Читать книгу Season of Danger - Hannah Alexander, Jill Elizabeth Nelson - Страница 11

ONE

At eleven-thirty on Tuesday night, two hours after the canned Santa Claus music had gone blessedly silent out on the street, a squeak, which sounded like rubber-sole shoes on tile, reached Tess Vance from the hallway outside her locked office door. She heard footsteps…almost rushed…sneaky.

She straightened from her computer keyboard and frowned. She knew the cadence of her brother’s swift pace. Gerard Vance had the legs of a giraffe. He could cover the length of the hallway in less than ten steps, and he didn’t walk as if he was sneaking anywhere. Neither did Sean Torrance, who also had his office up here. Besides those two men, Tess was the only person who had a key to the admin offices.

Tess stacked several sheets of information that needed to be entered into the data system. She was preparing to stand up and stretch her aching back when she heard another echo of footsteps, rushed as before. Her heartbeat rocked through her body.

Was her imagination working overtime with the rest of her? She glanced at the phone on the corner of her desk, unreasonably terrified of being alone right now.

A homeless woman, Carlotta, who had come to the mission more than once for food and a place to sleep, had been found dead two weeks ago, not far from here. It appeared she’d been ill and exposed to the elements. No one suspected foul play except Tess…and possibly Sean and Gerard, though neither of them had told her what they thought.

Tess couldn’t get that awful announcement from her mind. It had been related on the local Channel 11 as a brief aside, as if Carlotta didn’t matter as much as someone with money and an address.

One channel that had treated her death as the tragic event it was had been KSFJ, 106.1 FM, the radio station that had been owned and managed by the Torrance family for the past two decades. After Sean inherited the station and took over management three years ago, he’d brought with him a whole new level of popularity—and compassion.

Despite Tess’s anxiety—or perhaps because of it—she settled her thoughts on Sean, who had the ability to calm her tension with nothing more than a look, a gentle word, a touch on her hand. He was the person who had helped Tess in the past eight months, since joining Gerard in the work at this mission, to convince local churches to organize a system of volunteerism for the rescue missions and soup kitchens in the region.

Sean had been a godsend to Gerard, Tess and their older brother, Hans, and to the hundreds of homeless in multiple cities who benefited from his organizational skills. Everyone who knew him benefited from his big heart. But Tess couldn’t help feeling she benefited the most.

Tess felt the tension in her body ease. In contrast to her brother’s Nordic blond, rugged good looks, Sean had hair as dark as the night sea and eyes the color of midnight surf. He did share Gerard’s size and strength and thoughtful consideration toward others—despite his wicked sense of humor when he and Gerard teased Tess.

She considered calling one of the two men. Just in case. She suddenly felt reluctant to wander these hallways alone tonight.

She reached for the phone and allowed her hand to hover over it but quickly chastised herself for being jittery. She’d worked many late nights alone in the mission with less crew than they had tonight. There was nothing to worry about. She glanced over her shoulder toward the barred window that overlooked the street and saw nothing but a reflection of those protective bars. No movement. Maybe one of the children had somehow slipped upstairs, had become lost trying to sneak back for more of the banana pudding cake that was Sean’s special—and secret—recipe.

But the kitchen was downstairs, not up here.

Something felt different tonight. Maybe it was the measure of activity that had kicked into high gear here at the mission because Christmas was here in a little over two weeks, or maybe it was the lateness of the hour. Gerard had been forced to rely more and more on volunteer staff since Tess arrived nine months ago—he and Hans were saving for their next move in the rescue mission project. They wanted to establish a rehabilitation center.

With the exception of Sean, who was a tireless worker, the most experienced volunteers wanted to spend more hours shopping, decorating and prepping for Christmas parties. The Vance Rescue Mission had been left with seasonal help, folks with good hearts who knew little about the work involved.

Of course, Gerard’s ground rules helped a lot—when an able adult refused to work, that adult didn’t eat, so those in need of food knew they might have the opportunity to earn their keep here. Gerard believed this rule was not only helpful for the mission, but it engendered self-respect for those who worked for their meals.

Another footstep echoed out in the hallway—the sound of hesitance, only one step, then silence.

Tess closed her eyes and waited. She knew she was still suffering from stress disorder after her fiancé’s death in March. The sense of horror continued to follow her nine months after Tanner Jackson was intentionally run down and killed. She was jumpy, startled easily and seldom felt at peace in her surroundings.

Her hand continued to hover. One place she did feel at peace was in Sean’s presence. And why wouldn’t she? He was six foot four and weighed probably 220, all muscle. Was she simply looking for an excuse to see him one more time tonight?

Until this past March, Tess had never been a nervous person. She had dealt with all kinds of people in her marketing agency. She could handle anyone from self-absorbed diva performers to angry authors whose novels didn’t sell as well as they’d hoped to belligerent employees who thought they had a right to company finances. A few times in the past, she’d been forced to ruffle feathers. She still desperately needed to know whose feathers she’d ruffled enough to get Tanner killed.

