Cut to the Bone. Joan Boswell

of dogs have brought several people with them,” Chris said. “You will remember from previous classes that we have only one person with a dog. You may take turns, as we will do each exercise at least three times.” She smiled toothily, with little warmth. “Take positions around the room. We will do a long down and stay,” she instructed.

      Chairs scraped.

      “I’ll go first, then Jay and then Crystal,” Hollis said, tightening her grip on Barlow.

      Despite his afternoon failure to obey this command, when there was an audience he could do it pretty well, and she’d brought a pocketful of liver treats to keep him focused.

      At the hour’s end, Hollis felt exhausted but Barlow resisted being led out.

      “He did really good, didn’t he?” Jay said. “Crystal and I did too.”

      “You certainly did, you’ll be dog trainers before you know it,” Hollis said.

      “I’d like to be a vet,” Crystal said as she walked beside Hollis. “It could never happen. It would cost way too much.”

      Hollis turned to look at Crystal. It surprised her when preteens expressed long-term goals. “There are always scholarships,” she said and was about to add a cliched comment about working hard when it occurred to her that she knew nothing about Crystal and shouldn’t make facile remarks.

      “I don’t want to be a vet,” Jay said, jumping over the cracks in the sidewalk. “I’ll be a detective like Nancy Drew.”

      This ambition didn’t surprise Hollis, but she smiled to herself thinking how surprised Jay would be if she knew how much detecting her foster mother had done. Maybe someday she’d tell her. They’d reached the second-hand Mazda van Hollis had bought to replace her much-loved truck. She’d purchased it when the CAS’s notification that they’d accepted her foster parent application arrived on the same day as an email saying that the Flat-coat breeder had a puppy for her. There was no way to squeeze two dogs, Jay, and herself into the truck, let alone bring along Jay’s friends.

      “How about a mug of hot chocolate when we get home,” Hollis said.

      “I’ll go up and tell my aunt,” Crystal said.

      Hollis dealt with the police officer stationed at the entrance to the underground parking garage, manipulated the van into her allotted space, and shepherded her pack to the elevators.

      “I’ll be down in a minute,” Crystal promised as Jay, Hollis, and Barlow got out on the first floor.

      Inside the apartment Hollis flicked on the lights, said hello to MacTee, and headed for the kitchen, where she filled and plugged in the kettle. She spooned powdered hot chocolate into three mugs, pulled a package of oatmeal raisin cookies from the cupboard, and was arranging them on a blue-and-white plate when the apartment door banged and Crystal raced into the kitchen.

      “She’s gone,” she shouted. “She didn’t wait, didn’t take me. She’s gone. Aunt Mary’s gone. The door was unlocked. She’s gone. She left me behind. I went down to the garage. Her car’s gone.”

      Crystal’s angry eyes, white face, and shivering told Hollis that the child was both furious and frightened.

      Time to take charge.

      “There’s probably an explanation? Sit down while we figure out what it might be.”

      Crystal didn’t move. “I knew it. I just knew it. Now what will happen to me?” she wailed.

      “Right now what will happen to you is drinking something sweet to make you feel better. I’ll make the hot chocolate and we’ll talk about what could have happened.”

      Jay took her friend’s hand. “It’ll be okay.” She pulled a chair away from the table for Crystal, who allowed herself to be moved like a piece of furniture.

      Hollis poured the boiling water on top of the chocolate powder in each blue mug and stirred thoroughly before setting them on the table.

      Crystal stared at the drink but made no move to raise it to her lips.

      Jay picked up her friend’s cup. “You need this, Crystal. I read that a big slurp of sugar helps you get over shock. If you think your aunt has left you, you’ve had a big one, so drink.”

      Her words penetrated. Crystal obediently sipped.

      Hollis marshalled what little she knew about Crystal, who lived with her Aunt Mary, a woman Hollis pegged as an Aboriginal without any concrete evidence to support her assumption. The accountant had Hollis check up on tardy tenants, and Mary’s name never appeared on his list, so she must pay her rent on time. Whenever Hollis met Mary in the lobby, the woman responded minimally to Hollis’s attempts to chat.

      Not much to go on. She tried to think if anything in the files would help. A few months earlier at the start of the job, she’d read through all the lease agreements and found out as much as she could about the building’s tenants. For some she made notes to help her remember their idiosyncrasies and obsessions, but she had none for Mary.

      Hollis sat down. She’d probably get more information if she didn’t loom over the child. Being almost six feet tall, she knew she could be intimidating.

      “Couldn’t your aunt have gone out and forgotten to lock the door?” Hollis asked.

      Crystal reached for a cookie, swallowed a mouthful of hot chocolate, and shook her head. “No way. Whether she’s home or out she never, never leaves it unlocked. She has three locks and she’s super careful to always lock the door.”

      “There are other people living with you, aren’t there. Are they gone?”

      Crystal shrugged. “They’re not there.”

      “How many people live with you?”

      “Sometimes one, sometimes two or three.”

      “Family? Friends?”

      Crystal eyed her warily and shrugged.

      “I suppose they’re your aunt’s friends. Maybe she left you a note to tell you where she’s gone,” Hollis said.

      Crystal tipped her mug and finished her drink before she replied. “I doubt it. Aunt Mary took me because my mother’s dead and my grandmother’s sick. She didn’t want me but there was no one else.” The bitterness in Crystal’s voice shocked Hollis.

      What had happened to the child’s mother? Why didn’t Crystal think Mary would leave her a note if she’d unexpectedly gone out? Clearly, Crystal didn’t want to tell her anything about her aunt. Maybe the apartment would reveal more.

      “When you finish your drink we’ll go upstairs and search for clues to tell us where your aunt went.”

      Jay, jiggling from one foot to the other as she followed their conversation, took the matter in hand. “Hey, just like Nancy Drew. Maybe we should wear gloves and take a magnifying glass.” She looked at Hollis. “Have you got stuff like that?”

      Hollis shook her head. “I have, but we haven’t reached that stage.” She registered that the puppy had inserted his nose into the pocket of the jean jacket Crystal had hung on the back of the chair. Hollis pointed to the jacket. “Don’t leave anything where Barlow can get it,” she said as she did every time they left the dog alone.

      Crystal grabbed the jacket, shrugged into it, foraged in the pockets of her blue jeans, and yanked out three keys on a grubby blue satin ribbon. “I didn’t need these. I didn’t lock the door when I left in case my aunt came back.” She frowned at Hollis. “We should lock it after you see that there’s no way to tell where she’s gone. You could write a note telling her I’m here and stick it to the door. I don’t know why you don’t believe me, but if it makes you happy we’ll look.” She picked up her cup and carried it to the sink before she headed out.

      Jay left her mug on the table and scrambled to join Crystal. Hollis sighed as she followed