Season of Danger. Jill Elizabeth Nelson

       Sean caught her as she fell.

      THREE

      Tess floated through a dark tunnel, aware of nothing but the sound of a man’s voice shouting in the far distance. She couldn’t understand what he was saying and didn’t know why he was shouting. Was it a warning? Or was he angry?

       He fell silent, and she drifted until something cold and wet dripped onto her face. Then she felt herself being lifted.

       Sounds finally smacked through her ears again: the thud of footsteps, hard breathing, other voices, doors opening and closing.

       “Tess? Honey, wake up now. You’re scaring me. Please open your eyes.” It was Sean’s deep voice, directly above her.

       Light slid beneath her eyes, and she squinted up to find Sean carrying her into the clinic.

       “Tess,” he breathed. “Thank goodness.” He laid her on a cot at the far end of the room from where paramedics and Megan stood around a supine man.

       “I’m wet,” Tess said.

       Sean brushed her hair from her eyes, standing between Tess and the crowd around the cot across the clinic, where privacy curtains had been pushed back. “I splashed water on you to wake you.”

       “Stud?” She remembered.

       Sean hesitated. “He didn’t make it. Megan called medical control to see if they need to take his body to the hospital or have him taken to the morgue.”

       Megan rushed from the crowd to Tess’s cot. “Tess Vance, when’s the last time you ate anything?”

       “About midnight.”

       Without pulling a curtain, Megan pressed her stethoscope over Tess’s chest.

       Tess breathed for her. “You okay?”

       “Hush and let me listen.”

       “Your eyes are red, and your face is white as—”

       “Tess.” Firmly.

       “Megan, relax. I was shocked to hear about Stud. That’s all.”

       “Heart and breathing sound okay, despite the fact that you’ve suddenly turned into a chatterbox. I’ll check your blood sugar.”

       “You don’t have to do—”

       Sean touched her shoulder. “Be good and listen to the doctor.”

       Megan pricked Tess’s finger and read the number on the glucometer. “Seventy-nine. Not low. You fainted over the death of someone you don’t know very well.”

       “PTSD, okay? I faint easily. Look, you already have your hands full, and you don’t need me complicating matters.” Tess glanced at Sean. At least he wasn’t offering any unsolicited information the way Gerard would do if he were here.

       “PTSD from what?” Megan asked. “Is there something you never told me in all those days at the beach and nights out on the town?”

       Tess eased herself up slowly. “When I’m out for a good time, I want to laugh, not cry about the past.”

       The clinic phone rang. Sean paused to make sure Tess would be okay and then walked into Megan’s tiny office cubicle to answer, obviously so Megan could continue to grill Tess.

       “Have you seen a doctor about your fainting spells?” Megan asked.

       “Nope. Can you take a guess about what caused Stud’s death?”

       “I wish I could. There’ll have to be an autopsy. The coroner is sending a car.” Megan turned and dismissed the paramedics.

       They walked out, and in the distance, Tess could hear the doors of the ambulance close in a heavy thud as the crowd dispersed. Unfortunately, many of them ambled toward Tess. Strangers, some of them, from off the street. Not homeless, just morbidly curious. Disgusting. She felt herself tense up as she glanced at the body lying on a gurney, covered by a sheet. It hurt to think of quiet, struggling Stud being cut open and displayed for examination.

       “When were you going to get around to telling me about the PTSD?” Megan asked softly, waving the others away. They didn’t move far. People around here weren’t typically shy.

       Tess took an irritable breath. “I apologize for not telling you.”

       “Then tell me now.”

       Tess glared toward the curious onlookers, who continued to gawk. “Private conversation here, folks.” Her voice was a little too confrontational, and she didn’t care. At last, the final stragglers ambled out the doorway.

       Tess waited, annoyed by nosy people the way she’d never before been annoyed by them. “My fiancé was murdered in March.”

       “What! I never heard that. No one told me anything.”

       “We didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want word to spread that my fiancé was Tanner Jackson.”

       Megan’s full lips parted. “The country singer? That Tanner Jackson?”

       “Quiet, please.” Tess glanced toward the entrance again. “He was a client of mine. We hit it off, fell in love, got engaged late last year. Tanner didn’t want to risk the ire of all his adoring female fans, so we kept it private.”

       “Why am I not surprised?” Megan muttered. “You said he was murdered. I heard it was an accident. How could murder not have been blazoned all over the radio and gossip columns?”

       “Good cops, good friends, tight lips. I am a publicist by profession, you know.”

       Sean hung up the phone and turned back to them. “Gerard’s on his way. It’s going to be okay, Tess.”

       Tess swung her legs over the side of the cot. “Not even my superhuman brother can just walk into a room and snap his fingers and make everything bad go away.”

       “Dizzy?” Megan asked.

       “I’m fine. How are the other patients?”

       “They’re sleeping in the dorms, with folks keeping close watch on them,” Megan said. “Angel was called in a while ago, and he’s in the men’s dorm, Sandra is in the women’s dorm, praying with those who are afraid, helping the nurse and techs as they work. A couple of the ill are from their church.”

       “So they aren’t all undernourished homeless.”

       Megan shook her head. “And you said you ate a little of everything yesterday.”

       “That’s right. I’ll go help Sandra.” Tess started to get up.

       “You’ll do no such thing,” Megan said. “You will rest, as you should have been doing all along. If you don’t stop pushing yourself so hard, I’m going to call in reinforcements.”

       Tess raised her eyebrows. “Yeah? Like who?”

       “Mister Superhuman.”

       “You think he’s going to make me behave?”

       “Yep.”

       Megan stepped across the clinic to close the door.

       Sean stepped from Megan’s tiny office and sat down beside Tess on the cot, and she welcomed his sturdy presence. She needed his strength. She was also glad when Megan returned to them.

       Dr. Megan Bradley had graduated second in her class at Kirksville Osteopathic in Missouri. She and Tess were nearly the same age, and both being professional single women, they tended to talk the same language, except for the second language Megan had learned in med school.

       Since Tess had allowed Gerard to bully her into moving home with him and helping out at the mission after Tanner’s death, she and Megan had become close. She’d helped Megan