Jill Elizabeth - Season of Danger

Tess took a deep breath, let it out slowly. She flexed her shoulders and met Sean’s gaze again, as if looking at him made her feel safer.

He stepped closer. “Maybe we could share an office for a while, at least until things slow down after the holidays.”

She hesitated for a moment, obviously thinking about it, but then she shook her head. “You just want the office with the bathroom in it,” she said, as if she, too, was teasing. But he could hear the tremor in her voice.

“Not true.” He followed her as she stepped back into her small office. “There’s no room for two desks in here. You’d have to move in with me.”

“Not happening. I like my private bathroom.”

“We could change the locks to our upstairs sanctuary.”

“Good idea. Tomorrow?”

“First thing in the morning.” He glanced again at the clump of strange evidence in his hand. “Got a plastic bag?” he asked.

She reached into the set of trays on the wall and pulled out a self-sealing envelope. “That’s the best I can do.”

He dropped the straw, mud and manure into the envelope, took it from her, sealed it and set it on the corner of her desk. He then went into the small half bath and washed his hands. She joined him. No telling where that stuff came from.

Though Sean and Gerard had both left the police force more than three years ago—Gerard to join their brother in an extremely successful start-up, a green-manufacturing plant to help support this mission, and Sean to take over his family-owned radio station—they both retained the instincts of policemen.

He believed that was one reason Tess felt safe working here for the time being, living in the back wing of Gerard’s house, never too far away from either Sean or Gerard. For the first time in her adult life, this past year she’d allowed herself to be protected by her older brothers. And Sean.

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.”