Again, the sound of footsteps reached her, rushed, staccato. Someone was running in the hallway. The steps came closer. The locked knob rattled, and then something rammed the door.

Tess opened her mouth to scream, fists clenching as she braced for someone to break through. But she pressed her lips together, took a deep breath, willed herself to remain silent as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

She could handle this; she didn’t need to go running to Gerard or Sean. She reached into the top drawer of her desk and grabbed the pepper mace, slammed the drawer shut.

The echo of diminishing footsteps told her she was already too late, but she reached the door, slung it open and glanced each direction along the hallway. A shadow on the far window to her left was all she saw of her intruder, and then it was gone.

She paused, frustrated, frightened and ashamed. It could still be a rambunctious little boy who had found his way up here. Perhaps someone had left the door unlocked? Who would’ve been able to ram her door so hard that the impact still rattled in her brain? Not a little boy. Teenager plying a little mischief?

Something on the polished tile floor caught her attention at the bend of the corridor to her right, as if someone had tracked—what was it, straw?—from outside. Something from a manger scene?

Though Tess had always been nearly as courageous as her brother, courage had failed her lately. Gerard would worry if he knew, so for the past nine months she’d kept her trepidation to herself as much as possible.

The straw on the floor hadn’t been here when she’d come upstairs three hours ago. She’d heard no one while she was doing data entry and planning a new strategy for promotion.

She wasn’t a clean freak, but she stepped into the hallway to investigate. She was bending over to pick up the litter when a footstep from behind startled her so badly she had to strangle a scream. She held the mace up and pivoted.

It was Sean. His hulking shoulders seemed to expand to the width of the hallway. She went weak and nearly collapsed. “Do you know how close you came to sneezing pepper?”

Sean Torrance had the most melodious laughter she’d ever heard. “Janitorial volunteers didn’t show up tonight?”

She didn’t return his smile.

“Sorry,” he said, still chuckling. “A little jittery, aren’t you? Poorly done Christmas music does that to me, too, though not quite to the point of wanting to mace someone.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, raising one brow in threat.

Sean forced himself to stop laughing. Since he and Gerard had first been assigned as partners in the Corpus Christi police force ten years ago, he’d been undeniably drawn to Gerard’s younger half sister. She was like a fiery angel with hair and eyes the color of shiny onyx. She’d been able to make him smile when nothing and no one else could, especially these past months.

“You’re just so doggone cute when you glare like that,” Sean told Tess.

Her dark eyes flared, and he was tempted to taunt her a little—tell her outright that she should stop trying to deny her attraction to him, because he wasn’t buying it. But he knew better. Tess had been different ever since Tanner’s death. He knew she still blamed herself, though she never talked about it.

“Cruel,” she said to him. “That was cruel.” Her eyes darkened further as she pushed past the fear that seemed to cling to her. She’d been startled. He could see that now.

“I know. Sorry. What’ve you got?” he asked, nodding at the straw and whatever else she held in her hand.

“Did you hear the noise out here a moment ago?” she asked.

“Yeah. Thought it was you, so I stepped out for some company, and lo and behold, there you were, showing me a whole ’nother…um…side of yourself.” He bounced his eyebrows in an attempt at a leer.

“I meant, before I came out.”

The leer vanished. “I take it you weren’t the one running, banging around out here. I mean, remember the time we had that infestation of mice, and you chased—”

“Not mice. Not this time.”

“Tess, what happened?” He was suddenly a cop again.

She held up the straw. “The running, banging on the door, it was someone else. Someone tried to break—and I mean literally break—into my office. Who could have gotten up here? Where’s Gerard?”

Sean felt himself go cold inside. He reached beneath his coat for his sidearm.

“No.” She touched his arm, shaking her head. “It may be nothing. No need for guns.”

“You’re sure?”

She hesitated, took a deep breath, and Sean knew she was much more spooked than she wanted to let on.

“Gerard’s been gone for hours,” Sean told her. He reached for the material in her hand, sniffed it, wrinkled his nose. “Manure and mud. Someone come up here from a feedlot?”

She shrugged.

“Did you lock behind you when you came upstairs?” he asked.

“I always do. You?”

“Sure did.” Gerard had told Sean he’d purchased this building in this district of town because he knew this was where they would find the most people in need, but he also knew that calling it a mission didn’t protect this place from danger more than any other place of business in the area. The secondhand store they operated in the connecting building kept money, and this time of year they brought in a lot.

“How long have you been here?” Tess asked.

“Half the day. I’m working on year-end accounts for the station, and I can’t get anything done there. Too many interruptions.” Not that he didn’t have plenty of interruptions here…and distractions just down the hallway. The beautiful lady’s presence could be very distracting.

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.”

“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.