Tracy Tam: Santa Command Read Online Free PDF

touched the brass door knob, she pulled four items from her neck pouch: cocoa powder, a white index card, a paintbrush, and tape. She used the items to lift a smudgy fingerprint from the knob. She didn't know what information Santa's fingerprint would give her, but it didn't hurt to have it.
    Once her evidence was stored safely in the pouch, she twisted the brass door knob and pulled it open. Inside, hung three identical Santa suits. That all seemed pretty normal, but what stood out was the tag inside the collar. Tracy had expected it to read something like, “Sewn with love by Mrs. Claus.” Instead it had a name stitched in sparkly green thread: E. Higgens. It reminded her of how her mother had sewn a label that said “T. Tam” into all of her clothes last year for summer camp.
    Who was E. Higgens? Was he the one who made the coat? Elf Higgens?
    Tracy reached into her pocket for her phone. She needed a picture of this. When the phone wasn't in her pocket, she began to panic.
    She ran back to the couch. “No! No! No!” she said while tossing the candy cane shaped throw pillows onto the carpet and digging between the couch cushions. “No! Where is it? Where is it?” She sunk down onto the sofa, her bottom lip trembling as she knew where it had to be—shattered in a million pieces on the little boy's driveway all the way back in Florida.
    “No,” she whispered into the chocolate scented air.
    She flopped back on the couch, wondering if she had any hope of completing the project without her phone. Those pictures were at the heart of her project. Her eyes drifted once more to Santa's photos on the table.
    Maybe she could take those photos with her. Or maybe…Tracy touched her finger to Mrs. Claus' chubby smile, and an idea settled in her mind. Santa obviously wasn't home, but maybe his wife was.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Santa Command—Control Room 8
    December 25 th
    0022 hours
     
    Phil focused on number crunching, trying to gain lost seconds here and there. If Santa skipped one toy every three houses, he had a good chance of making up that time by 0530, which was when the Santa program ended.
    Phil was so busy, in fact, that he had put Tracy out of his mind. She was sleeping the night away in a dressing room, the only part of Santa Command she would ever see. The Inklings had worked their magic on her injuries, and when the time came to take her home, she would be good as new. Until then, Beth, who maintained the children's wish lists, was watching the video feed of the girl from her office. Once Tracy woke up, Beth would talk to her and convince her she'd been to Santa's house. Then, Beth would make Tracy promise never to tell another living soul. He figured this would be done through a pinky swear. That's what little girls did, didn't they?
    He had done the right thing. He didn't need to worry. Walt didn't need to worry. Phil's plan was solid. He was an expert in predicting how kids would react in different situations. Tracy would be no exception.

CHAPTER NINE
     
    Tracy
     
    The door was locked. She tried it about a hundred times, hoping for a different result, but it stayed locked no matter what she did. She even tried picking it with a paperclip, but that only worked in the movies. What good was packing an emergency supply kit if it didn't help in emergencies?
    She folded her arms across her chest and huffed as she sagged back against the door. If she was going to find Mrs. Claus and grill her for information, she had only one option. She marched over to the armoire, where she pulled out one of E. Higgens' handmade coats. But before she put it on, she grabbed hold of the name tag in the collar, ripped it out, then slipped it into her neck pouch. Evidence, because she doubted anyone would let her take the coat home with her.
    The coat hung down to her knees, but when she tightened up the black leather belt, it fit more like a dress. More importantly, it would keep her from freezing to death in the Arctic as she