style="font-size:15px;"> Adam stared at her. “What’s wrong now?”
Kitty squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to quell the shock of what she’d almost done. She’d put this plan together in less than a day, but she’d forgotten one vital detail. “We can’t get money this way,” she said.
“Why not? You said you’ve got some in your account.”
“I know, but...” She paused. Adam would never sympathize with the mistake she’d nearly made.
His eyes widened with impatience. “But what?”
But when I opened this account ten years ago, my father listed himself as a signer on the documents.
That move had been necessary at the time, since after she’d been with Bobby, Kitty’s credit rating had been stuck somewhere in financial quicksand. Like it or not, Owen still had access to her accounts, and ATMs left paper trails. He’d know she’d used this machine and where it was located. Besides, Kitty wouldn’t have been surprised if Owen had already closed the account, tightening the net that would force her and Adam back to Richland. She squeezed her eyes closed for a minute and drew a deep breath. She should have anticipated this problem.
Adam waited for an answer, so she repeated, “We can’t get cash this way, but, Adam, don’t worry...”
He shook his head. “I know. You’ll think of something.” He walked toward the store entrance. “I’m going inside.”
Grateful he’d dropped the subject, Kitty watched him go. “I’ll meet you here after I buy your breakfast.” She dug a few precious dollar bills from her pocket. “Remember to locate the pay phones. But don’t use one,” she hollered after him. When she spoke to Bette, she’d have to ask her to wire money. She knew her mother’s cousin had it to lend, but it wouldn’t make asking any easier.
Kitty walked toward the outdoor market and considered the selections and how much each cost. She figured five hundred from Bette ought to cover the cost of truck repairs and gasoline. With any luck, she and Adam would be back on the highway and driving east to Charlotte by the afternoon.
She bought two blueberry muffins, a banana and orange juice for Adam, and a cup of coffee for herself. Then she stood in the parking lot, feeling the warmth of the morning sun, and the renewed confidence that comes from having a solution. She’d just swallowed a generous swig of coffee when a sudden commotion at the entrance to Value-Rite made the coffee percolate in her empty belly. It couldn’t be.
It was. Adam was streaking across the parking lot, dodging cars, people and baby strollers. His arms were wrapped tightly around the elastic waist of his Tampa Bay Buccaneers jacket. And huffing and puffing, but steadily gaining on him, were two uniformed security guards.
Kitty dropped her paper cup, gripped the brown bag that held Adam’s breakfast and ran toward the chase, which was now drawing a crowd. By the time she reached Adam, a security guard had his arm around her son’s chest. He held Adam above the pavement while he attempted to dodge blows from Adam’s wildly thrashing legs.
“Let me go, you big goon,” Adam shouted. Sweat poured down his face. “You lay a hand on me and I’ll sue.”
The guard didn’t loosen his grip. “Watch your mouth, kid. You’re in enough trouble already.”
A quick inspection of the parking lot confirmed what Kitty already suspected. At least a dozen electronic items lay scattered at the guard’s feet. Digital cameras, MP3 players, video games... Kitty couldn’t take it all in at once. “Oh, Adam, you didn’t.”
A man in a white shirt approached with the second security guard, who held a radio in his hand. “I’ve got Sheriff Oakes on the line,” the guard said. “He’s only a half mile away, so he should be here pretty—”
A siren cut him off as a patrol car careened into the lot and came to a lunging stop next to them. A large man in a uniform with a badge that proclaimed him Sheriff stepped out of the car and strolled around the hood. After appraising the situation, he removed his wide-brimmed hat and ran his hand through thick gray hair. Then he looked at Adam, whose face was the color of chalk. “Looks like you’re in a heap of trouble, little buddy.”
“What’re you gonna do?” Adam squawked as the guard lowered him to the asphalt.
“Well, let’s see here.” He picked up the damaged remains of what was obviously an expensive camera. Adam didn’t comment.
Next the sheriff examined the split blister packaging that contained a handheld gaming system. The contents rattled in the throes of electronic death. The rest of the merchandise, which had obviously been stuffed into Adam’s jacket, was in a similar state of ruin.
Kitty pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off a pain that had sliced between her eyes. She stepped between Adam and the sheriff. “Officer, I’m his mother, and...”
The sheriff touched the brim of his hat. “Sheriff Oakes,” he said, and motioned to the man in the white shirt. “Quint, run a tab of what all this costs.” He looked down at Adam and raised thick bushy eyebrows. “I hope you got a lot of money, son. It’s not likely to get you out of this mess, but it’s a start.” He returned his attention to Kitty. “So you’re the boy’s mother?”
She nodded.
“Can’t say as I envy you, Mrs....”
“Watley. Miss Kitty Watley.” She stared intently at her son, warning him not to reveal the truth about her name. “This is Adam.”
“Where are you from?”
“Florida, most recently.”
“You come all the way from Florida to attend the opening of our Value-Rite, Miss Watley?”
“No, of course not. My son and I were just passing through. We’re on our way to Charlotte, but our truck broke down, and that’s not all. We got lost. We’ve been robbed...”
“Sounds like a hard-luck case, all right,” the sheriff said. “But how do you figure this justifies what your boy just did?”
Kitty felt her hopes for a sympathetic solution to this current disaster deflate like an old inner tube. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, and looked at Adam.
He rubbed a dirty finger under his nose and stood ramrod straight. “You wouldn’t let your mother starve, would you, Sheriff?” Poking the same finger in Kitty’s direction, he added, “Look at how skinny she is. I was just trying to fetch a few dollars to keep her from fainting. You were close to fainting from hunger, weren’t you, Mom?”
“Oh, Adam...”
The sheriff placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder and nudged him toward the patrol car. “Let’s go down to the station and see what charges will have to be filed.”
Adam jerked away. “Charges! You got to be kidding.” He gawked at Kitty. “Did you hear that, Mom? Are you happy now? He’s gonna put me in jail for trying to save us from starvation.” The look on his face was pure desperation when he said, “Cripes, Mom, it’s time to use your cell phone and call Grandpa!”
Kitty looked away from the pleading in her
