Spradlin - Live and Let Shop

This book is for my daughter,

Rachel Leigh Spradlin,

the toughest girl I know.

MS

THE COP CAR I rode in the night I got arrested was really clean. Spotless, almost. So was the station house. It wasnt like the police stations you see on TV, where there are druggies and lowlifes everywhere you look and everything is total chaos. It was pretty quiet, very neat, and there didnt seem to be much going on. It reminded me of the locker room at Dads country club. I guess theres not a lot of serious crime in Beverly Hills. Except for me, of courseRachel Buchanan, one-girl crime wave.

We only got caught that night because Boozer made an illegal left turn in the car hed boosted. Unluckily for us, a cop happened to drive by at exactly the wrong moment. So much of life is just timing.

Boozer is so smooth, he probably could have talked his way out of it, but instead he panicked and took off. So there we were in a high-speed chase. The weird thing was, I thought it was funny. For some reason, when I get scared or nervousor apparently in a high-speed chaseI start to laugh. Maybe Im a psycho. Ill get on a roller coaster at Magic Mountain with a drop straight down, and while everyone is screaming at the top of their lungs, Im sitting there laughing like an idiot. Its this really weird nervous laugh that I cant stop. I wonder what a shrink would say about that?

Anyway, so Boozer, Jamie, and Grego were scared and screaming the whole time the cop was chasing us, and when Boozer ran the car up onto a lawn, they piled out right away and took off running. I was laughing so hard in the backseat that I couldnt move, and thats how I got busted.

The cop ordered me out of the car and asked me what I thought was so funny. Stealing a car and driving it up on somebodys lawn? And who were my friends and where did they go? And I was in a lot of trouble, missy, make no mistake about it. And blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I couldnt stop laughing, so he hustled me into his car and off we went to the station.

I wound up sitting on a bench outside the interview room, where a detective named Daniels asked me all kinds of questions about who took the car. He kept saying Id better tell them what they wanted to know or Id be in worse trouble. I told him to stuff it because theres no way I was telling the cops who I was with. So he called my parents and invited them down to spend a little quality time with me at the Beverly Hills PD.

It took about an hour for Dad to show upof course, with the ever-present cell phone glued to his ear. Probably calling Marvin. Marvin is his attorney. Check that. Marvin is more than Dads attorney. Hes like Dads most favorite person ever. Dad looks at Marvin and sees dollar signs. He just loves Marvin, who is quite possibly the most boring human being on the face of the earth.

No sign of Mom. Probably at home with her coffee cup full of medicine. I bet she was already working the phones in the neighborhood, trying to find out if word had spread about her daughter the criminal, and wondering how she was going to keep this out of the Beverly Hills Gazette.

Hi, Charles! Always nice to see you, I said. Mom busy?

He didnt even stop to ask if I was okay. He skipped right to the yelling part.

What were you thinking stealing a car! he said.

I didnt steal anything. I As usual he didnt let me finish.

Do you have any idea what kind of trouble youre in? Do you realize what youve put us through? By us I wasnt sure if he meant him and Mom or him and Marvin. Any time he spent having to deal with me meant less opportunity to make even more zillions of dollars.

What do you have to say for yourself? he said.

I didnt do anything, I said. I was just out with some friends.

You mean that bunch of juvenile delinquents?

Ouch, Dad. I mean, really, that hurts.

You think this is funny? He was getting angrier.

Well, this part not so much. The high-speed chase had its moments, though.

You think youve got it all figured out, dont you? he said. This isnt the first little scrape youve been in. Shoplifting, vandalism, and now youve graduated to Grand Theft Auto. Thats a felony! You realize youll have to appear before a juvenile court judge again?

Juvenile court! Again? Thatll be great, I said. Maybe you and Mom can both make it this time. Well pack a lunch and make a day of it!

Keep cracking wise, Rachel. You seem to think its all a great big joke. Well, if you wont cooperate with the police, thats your problem. No Marvin, no other attorneys, no help from us. Youre on your own.

THE NEXT COUPLE OF weeks seemed surprisingly normal. Sure, for the first couple of days Charles and Cynthia were really upset with me. There was a lot of yelling and the using of first names. Whenever they are mad at each other, or me, they use their first names a lot. Charles this and Cynthia that and Charles, do something. But after that, as usual, they sort of forgot about me again. Charles even cooled off to the degree that he said hed actually send Marvin to court with me this time instead of one of Marvins junior associates. But as far as he was concerned, whatever the judge decided was too good for me. I was grounded, of course, so I stayed in my room, surfing the Web and watching TV when I wasnt in school.

The day after I was unjustly incarcerated, I got to school to find Boozer, Jamie, and Grego all waiting for me by my locker. They were kind of hovering and pacing back and forth. It put a lump in my throat that they were so worried about me. That went away pretty fast, though.

Did you tell? That was the first thing out of Boozers mouth. Not Are you okay? or Are you in trouble? or Did they work you over with a rubber hose?

Of course not, I said. I didnt tell them anything.

Boozer and Grego let out visible sighs of relief. They had both been in a lot more trouble than me before, and if I ratted them out, theyd really be in for it.

I dont understand why you didnt run, Grego said. You wouldnt be in this mess if youd taken off like the rest of us.

I dont know. I just froze, I guess. Anyway, I have to go to court in a couple of weeks I started, but Boozer interrupted me.

Yeah, well, your dads rich, so your lawyer will get you off. Dont worry about it. Come on, guys, Boozer said. They all followed Boozer down the hall and left me standing by my locker alone.

That got me thinking. Im not the kind of person who does that very oftenthink about things, I mean. Mostly I just try to get through the day. But for some reason, being at the cop house stayed on my mind. I kept wondering, How did I get to this point? What was I thinking going along with my friends, the ones who took off at the first sign of trouble and left me footing the bill for a stolen car? Truth be told, I really didnt know the answer.

Maybe it all started when Grandpa died, a couple of years ago. It kind of sounds like a cop-out, I know. But I remember being a lot happier when Gramps was still around. I think he was the only person in the world who loved me unconditionally. He was the coolest, always spoiling me and making me feel like I was important to him. I mean, I guess Charles and Cynthia loved me. Maybe. So long as I didnt cause them any grief and spoke only when spoken to. Then Gramps died and left Buchanan Enterprises to Charles, and everything changed. Charles was obsessed with removing all evidence that Gramps had ever built the company in the first place. He wanted it to be bigger and better and to make more money than Grandpa ever did, and Grandpa had already made hundreds of millions. So he spent all of his time at work, and, of course, Cynthia hated that so she started taking it out on me. Because obviously it had to be my fault.