Season of Danger: Silent Night, Deadly NightMistletoe Mayhem

Home > Other > Season of Danger: Silent Night, Deadly NightMistletoe Mayhem > Page 2
Season of Danger: Silent Night, Deadly NightMistletoe Mayhem Page 2

by Alexander, Hannah; Alexander, Hannah


  The men had made a pact to keep watch over her and protect her at any cost. That wasn’t always easy, because Tess was independent to the point of arrogance at times. Sean wasn’t going to tell her that. At least not at this point of their non-relationship.

  Sean had seen pictures of Gerard and Hans’s mother, and of Tess’s. Lawrence Vance’s first wife was of Swedish descent, blond hair nearly white, and the men favored their mother. Tess’s mother, Maria—who had named her daughter Theresa and was the only one who still called her that—had moved to Austin from Mexico City six months after Lawrence’s first wife was killed in a car wreck. Maria had met Lawrence in church and had fallen in love with his two children. After thirty-three years of joyful matrimony, the loving couple continued to live west of Austin. Maria was the only mother Gerard had ever known.

  Tess stretched her hands and arms as she walked to the window of her office and closed the blinds. “What a day this has been. My back aches, my head hurts, and my neck is as stiff as a starched, new rope. Breakfast was a long time ago.”

  “I thought I saw a long line outside the soup kitchen this evening,” he said.

  “Gerard told me they fed nearly twice as many as usual. A hundred and fifteen at last count, with many more teens and children than usual. I wonder if the other kitchens are as overwhelmed.”

  “Maybe we’re serving the best food today.”

  “Why do people get laid off at Christmas?”

  Sean shook his head sadly. “It’s below freezing outside tonight. Did we have enough room for overnighters?”

  “There were three men with no place to go. Gerard couldn’t find a bed for them anywhere in the city.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Sean said. “He put them in the subbasement.”

  “With blankets and pillows.”

  “Against regulations, of course.”

  “You’d do the same. Gerard can’t turn them out to freeze.”

  Sean leaned against the edge of Tess’s desk. “He’s always been a soft touch, but don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

  Her dark eyes slid over him with apparent appreciation as he spoke. “Beneath his tough-guy exterior is a heart of spun honey.”

  “It runs in the family,” Sean said.

  “Tough-guy exterior?”

  “You never could take a compliment.”

  A light gleamed in her eyes as she silently acknowledged his words. “Guess that spun honey rubs off on his friends, too.” She picked up the envelope and handed it to Sean. “Glad I didn’t mace you.”

  “I’ve been maced before. I’d have lived through it.”

  “At least there were enough cots for the women and children tonight,” she said. “But I’m not sure how much longer this can go on. We need larger facilities. Can you get this straw checked out? See where it came from?”

  “Will do. We’ve still got friends connected to the force.”

  Tess glanced at the clock and gave a sigh of obvious frustration. “Midnight.”

  “What time are you due back tomorrow?” Sean asked.

  “Early. I have to supervise breakfast prep.”

  “Gerard can’t do that?”

  “He’s got a meeting in Houston first thing in the morning. Court case.”

  “Then it’s time for you to wrap things up.” Sean tucked the envelope into his shirt pocket and reached for Tess’s purse and jacket. “Out you go. And don’t come in at five. I can do it; you get some extra sleep. I’ve seen how many hours you put in here.”

  Tess gazed into his eyes and made him think of things he knew were impossible at the moment. She was still grieving. She looked worn down. She had looked that way since before Tanner’s death—had probably begun to have those circles under her gorgeous eyes about the 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 c
hili, 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.”

  “I’ll call in some backup. Maybe some of our volunteer medical personnel will be off duty today.”

  “Thanks,” Megan said. “I think I’ll have Mamie drive to the pharmacy for more supplies.”

  “No, just call in your order and get Mamie to the clinic to help you. She mentioned the other day she was a volunteer medical aide in high school. I can pick up the order on my way.”

  After hanging up, Tess pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater as the dogs fought each other for her attention. She kissed Roxie and Romper on their foreheads, scratched their ears and smiled at Roxie’s groan of contentment.

  “Sorry, kids, gotta run. You want out?”

  Of course, they did. She unlocked the door and watched them race each other through the doorway and out into the huge fenced yard, then, despite her watchdogs on alert, she locked the door again. How long since she’d felt safe when she was alone?

  And the stress over the mission illnesses was making her worse. Often, people from participating churches would bring side dishes or desserts to help feed the hungry, but yesterday all the food had come from the Vance Mission kitchen, and they tested their raw meats and produce often. It had always been an obsession of Gerard’s to make sure the people he fed received wholesome, healthy food.

  But Megan had said more than once that those living on the street were more susceptible to any illness that came along. They had weakened immune systems from exposure and often a history of poor lifestyle choices.

