Season of Danger. Jill Elizabeth Nelson

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Season of Danger - Jill Elizabeth Nelson Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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“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

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