and I was sorry when the party was over.
We all climbed into Justin’s car, still smiling over all the fun, but soon after Justin drove out of the hotel parking lot onto a side street we passed a police car. The officers looked at us and did a U-turn. The lights on top of their car began to flash, and over their loudspeaker we heard the command to pull over.
“What’s with them?” Justin said as he pulled the car to the curb. “I didn’t do anything.”
One of the police officers came up to the driver’s window, while the other stood behind Justin’s car.
“What did I do?” Justin asked the officer who bent to look in the open window.
He didn’t answer. He just stared hard at each of us in turn, then said, “Slowly, now, get out of the car.”
It dawned on Justin what the officer was thinking, and he said, “We’re coming back from our school’s Halloweendance at the Anatole Hotel. Gormley Academy. We’re in costume.”
“Out of the car,” the officer said firmly, as though he’d heard every excuse ever invented and wasn’t buying any of them.
I felt like a fool, suddenly aware of what I must look like with my blue hair and miniskirt and torn T-shirt. I glanced back at the other policeman and saw it was a police
woman
and she was on her car radiophone. Great. They were checking out the car. Who did they think we were?
The officer had us line up, and when his partner joined him she said, “This is the car.”
“What’s wrong with my car?” Justin asked. His voice cracked. We were all beginning to be scared.
“We got a tip about it,” the officer said. “Take a look through the car,” he told his partner, and the policewoman bent and crawled in. I could see her sweep her arm under the front and back seats, then open the glove compartment. It was in the glove compartment that she came up with something.
As she climbed out of the car she held up a small, clear plastic packet with a handful of capsules in it. “Looks like designer drugs,” she said.
“They’re not ours!” I cried out. “We don’t do drugs.”
“Hands behind your backs,” the male officer said. Handcuffs were snapped around our wrists, and we were led to the police car.
“You don’t understand!” Allie said. “We’re Gormley Academy students, and we’ve just been at a Halloween dance.” She glanced over at me, her eyes lit up, and Iknew what she was going to do. “Officer!” she said. “This is Cary Amberson, Charles Amberson’s daughter.”
I groaned. I couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t Allie keep her mouth shut?
All I could think of were Mom’s words: “Whatever you do, Cary, will reflect on your father.”
Cha p ter 10
P hotographers from the TV stations and from the newspapers were at the police station waiting for us to arrive. They didn’t bother Justin, Allie, and Greg, but microphones were shoved into my face and questions were hurled at me like sharp stones.
“How long have you been on drugs?”
“Have you ever been arrested on drug charges before this?”
“Are you getting any kind of treatment?”
I couldn’t stand it. I screamed at them, “None of us has ever taken drugs! And we’re dressed like this because we’re in costume! We were at a Halloween party!”
It didn’t matter what I said. The reporters pushed and shoved and followed us into the station where a detective dressed in a business suit took charge and ushered us into a small room with nothing in it but a plain wooden table and six straight-backed chairs.
The officer who’d arrested us removed our handcuffs.My wrists hurt, and I rubbed them as I glared at him. “You didn’t have to do that!” I complained.
He just shrugged and said, “Procedure,” before he left the room.
His partner remained, standing against the wall near the door to the room.
“Who notified the reporters?” I asked her.
“They listen to the police calls,” she said.
“You said that Charles Amberson’s daughter had been
We all climbed into Justin’s car, still smiling over all the fun, but soon after Justin drove out of the hotel parking lot onto a side street we passed a police car. The officers looked at us and did a U-turn. The lights on top of their car began to flash, and over their loudspeaker we heard the command to pull over.
“What’s with them?” Justin said as he pulled the car to the curb. “I didn’t do anything.”
One of the police officers came up to the driver’s window, while the other stood behind Justin’s car.
“What did I do?” Justin asked the officer who bent to look in the open window.
He didn’t answer. He just stared hard at each of us in turn, then said, “Slowly, now, get out of the car.”
It dawned on Justin what the officer was thinking, and he said, “We’re coming back from our school’s Halloweendance at the Anatole Hotel. Gormley Academy. We’re in costume.”
“Out of the car,” the officer said firmly, as though he’d heard every excuse ever invented and wasn’t buying any of them.
I felt like a fool, suddenly aware of what I must look like with my blue hair and miniskirt and torn T-shirt. I glanced back at the other policeman and saw it was a police
woman
and she was on her car radiophone. Great. They were checking out the car. Who did they think we were?
The officer had us line up, and when his partner joined him she said, “This is the car.”
“What’s wrong with my car?” Justin asked. His voice cracked. We were all beginning to be scared.
“We got a tip about it,” the officer said. “Take a look through the car,” he told his partner, and the policewoman bent and crawled in. I could see her sweep her arm under the front and back seats, then open the glove compartment. It was in the glove compartment that she came up with something.
As she climbed out of the car she held up a small, clear plastic packet with a handful of capsules in it. “Looks like designer drugs,” she said.
“They’re not ours!” I cried out. “We don’t do drugs.”
“Hands behind your backs,” the male officer said. Handcuffs were snapped around our wrists, and we were led to the police car.
“You don’t understand!” Allie said. “We’re Gormley Academy students, and we’ve just been at a Halloween dance.” She glanced over at me, her eyes lit up, and Iknew what she was going to do. “Officer!” she said. “This is Cary Amberson, Charles Amberson’s daughter.”
I groaned. I couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t Allie keep her mouth shut?
All I could think of were Mom’s words: “Whatever you do, Cary, will reflect on your father.”
Cha p ter 10
P hotographers from the TV stations and from the newspapers were at the police station waiting for us to arrive. They didn’t bother Justin, Allie, and Greg, but microphones were shoved into my face and questions were hurled at me like sharp stones.
“How long have you been on drugs?”
“Have you ever been arrested on drug charges before this?”
“Are you getting any kind of treatment?”
I couldn’t stand it. I screamed at them, “None of us has ever taken drugs! And we’re dressed like this because we’re in costume! We were at a Halloween party!”
It didn’t matter what I said. The reporters pushed and shoved and followed us into the station where a detective dressed in a business suit took charge and ushered us into a small room with nothing in it but a plain wooden table and six straight-backed chairs.
The officer who’d arrested us removed our handcuffs.My wrists hurt, and I rubbed them as I glared at him. “You didn’t have to do that!” I complained.
He just shrugged and said, “Procedure,” before he left the room.
His partner remained, standing against the wall near the door to the room.
“Who notified the reporters?” I asked her.
“They listen to the police calls,” she said.
“You said that Charles Amberson’s daughter had been
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