A Miracle at Macy’s: There’s only one dog who can save Christmas. Lynn Hulsman Marie

over. I can’t keep my hands still. I’m bubbling over with nerves. Now my brain is functioning on high speed. Suddenly, I feel like I see the big picture.

      “I know what we have to do,” I say, buckling my belt. A strange calm settles over me. “We have to contact the FBI.” I pull out my phone and punch in the number for information.

      Henry snatches my phone from my hand, and hangs up.

      “Charlotte,” he says with exaggerated patience, “the Federal Bureau of Investigation is not going to get involved with finding a lost dog.”

      “They might if we tell them he’s being experimented on.”

      “Charlotte, please,” he says. “Driver, could you let us off on the right-hand side, please? In front of the steps. Thank you.” He takes some bills out of his wallet, and pushes them through the slot. “May I have a receipt, please?”