Free Uncovering Sadie's Secrets by Libby Sternberg Page A

Sometimes you just have to suffer for the sake of beauty.
    Everything was going well. I spent the rest of the afternoon with my family, and that managed to be pretty peaceful. Then— glory, hallelujah—I discovered that Connie would take me to my rendezvous, not Tony. Connie was much more sensitive to my desire to be places on time, whereas Tony—well, Tony just moved to the tune of a different band.
    After dinner, the Hair Gods smiled on me and I was able to brush my honey brown locks into a devil-may-care style that was as close as I would ever come to model hair. I applied some light makeup with a subtle touch of glitter shadow on my eyes, and some rose-blush gloss on my lips. I had just about secured my hoop earrings when I heard the phone ring. A few seconds later, my mother called upstairs to me.
    “Bianca! Phone!”
    My heart dropped into my stomach. Everything had been going too well. It was probably Doug canceling. I could already feel the tears start to well behind my eyes. Stop it, I told myself. After all, if he’s calling to cancel, it must be because something horrible has happened.
    Somehow, that made me feel better.
    “Hello?” I said tentatively in my best “don’t-disappoint-me-now-you-heartless-toad” voice.
    “Bianca? This is Sadie.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper, and scared.
    “Sadie! I heard you called the other day, but I didn’t have your number!”
    “Yeah, well, I forgot to leave it. I just wanted to thank you for the other day,” she said awkwardly.
    In the background, I thought I heard someone knocking on a door. It was hard to tell because she had the radio on, tuned to the same station I had playing in the background. I turned mine off.
    “Is someone at your door?” I asked.
    She paused, and it sounded as if she was walking to the door to see who it was. “No. . . no. . . probably somebody hammering something next door,” she said so unsurely that I knew it was a lie.
    “Sadie, who were those people looking for you the other day?”
    Silence.
    “Sadie? Are you there?”
    “Yes. It’s just that they. . .” The knocking started again.
    “Look, Sadie, if that was your mother, you don’t need to hide it.”
    I heard her sigh. Then: “Yes.” The knocking stopped and I heard a buzzing, like an electronic doorbell, followed by more knocking, now quite insistent and loud. That was no next door neighbor doing home improvement. Someone wanted in and Sadie wasn’t letting them.
    “Sadie, what’s going on? Do you need to get the door?” I asked.
    “No, no.” But her voice sounded frightened. “I have to go. This isn’t a good time.” I heard muffled shouting in the background, then the sound of a door opening and closing!
    “Wait! Tell me where you live at least!” I shouted into the phone.
    “Barrington. . .” she whispered frantically. Then I heard a woman’s voice—it was the voice of Lemming Lady, I was sure of it. She was angry. “You should have let us in, you. . .” Then the phone went dead.
    My palms were sweating as I thought of what to do. It was just before five.
    “Connie!” I shouted in the hallway. My sister appeared from her room, romance novel in hand.
    “What?”
    “Can we leave now? I have an errand to run.”
    Connie looked at her watch and shrugged. “Sure. I wanted to pick some stuff up at the mall anyway.” She went back into her room and reappeared a few seconds later with a shawl-collar sweater over her t-shirt and jeans. “You should wear a jacket,” she said, digging through her purse for her car keys. “It’s getting chilly.”
    “I’ll be fine,” I said and followed her out to the car. I really wanted to call Kerrie but there wasn’t time. Plus, Connie might be able to help me. She was, after all, a PI. After we were on our way, I spilled the beans.
    “Do you know a street called Barrington?” I asked.
    “Why? I could look it up on a map for you,” she said heading towards Towson. “What’s on