Free The Classy Crooks Club by Alison Cherry

unparalleled disaster if people had seen squad cars in my driveway.”
    The fact that Grandma Jo cares less about my safety than how she looks to the neighbors makes me insanely angry.  “I was fine ,” I say. “You could’ve asked Stanley where I was. It’s not like I can go anywhere without him.”
    â€œSince you obviously have too much unoccupied time, you can do some chores for me in the mornings in addition to your afternoon etiquette lessons,” Grandma Jo continues, completely ignoring me. “You will go straight to soccer at the proper time, and you will come straight home afterward. You will not spend any more time with this Maddie character. She’s clearly a bad influence on you.”
    I feel the beginnings of tears pricking in my eyes, but I swallow hard and dig my nails into my palms—I refuse to let my grandmother see me cry. “Maddie’s not a bad influence! Mom and Dad always let me go over there.”
    â€œI’m not your mother, and you didn’t have my permission to go,” she snaps. “You flagrantly disregarded my instructions, and that is unacceptable. While you’re here, you answer to me and me alone, and if you break the rules, you will deal with the consequences.”
    I think about shouting back that she has no right to talk about breaking rules, seeing as she’s stealing people’s pets for ransom, but I can’t go there until I have the proof I need. “I tried to ask your permission, but I couldn’t find you!” I say instead.
    â€œThen you shouldn’t have left. It is imperative that you learn patience, self-control, and responsibility.” Grandma Jo holds out her hand. “Give me your cell phone, please.”
    â€œWhat? Why? What are you going to do to it?”
    â€œFor heaven’s sake, Annemarie, I’m not going to do anything to it. I’m going to keep it until you’ve proven to me that you’re responsible enough to have it back.”
    â€œThat is so unfair!” I’m so frustrated now that I’m positive I’m going to burst into tears.
    â€œIf you ignore my perception of what’s fair, you can’t expect me to abide by yours,” she says. “The device, please, Annemarie.”
    I dig my phone out of my soccer bag and slap it into her palm a little harder than necessary, and it disappears into a hidden pocket in Grandma Jo’s huge black skirt. Now how am I supposed to record the birds saying incriminating things so I can get myself out of here? I decide I’ll break into the storage room again tonight regardless, just to see what I can find out. If the birds don’t say anything I can use, maybe I can teach them some things that would make Grandma Jo look really bad. I wonder how fast parrots learn.
    As if my grandmother hasn’t tortured me enough for one day, she dismisses me to finish my stupid sewing sampler while she hangs out with her bridge club friends. The absolute last thing I want to do right now is nitpicky, delicate work. I’m so angry I’d like to smash the glass door of the china cabinet into a million pieces with this idiotic embroidery book. But I tell myself I only have to keep it together for a few more hours, and then I can put my plan into action and get out of here for good.
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    My grandmother goes to bed at exactly the same time she did last night. She’s such a creature of habit that she probably goes to sleep at the exact same time every night and has the exact same dreams, all full of black dresses and old-lady card games and tea. I sit silently for half an hour after her door shuts, waiting to hear her chain-saw snoring start up. It doesn’t, but I don’t hear anything else, either, so I figure it’s probably safe to sneak downstairs. I gather my flashlight and library card and tiptoe down to the storage room.
    It takes me much less time than it