gingerly, keeping low. Slowly — agonizingly slowly — Griffin raised himself to peer in the window.
Dr. Egan was the only customer. The jewelry box, still closed, sat on the glass showcase. The principal released the catch and opened the lid.
“Now!” breathed Griffin. He threw the door wide and rolled inside, the team at his heels.
Dr. Egan looked up, startled. He spied Griffin first. “You!”
Like a gunfighter at the O.K. Corral, Griffin whipped out the cell phone, framed a view of his principal standing over the open box, and tore off six quick shots.
Cameras flashed, team members jockeyed for the best vantage point. If anyone had ever been caught in the act, it was Dr. Egan.
At the same instant, all six noticed the contents of the jewelry box. It was an antique gold brooch with one missing drop pearl.
“That’s not a Super Bowl ring!” blurted Ben.
Truer words had never been spoken.
The principal’s voice dripped ice. “This is going to have consequences.”
18
T he electronic bracelet was tight and uncomfortable and squeezed his leg. Griffin was never going to get used to it — just like he was never going to get used to the idea of why he had to wear it.
“The PEMA unit sends a wireless signal to the monitoring hub we’ve installed in your basement,” intoned Detective Sergeant Vizzini, who had just clapped the device onto Griffin’s ankle.
“PEMA?” asked Mr. Bing weakly.
“Police Electronic Monitoring Anklet. I’ve set the range for two hundred feet, which should cover the house and most of the yard. Anything beyond that triggers an alarm at headquarters. The warning light will flash green, and you’ll have ten seconds to get back in range. After that, it goesred.” He looked at Griffin with expressionless eyes. “You don’t want that.”
The worst thing about this was that Mom couldn’t look at the anklet without sobbing. “I can’t believe this is happening to us! Our son is not a criminal! What would he want with Mrs. Egan’s grandmother’s brooch? Don’t you understand that he’s looking for the ring because he doesn’t have it?”
“What I understand,” said Vizzini, “is that he was under court-ordered house arrest, and he ignored it. Now — if you try to remove the anklet, the alarm sounds. If you try to move the hub, the alarm sounds. If you try to tamper with any of the settings, the alarm sounds. Bottom line, you’re under the same house arrest. The only change is that this time you have to do it. Any questions?”
“What about school?” asked Griffin.
“You’re authorized for that. Don’t abuse it. JFK will be giving us updates throughout the day. And don’t worry about showering. This thing’s indestructible.”
Before leaving, Vizzini took Mr. Bing’s credit card imprint. That was the biggest insult of all. The Cedarville Police Department actually made you pay for your own PEMA monitoring — $39.95a day, plus a security deposit. Like he was going to steal this fabulous fashion accessory.
“Well, Griffin —” His father looked like he hadn’t slept in a long time. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re in deep trouble here.”
“But I’m
innocent
,” Griffin protested. “You said you believed me.”
“We do,” his mother whimpered softly. “But I look at that awful thing on your ankle and wonder what difference it really makes. I may be crazy, but I’d rather have you guilty and getting away with it than innocent and clapped in that leg iron.”
“One thing’s certain,” his father went on grimly. “It definitely didn’t help that you had such a reputation with the local police. So when it came to believing you, why should they?”
For Griffin, it was the ultimate blow. Throughout this whole nightmare, the one thing he’d always had going for him was the fact that his parents were on his side. They still were — sort of. But they also seemed to blame him — as if this misfortune, which he’d had no hand in, was
Dr. Egan was the only customer. The jewelry box, still closed, sat on the glass showcase. The principal released the catch and opened the lid.
“Now!” breathed Griffin. He threw the door wide and rolled inside, the team at his heels.
Dr. Egan looked up, startled. He spied Griffin first. “You!”
Like a gunfighter at the O.K. Corral, Griffin whipped out the cell phone, framed a view of his principal standing over the open box, and tore off six quick shots.
Cameras flashed, team members jockeyed for the best vantage point. If anyone had ever been caught in the act, it was Dr. Egan.
At the same instant, all six noticed the contents of the jewelry box. It was an antique gold brooch with one missing drop pearl.
“That’s not a Super Bowl ring!” blurted Ben.
Truer words had never been spoken.
The principal’s voice dripped ice. “This is going to have consequences.”
18
T he electronic bracelet was tight and uncomfortable and squeezed his leg. Griffin was never going to get used to it — just like he was never going to get used to the idea of why he had to wear it.
“The PEMA unit sends a wireless signal to the monitoring hub we’ve installed in your basement,” intoned Detective Sergeant Vizzini, who had just clapped the device onto Griffin’s ankle.
“PEMA?” asked Mr. Bing weakly.
“Police Electronic Monitoring Anklet. I’ve set the range for two hundred feet, which should cover the house and most of the yard. Anything beyond that triggers an alarm at headquarters. The warning light will flash green, and you’ll have ten seconds to get back in range. After that, it goesred.” He looked at Griffin with expressionless eyes. “You don’t want that.”
The worst thing about this was that Mom couldn’t look at the anklet without sobbing. “I can’t believe this is happening to us! Our son is not a criminal! What would he want with Mrs. Egan’s grandmother’s brooch? Don’t you understand that he’s looking for the ring because he doesn’t have it?”
“What I understand,” said Vizzini, “is that he was under court-ordered house arrest, and he ignored it. Now — if you try to remove the anklet, the alarm sounds. If you try to move the hub, the alarm sounds. If you try to tamper with any of the settings, the alarm sounds. Bottom line, you’re under the same house arrest. The only change is that this time you have to do it. Any questions?”
“What about school?” asked Griffin.
“You’re authorized for that. Don’t abuse it. JFK will be giving us updates throughout the day. And don’t worry about showering. This thing’s indestructible.”
Before leaving, Vizzini took Mr. Bing’s credit card imprint. That was the biggest insult of all. The Cedarville Police Department actually made you pay for your own PEMA monitoring — $39.95a day, plus a security deposit. Like he was going to steal this fabulous fashion accessory.
“Well, Griffin —” His father looked like he hadn’t slept in a long time. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re in deep trouble here.”
“But I’m
innocent
,” Griffin protested. “You said you believed me.”
“We do,” his mother whimpered softly. “But I look at that awful thing on your ankle and wonder what difference it really makes. I may be crazy, but I’d rather have you guilty and getting away with it than innocent and clapped in that leg iron.”
“One thing’s certain,” his father went on grimly. “It definitely didn’t help that you had such a reputation with the local police. So when it came to believing you, why should they?”
For Griffin, it was the ultimate blow. Throughout this whole nightmare, the one thing he’d always had going for him was the fact that his parents were on his side. They still were — sort of. But they also seemed to blame him — as if this misfortune, which he’d had no hand in, was
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