shrug. As if to convey, “What’s the use of running? You can’t escape.”
    Cody stepped back. “Okay,” he whispered to himself. “You wanted to know if it was on. Well, it’s on.”
    He sprinted again. He passed a bookstore, an athletic shoe store, and an apparel shop for the Plus-Size Woman. The food court was just ahead. He could smell the appealing, mingling aromas of various fried foods. Between Nacho Loco and the Donut Factory was a long hallway leading to some restrooms. He whipped his head around. Mr. Death Metal wasn’t in his sight line. He slowed to a walk to avoid colliding with a business executive exiting the men’s room.
    Inside the rearmost stall, Cody fought to slow his hungry, panting breaths. His T-shirt clung to his back, just as it did after a full-court basketball scrimmage. He locked the door and stood just in front of the toilet, facing forward.
    He waited. Presently, the door hinges whined. Is someone coming or going? he wondered. Then he heard the telltale sound of footfalls on the sticky floor. Coming, was the answer. Right at him.
    The footsteps stopped in front of Cody’s stall. The door rattled as a hand pushed against it. Cody made his voice as low as a fourteen-year-old in the early stages of puberty could. “Occupied,” he said flatly.
    â€œThat’s okay,” a voice answered. “I can wait.”
    Cody gulped. Man , what I wouldn’t give for a mall security dude who drank too much coffee at dinner.
    Cody scanned his memory trying to identify his stalker. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that face before, but it must have been a long, long time ago . Or maybe I’m just trying to convince myself I know this guy, because it would be even more terrifying to be attacked by a total stranger. And on the night before a play-off game, to boot! I’m gonna be a wreck tomorrow!
    The entrance door moaned again, and Cody heard two boisterous voices arguing over the previous weekend’s Denver Broncos game. One guy’s voice grew louder as he fought to be heard over the hissing of a sink faucet.
    Okay, Cody resolved. Time to exit. It stinks in here, and if Death Metal Dude is gonna kill me, he’s gonna have to do it in front of witnesses!
    He drew in a deep breath and turned the latch. Mr. Death Metal turned his body slightly, but he didn’t back up. Warily, Cody stepped by him. He locked his eyes on the exit. One of the Broncos fans was furiously rubbing his hands together under an air dryer. The other was studying his reflection in a