Christmas On Nutcracker Court by Judy Duarte Read Free Book Online Page B

telephone.”
    As Carly waited to speak to Josh, she scanned the small break room where the stylists hung out when they were between clients. Right now she had it all to herself, which was a relief. She didn’t like her coworkers knowing how tough things had been lately.
    Moments later, Josh picked up the phone and uttered a sheepish, “Hello.”
    â€œWhat happened?” Carly asked him. “Why didn’t you ride the bus this morning?”
    Silence stretched across the line.
    â€œDon’t you dare ignore me, young man. I want to know what’s going on. And I want to know right now.”
    â€œI was going to ride the bus, Mom. I was even waiting in line with Mikey when that man’s dog got loose. It was wandering in the canyon. And when it started walking on the side of the road, I was afraid it would get hit by a car or something.”
    Carly rolled her eyes. “You left your brother alone to chase after a dog ?”
    â€œDon’t worry. There were a couple of moms at the bus stop, so I knew Mikey would be safe without me.”
    â€œBut it sounds as though you weren’t safe. What happened after that?”
    Silence again. The kind that made a mother suspect that a lie was brewing. Or that the truth was going to be a real struggle to tell.
    So which was it?
    Oh, no, she thought, as another possibility crossed her mind. Did he have a confrontation with Mr. Tolliver? Had it escalated?
    Carly took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, hoping to regroup and tackle the questioning from another angle. “So did you take the dog home?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œDid the dog hurt you?”
    â€œNo, Hemingway’s cool. He and I are becoming friends.”
    Maybe so, since their paths seemed to keep crossing. But Josh certainly wasn’t a friend to the dog’s owner.
    â€œDid you have a run-in with Mr. Tolliver?” she asked.
    â€œKind of.”
    A cool chill fluttered down her spine. If the dog’s owner had touched her son, if he’d hurt him, she’d . . . she’d . . . Well, she had half a notion to march up to his front door and let him have it. But that wouldn’t solve anything.
    She could, of course, call the police and report the incident.
    Again, she wrestled with patience and composure, but she managed to ask, “What did that man do to you, honey?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWhat happened when you returned the dog to Mr. Tolliver?”
    â€œNothing. I just put the dog inside the fence. And . . . and then I tripped and fell down and hurt my lip. That’s all.”
    He was lying. She knew it as well as she knew her own name.
    â€œDid that man threaten you?” she asked.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œMr. Tolliver.”
    Another pause. Then he finally said, “Yeah. He told me to stay away from his yard.”
    Or what? “Did he say what he would do if you went back on his property?”
    â€œNot exactly. I guess he’d yell at me. Or he’d tell you, and then I’d be in trouble.”
    The boy was already in trouble, and he wasn’t making it easy for her to help him.
    At times like this, she wished their father was still around to be a role model and to help Carly understand the male point of view. But she had to admit that even when he’d been a part of their lives, he hadn’t been much help either way, so she was on her own with this one.
    â€œWe’re going to talk about this again tonight,” she said. “Now give the telephone to Mrs. Evans.”
    When the principal was back on the line, Carly told her what little she’d learned and what she’d gathered by connecting a few dots.
    â€œJosh said that he fell down,” Carly told Mrs. Evans. “But last night, the dog’s owner called me to complain about the boys coming onto his property. It’s possible that . . . Well, I’d hate to think that a grown man would hurt a child, but it does happen. And that