Free Peeled by Joan Bauer

well gnaw on cardboard.”
    “No calories in cardboard,” I told him.
    He got up grumbling and headed outside.
    I sat down and opened
The Bee
to Madame Zobek’s new column.
    “It is the beginning of a great gathering,” she wrote. “I sense there is a deep moving here. I sense a great darkness.”
    She wrote that she had personally spoken to several spirits at the Ludlow place and they told her there were many more who would be joining them.
    Terrific…
    I didn’t like the way Madame Zobek was making her presence known. She was open for business in a small store next to the offices of
The Bee.
I’d walked by it the other day. She’d hung thick purple curtains over the window, hung a black and silver sign on the door: RING THE PSYCHIC DOORBELL .
    Tanisha got a photo of the sign.
    “If she’s really psychic,” Zack said when he saw Tanisha’s photo at school, “why does she need a doorbell?”
    But people of all ages began to ring the bell and seek her advice. She had a brochure, too.
    Advice from the ages on…
    love
    life
    family
    career direction
    medical problems
    depression
    addictions
    college choices
    the stock market
    pet compatibility selection
    how to chose a contractor for
    a home remodeling project
    The list went on and on.
    Cash only.

Chapter 10

    Joleene Jowrey stood on the makeshift stage in the cafeteria, faced Lev Radner’s smirking face, and delivered one of the worst lines ever written in the history of the stage.
    “Just because you don’t love me anymore, Jason, doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. I will love you until the rivers run dry and the stars fall from the sky.”
    I swear, this play made you desperate.
    “I need you to give me more with that line, Joleene,” Mrs. Terser shouted. “Make me a believer.”
    Joleene looked at Lev, who belched. She took his hand and said, “
Just
because you don’t love me anymore, Jason, doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. I will love you until the stars run dry and the rivers fall from the—
wait
—” They both started laughing.
    “Let’s get our metaphors straight,” Mrs. Terser directed. “Rivers run dry, stars fall…”
    I put on my
Are you desperate?
cap and headed off to a very long day.
    Lessons came at me fast and furious.
    In history I learned that fiefdoms stink.
    In English I learned that
Moby-Dick
wasn’t just about sea life.
    In chemistry I learned it’s a really bad idea to add water to sulfuric acid.
    In room 67B,
The Core
’s office, I learned how to get to the heart of a story.
    Baker Polton had commandeered the desk in room 67B. He had put a photo of a pretty, smiling woman with a little boy on it, too.
    “Nice picture,” I said.
    He nodded as Royko buzzed near the food heap. “How do you kids work in here?”
    I shrugged, looked back at his photo. “Is that your family?”
    “My ex-wife and son.”
    “Sorry.”
    He gazed long and hard at that picture. “Not as sorry as I am.” Then he leaned forward in his chair and said, “Biddle, are you hungry enough to get to the heart of the Ludlow story?”
    I felt my face get hot. “I’m plenty hungry!”
    “Then explain to me why you haven’t contacted anyone who knew Sallie Miner.”
    “I’ve been doing other things,” I stammered. “I’vebeen calling D&B Security. I just get the answering machine.”
    “That’s not what hungry looks like. Let me see your notes.”
    This wasn’t going to be pretty. I took my notes out of my book bag, lay them folded and crumpled at his desk.
    “Wait, there’s more.”
    I grabbed some from the side pocket, pushed my notepad toward him, took a piece of paper from my pocket. I tried to smooth it.
    He picked up a wrinkled sheet. “Polton’s Second Law—If you’re not organized, it’ll kill you.” He spread out the sheets. “Why aren’t they numbered?”
    “I never thought of that.”
    He looked at one page from my notebook when I went to the courthouse. He underlined two words and handed it back to