Free Tracy Tam: Santa Command by Krystalyn Drown

a knack of making the worst choice every single time. There was only person who could retrieve her now, and there was no guarantee that he'd be willing to try.
    “Beth, I need you to make a phone call.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
     
    Jared
     
    Jared lay in his bed, bouncing an orange foam ball against his bedroom door. He liked to do that when he couldn't sleep, and this time, Beth wouldn't be home until dawn to fuss at him.
    She had called several times, but thankfully, she stopped just after midnight. No, wait. He thought too soon, because her ring tone blasted out of his phone. It was lodged somewhere in the pile of dirty clothes at the bottom of his closet, where he had been ignoring it all night. She could talk to his voice mail. Maybe he could change the message to state that he was eleven and far too old to have her checking on him every hour.
    While his phone rang and beeped, he bounced the orange ball against his door forty six times. But then, he missed the ball, so he had to get up anyway and decided to find his phone, just so he could shut it off.
    He dug through his clothes, tossing shirts and sweaters behind him until his fingers touched something hard and plastic. He fished it out of the pile, then realized it wasn't his phone. It was a CD. His stomach twisted when he saw it. He'd buried it for a reason, but he hadn't buried it deep enough.
    His phone trumpeted with a text, but he barely heard it. The memory of a long ago Saturday afternoon filled his mind. His dad had popped the CD in his stereo, proclaiming that it was time to introduce Jared to the best band in the world. From the very first chord, his dad sang loudly and jumped around the living room playing air guitar while Jared rolled his eyes and complained. His dad, enjoying himself too much to stop, patted Jared on the shoulder and proclaimed, “One day, son, you'll cherish memories like this.”
    “Not likely,” Jared said back then.
    And not now either. He blinked, willing the memory to vanish. Of all of the Christmas gifts he had ever received, this one had been the cruelest. He spied his trashcan across the room. It would be so easy to just throw the CD away. Could he do it?
    Another text came through, and he dropped the CD, like it had burned him. His phone lit up among the pile of clothes.
    We need your help. Can you come? Please?
    Ordinarily, he would have ignored Beth's request. He didn't want anything to do with Santa Command, but tonight, he couldn't sit in his room anymore, not with that CD staring at him.
    He picked up his phone and texted back.
    I'm on my way .

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
     
    Tracy
     
    The moment Tracy stepped into the library, she felt warmth spread through her body, like she had walked into a dream. She wanted to curl up in the chair, dangle her toes near the fire, and settle in with a long book.
    Once again, Tracy wondered what this room was doing at Santa Command. Did they use it to train the Santas how to get up and down chimneys? That was another item on her list she needed to figure out for her project. As quickly as the thought entered her mind, it was gone, replaced with the sweet smell of cinnamon coming from a plate of cookies on a small table between the chair and fireplace.
    She realized how hungry she was and took one. As the Snickerdoodle melted in her mouth, she sank down into the comfy chair and lazily picked up a book from a stack on the table. She traced her fingers over the maroon and gold cover, then flipped through the crinkly, yellowed pages. The words were handwritten in fancy cursive, and some of the letters didn't look right, but Tracy didn't have to read it all to know what it said. She had memorized the poem long ago—‘ Twas the Night Before Christmas .
    Her father recited it every year on Christmas Eve just before they all went to bed. She always chimed in, reciting her favorite parts with him.
    The watercolor drawings in the book were comfortingly familiar. The dad in the stocking cap had black