Cages Read Online Free Page B

find out. She slipped her hand in her coat pocket, pulled out the gold bracelet, and dropped it on the woman’s desk.
    The woman reached for the telephone. “I’ll call your parents,” she said. “What’s the number?”
    Kit told her.
    “Are they both at that number?”
    “My mother is. And my stepfather.”
    “What’s your mother’s name?”
    “Dorothy Gillette. But do you have to call her?” Kit leaned forward, her hands gripping the arms of the chair. “I’ve never taken anything before and I swear I’ll never do it again.”
    “I have to call,” the woman said, as she punched the numbers.
    Kit closed her eyes. That was it, then. Her mother would find out and so would Wayne. Probably the whole school would know, even Tracy and Miss Fenton. Any faint chance she might have had for the Ninth Grade Scholarship had just blown out the window.
    The woman said, “Mrs. Gillette? This is Hannah Rydecker. I’m with the security department of Pierre’s. Your daughter was shoplifting and I would like you to come down to the store and get her.”
    Kit listened while the woman told Dorothy where to come. After she hung up, she said, “Your mother is on her way. We’ll release you to her custody until the Juvenile Court decides how to proceed.”
    Kit wanted to run. She wished she could dig a hole and crawl in it and hide. She didn’t want to go to Juvenile Court.She didn’t want to be guilty of shoplifting. Most of all she didn’t want to see the look on her mother’s face when Dorothy got to Pierre’s.
    There was no way to run and no place to hide. Frankie’s line from the play popped into her mind. “I feel just exactly like somebody has peeled all the skin off me.”
    Kit slumped in her chair and waited.
    The woman began writing, filling out some kind of form. “What’s your name?” she asked.
    “Kit Hathaway.”
    The woman wrote it on the form.
    “Age?”
    “Fourteen.”
    “Is this shoplifting incident related to any drug problem?”
    “No.” Why would she think that?
    Mrs. Rydecker seemed to believe her. “A lot of shoplifting is drug related,” she said, as she continued to write on the form. She leaned back in her chair. “A police officer will be here soon. He’ll have other questions for you.”
    Kit wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans. The walls of the office seemed to be closing in on her. Feeling trapped and helpless, and far more scared than she’d ever been before, she fought to hold back the tears.
    The officer who arrived was in uniform. The name plate above his badge said, “Sergeant Adams.”
    The woman handed him the form she had filled out and he read it quickly.
    “Have you mirandized her yet?” he asked the woman.
    “No.”
    The officer stood beside Kit and spoke rapidly. “You havethe right to remain silent,” he said. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and to have a lawyer with you during this interrogation. If you are indigent, a lawyer will be appointed to represent you.”
    Kit could see no point in remaining silent and she didn’t think a lawyer would help. She had already admitted her guilt by giving the bracelet back. The woman had said it would be easier for her if she told the truth and that’s what she planned to do.
    “Are the statements in this report true?” Sergeant Adams showed Kit the form that Mrs. Rydecker had given him.
    “Yes.”
    “You are under arrest for shoplifting.”
    “Under arrest? But I gave the bracelet back. I told the truth and I thought . . .”
    Sergeant Adams interrupted. “Did you take the bracelet?” he asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    Kit shrugged.
    “Did you need money for drugs?”
    “No.” Why did they keep asking her if she was on drugs? Did she look like an addict?
    “Do you have a problem at home?” Mrs. Rydecker asked.
    Kit looked at her. Mrs. Rydecker smiled. Kit shook her head.
    “No trouble with your folks?”
    Kit thought