Season of Danger. Jill Elizabeth Nelson

time the first threatening note showed up under her door.

       “I have more to do tonight,” she said. “If I don’t get it done now, I’ll just have to—”

       He took her by the shoulders and guided her toward the door. “You’re done. Joni and Mamie will be more than happy to help you tomorrow.”

       “Mamie has a job interview.”

       “That won’t take all day. We’ve got extra help coming in tomorrow from a new church start-up, so take advantage of it. We need it. Mamie can enter data, and Joni can file for you tomorrow.”

       The homeless population of the past years had exploded with whole families out on the street after foreclosures on homes, repossession of vehicles, loss of jobs. Those who were accustomed to work were so appreciative of the help they received that they freely gave of their time serving in the kitchen, filing and entering data, housekeeping, working in the mission store. This four-level double building utilized a lot of volunteers.

       Sisters Joni and Mamie Park had owned their own storefront antique shop, with a large apartment upstairs, until this past summer when fire broke out and destroyed everything they owned except for their delivery van.

       When they started coming to the soup kitchen for meals, Sean had discovered they were sleeping in their van and cleaning up at the public bathrooms at the beach while looking for work. In the months before the fire, their business had declined to the point they’d been unable to pay for insurance. The timing had been horrible for them.

       Gerard’s dream was to create more jobs and set up a career rehab center somewhere far from here. He would most likely make that happen. Sean wanted to be a part of that by staying behind and helping Tess manage the mission while her brother was off in search of a new place of promise.

       “Okay,” Tess said. “I think after ten-thirty at night from now on, we’re going to have to put bells on our toes.” She preceded Sean from her office and waited for him to lock it.

       “I don’t care what you say. No bells. Don’t we hear enough bells around here lately?”

       She followed him to his office door. “Don’t tell me Gerard’s stuck with two Scrooges here at the mission.”

       “It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the crowds during Christmas season.” He pulled a thick briefcase from his office, locked up and held an arm out, indicating that she should follow him.

       “I can’t stop thinking about that pistol you carry,” she said.

       “You have pepper mace, I have the protection I’m most comfortable with.” Sean didn’t mention that Gerard also carried a concealed weapon. Gerard had insisted his key personnel carry protection on these dangerous streets, not only to protect themselves, but to protect the helpless ones who were stuck outside at the mercy of too many deadbeats.

       “In a way, my brother has expanded your police force in Corpus Christi by adding a private security division,” Tess said.

       “Who else is going to protect them? He protects his own, and that encompasses everyone in need.”

       “Face it, my brother’s a hero. Is it any wonder I’ve seen our pretty doctor spending so much time with him lately?” Tess followed Sean down the stairs.

       Sean smiled, but he wouldn’t mention that even Dr. Megan Bradley, who was working at the mission to pay off her med school loans, also carried a concealed weapon at Gerard’s behest. She took it with her when she and Tess had a girls’ day out.

       “Or perhaps I should say, it isn’t any wonder why Gerard can’t seem to stay away from the clinic.” Tess cast a side glance at Sean. “She could win an international beauty contest.”

       “I don’t think he sees that.” Pretty as Megan was, she held none of the mystique for Sean that Tess Vance held.

       Tess groaned. “He’s a man, isn’t he?”

       “I think he enjoys her company, but I’ve honestly never heard him remark on her physical attributes. You know your brother, he always looks at the heart first.”

       Tess hesitated at the doorway in the rear of the kitchen, where several of the late workers, mostly Hispanic volunteers from the church three blocks from the mission, were sweeping the floor, emptying trash and having their dinner of leftover chili.

       “All right!” Tess said, grinning at last. “The special is chili, and I haven’t eaten since my late breakfast.” She cocked an eyebrow at Sean. “How about it, Torrance? Gerard’s not here to challenge me right now, and Hans is always stuck up in Austin, watching over that manufacturing plant. Which of us can take it the hottest?”

       “Hey, Señorita Vance,” called Angel Mancillas, the pastor from the church. “You’re welcome to join us, as always, and I brought your favorite habaneras sauce my Sandra makes.”

       Tess rubbed her hands together and grinned at Sean. “If I remember correctly, you like hot stuff.”

       He held her gaze. “Love it.” He pulled a chair out for her, then joined her, and for the next thirty minutes, she seemed to relax and think about something besides the footsteps in the upper hallway. If only he could always make her feel so safe.

      TWO

      The telephone awakened Tess long after dawn. She got a blurry look at the clock—it was eight—before she grabbed her cell phone. Caller ID showed it was the Vance Mission Clinic.

       “What’s up?” she asked, pushing Gerard’s affectionate Dobermans from the bed. When had Romper and Roxie climbed under the covers with her?

       “Tess, this is Megan. Are you okay?”

       At the urgency in the doctor’s tone, Tess sat up and swung her legs to the side. “I’m fine. Why? What’s happened? Is Gerard—”

       “Your brother’s perfectly healthy, long ago landed at Houston, but we appear to be having some kind of illness among the regulars. Since I’m not sure Gerard’s out of court yet, I decided not to call him about this.”

       “What kind of illness?”

       “Gastrointestinal symptoms. We’ve had six come in so far, and they’re feeling pretty rough. I’m trying to decide if it’s a virus of some kind, or if we’ve had some food go bad.”

       “We’ve never had food poisoning in our kitchen. How many of them ate at the mission yesterday?”

       “All six.”

       “I ate breakfast and dinner there, even challenged Sean to a hot-sauce competition. Have you seen him?”

       “He was in the kitchen cooking just now, told me to call you, but he’s feeling as healthy as always.”

       “So am I, and I ate a sample of everything. Could it be a stomach virus?”

       “It’s always possible, but that wouldn’t hit everyone all at once like this. Only food poisoning would hit everyone so suddenly, and these are some of our regulars. All of them had their flu shots this year. I saw to it.”

       “We never have tainted food. We watch that closely.”

       “I haven’t had time to take extensive histories. It’s possible they’ve all eaten elsewhere.”

       “That’s most likely, since I’m not feeling a thing.”

       “You’re healthier than most homeless people, Tess. And it’s likely you didn’t eat the same batch of food. These all ate early last night.”

       “Are you taking samples?”

       “Yes, and I’m getting bogged down.”

       “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

       “Uh-oh. Here comes another one.”