A Fantastic Holiday Season: The Gift of Stories Read Online Free PDF

overboard, though, because there was a better-than-even chance Buddy had just run away with his juvenile delinquent unnatural pals. Still, if Buddy’s disappearance was connected with the other missing kids, McGoo would want to be along.
    Then Robin insisted on joining us. With such a three-pronged approach, how could we not be prepared to solve any problem?
    She had frowned in disapproval when she heard about the implanted tracker chip, claiming that it violated the civil rights of an underage werewolf. But McGoo had seen enough troublemakers in his work, and he was more inclined to try the “terrified straight” approach. Robin finally conceded that if the tracker meant we could reunite the full-time fuzzy kid with his once-a-month fuzzy parents, then all was for the best.
    With the tracker’s frequency and serial number, Robin downloaded a free but highly rated Track Werewolf app for her smartphone. She bundled up in a wool coat, and we all set off into the snowy night to find Buddy, leaving Sheyenne in charge of the office.
    We wandered around the Quarter for a frustrating hour, following false signals (a garage-door opener and a universal TV remote control). I was beginning to think that we might not pick up the tracker’s limited-range signal until after we had already found the subject in question. We were lost and frustrated; what had seemed to be an easy solution was turning out to be a headache and a waste of time.
    Then Sheyenne called us and saved the day. She had found an update for the Track Werewolf app, which dealt with certain bugs and user issues and increased sensitivity. Once Robin installed the update, we found a strong signal. We were closer than we thought.
    The signal led us straight to the tall smokestacks and gigantic toy warehouses behind Elfis’s North Pole South complex.
    Holding her phone, Robin took the lead, guiding us along the chain-link fence to the back service entrance of the gigantic manufacturing warehouses. The temperature was dropping, and fluffy snowflakes drifted down. Not a creature was stirring, not even the ones that usually stirred at that time of night.
    Approaching the back guard gate, we found two burly golems wearing security guard uniforms. Their clay bodies were stiff and hardening in the cold, but one perked up. “Do you hear what I hear?”
    The other said, “Do you see what I see?”
    Now alert, the golems prepared to block our way, both of them focusing on McGoo’s uniform, the dark blue police shirt, trousers, and cap. “That looks good on you,” said one of the golems.
    “We both wanted to be cops, but couldn’t pass the tests,” the other explained.
    I knew why, but I didn’t embarrass them by pointing out the reason.
    McGoo said, “We’re searching for a missing child, and we have reason to believe he’s inside one of the warehouses.” He held out a copy of Buddy’s picture.
    “Kids just can’t stay away from toys,” said the first golem.
    Robin held up her smartphone, showing the app. “And we have electronic evidence he’s in there.”
    The golems were again intrigued. “Is that phone one of the new models?”
    The other said, “Does it have Angry Vultures on it? Or Curses with Friends?”
    I knew if the golems started playing games on Robin’s phone we would never get past the gate. “We need to have a look, bring that boy back to his parents.”
    The first golem had a stony expression on his clay face. “Sorry. We can’t let you inside. Elfis is very strict.”
    The other golem looked intimidated. “He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows when you’ve been bad or good.” In tandem, they shook their smooth clay heads and pointed upward. “Security cameras.”
    Time for Plan B. I removed a folded sheet of paper from the inside pocket of my jacket and showed it to the two golems. “We have a duly authorized search warrant to enter the premises, signed by Judge Hawkins herself. This grants us