Page 142 of Unseen Danger

A small hand entered Branson’s limited view, then a petite body slid onto the table to sit next to Bristol. Sofia. She grabbed the phone as she sat down and looked at the screen. “What’s your ETA?”

A deep voice spoke, muffled in the background, before Cora answered. “Kent says fifteen minutes. The fog is starting to clear, which should help, but the traffic has been heavy all the way from the airport.”

“Roger.” Sofia glanced over her left shoulder. “Did you put in Phoenix’s call?”

“Yes. I’m waiting to hear back.”

Sofia stood and set the phone down next to Bristol again.

“Hear back from whom?” Branson winced as another jolt of pain seared his skull.

Bristol’s attention swung to her left, and Branson managed to turn his head enough to see Phoenix stalk toward them with her dog.

Did she have news? He couldn’t tell. Her expression was exactly the same as always. Unreadable.

Frustration surged in his chest, and he opened his mouth, but she spoke first.

“Her pickup is still in the lot. The valet confirmed he never drove it up.” Phoenix’s cool gaze went to Branson. “Never saw Aaberg either.”

Was he supposed to respond to that? He opened his mouth to explain, but she beat him to the punch again.

“Dagian tracked her around the back of the building, where it dead-ends. She was likely put into a vehicle in the employee parking lot.”

Put into a vehicle? The statement cinched Branson’s ribs, squeezing his breath away.

But the woman continued as if she could care less. “We found this in the lot.” She pulled something from her pocket and held it up.

Dizziness swirled as he followed the motion. A red smartphone?

Someone sucked in a breath. “That’s Nevaeh’s new phone.” Jazz stepped into view a few feet from Phoenix.

Of course. He should’ve recognized it. “Hold on. You think Nevaeh was…taken? Abducted?”

Phoenix’s gaze tracked somewhere other than him. “I reached my source in L.A. Johnson hasn’t shown up at his job or his girlfriend’s apartment where he was living for three weeks.”

“Why didn’t the FBI agent tell you that sooner?” Frustration pinched Jazz’s voice.

He knew how she felt.

“She only learned it yesterday but got tied up on a case.”

“Who’s Johnson?”

A pause answered his question.

“Someone Nevaeh used to know.” Jazz’s green eyes landed briefly on Branson. And he didn’t like what he saw in them. Fear. Worry. Whoever they were talking about, it wasn’t a friend. Could it be—

“I think this is the callback from your source at MPD, Phoenix.” Cora’s voice from the phone cut through his thoughts. “Hold on.”

“Go now.” Phoenix’s order was directed somewhere to Branson’s left.

He turned his head in that direction, surprised when only minimal dizziness greeted the movement.

“Roger.” Sofia darted past Phoenix.

“I’ll take Grace home.”

Sofia gave a little salute to Michael in answer, not breaking her quick stride toward the exit.

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