  Despite the attempt to reassure herself, Tess felt the stress growing as she brushed her teeth and combed her hair. She grabbed her jacket and keys and rushed into the garage, where she parked her Cooper. As the garage door opened, she pressed the first phone number on her cell for nursing help.

  She called herself all kinds of a fool on the drive to town. This was not her fault. Not her responsibility. She did not cause anyone to get sick…she couldn’t have caused this in any way…could she?

  No. But she couldn’t get the sound of those footsteps out of her head from last night and the fear that, even in the absence of more of the threats she’d begun to receive ten months ago, someone out there still wanted to hurt her by hurting those she cared about.

  By the time she reached the pharmacy, she had promises from a nurse and two techs to meet her at the mission. She drove to the pick-up window and exchanged friendly insults with Troy, the tech on duty, who had asked her out at least once a month since she’d arrived in Corpus Christi.

  “Sounds like you’ve got an outbreak at the mission,” Troy commented as he heaved two big bags out the window to her. “Flu season has hit hard.”

  “You’ve had a lot of orders like this?”

  He nodded.

  “But these patients had their flu shots.”

  He raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise. “That’s weird. We’ve always got our rogue viruses, of course, but this year’s inoculations seemed to be hittin’ the bull’s-eye.”

  She thanked him and drove to the mission as the tension knotted multiple times in her stomach.

  Sean held an emesis basin for a man in his fifties who’d never answered to any name but Stud. Three more people had walked into the clinic after Sean traded kitchen duties for clinic duties at Megan’s request, and all of them looked miserable.

  Megan had drawn blood, given eight shots so far for nausea and handed out multiple little envelopes of pills to help with the stomach cramps. She told Sean she wanted to do a blood draw on Stud as soon as she could get to him; he had a chronic alcohol history, and that could make him prone to electrolyte imbalances. She’d managed to collect some stool samples on the others and remarked three times in the past five minutes that she hoped Tess arrived soon.

  And Tess did, looking harassed and pale, carrying in two large bags imprinted with the local pharmacy logo. Soon after she arrived, an RN who volunteered at the clinic two Saturdays a month walked in the door, pulling off her coat and wrapping her stethoscope around her neck.

  “Feeling better, Stud?” Sean asked his patient softly.

  The man nodded and used the paper towel Sean handed him. “Need to clean up.”

  “Go get a toothbrush and toothpaste in one of the bathrooms down the hall and then go into the men’s dorm. Lie down and rest until the doctor can get to you for your blood test.”

  Stud shook his head. “Got a job helping a man fix a fence a couple of miles out of town. I need the money.”

  “At least rest until we have a better idea about what you’ve got. If it’s infectious, nobody’s going to thank you for showing up. Give me a telephone number, and I’ll call to let him know you didn’t bug out on him, but you need to be here for Dr. Bradley to check you out.”

  “Got no number. How would I call? Really, I’m feeling better.”

  “You have the man’s name? If the doc can get a diagnosis from your blood, you could be helping out a lot of sick people.”

  Stud
gave in, and Sean hunted down the phone number of Stud’s temporary employer and left the message. When he hung up, he caught sight of Tess, her large, beautiful eyes as haunted as they’d been yesterday when he’d found her in the corridor. The smudges beneath her lower eyelids seemed to have deepened overnight, and she’d lost the typical glow in her complexion.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, stepping over to him.

  “Good. Did you sleep last night?”

  “Off and on. I had a nasty wake-up call.”

  “Tess, I can’t believe this is food poisoning.” He was just glad he had a strong stomach. He’d never signed up for clinic duty, and for a few moments, he’d thought he might have to hunt down his own emesis basin.

  “Me neither, unless they all ate something elsewhere. Or unless it wasn’t the food itself that poisoned them.”

  As soon as she spoke the words, she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, long strands of her black hair falling over her forehead.

  “So, what you’re saying,” he said softly enough that the others couldn’t hear, “is that you aren’t ruling out poisoning of some kind.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  He stood up and took her arm, led her from the clinic proper for a moment. “You’re trembling.”

  She put a hand over his. Hers was icy. “I’m sorry. Leftover post-traumatic stress disorder, I know. Also, I can’t get past Carlotta’s death two weeks ago.”

  “That was ruled a natural death.”

  “Easy for the authorities to do that when she’s homeless with no family.”

  “You’re obsessing over it.”

  “So sue me.”

  “What you’re really anxious about is that Tanner’s killer is still out there,” Sean said, guessing at the direction of her thoughts.

  Tess raised her hand from his and pulled her fingers through her hair. “I know it’s not all about me. But those notes, Sean, I can’t stop thinking about them, reading them, trying to figure out who might have sent them to me and what kind of person that might have been.”

 

‹ Prev