Page 86 of Unseen Danger

Knowing the answer didn’t calm the indignation that rose in his chest when the two thugs grabbed Nevaeh and pressed the cloth over her mouth.

He clenched his hands into fists at his side as the thugs tossed her into the back of their van like she was nothing more than a bag of garbage.

“See anyone you recognize? Anything familiar?” Detective Larson’s scratchy voice halted the anger spreading like wildfire in Branson’s system. Slowed it anyway.

He forced himself to relax his hands, uncurling the fists. “No.”

The van was common enough, the angle of the camera wrong for anyone to make the plate. Probably stolen anyway. And the men were dressed in plain jeans and black sweatshirts, ski masks covering their heads. No chance of recognizing them.

“Thanks for letting me see the footage.”

The middle-aged detective turned away from the monitor in the manager’s office. “It was worth a shot.”

“Did Darren say if he saw what direction the van drove when it hit the street?”

Larson pulled a tablet from the pocket of his blazer and flipped it open but didn’t lower his gaze to check it. “North. The suspects had already been gone about five minutes when our boys arrived, according to Tremblay, so they didn’t try to pursue.”

Made sense. The police would gather as much evidence as they could before making their next move.

But Branson couldn’t wait that long. Not while Nevaeh was in danger. “Mind if I go out back and take a look at the scene?”

Larson watched him for a moment.

Branson met his gaze.

The detective must’ve liked what he saw because he nodded. “Just stay out of the way of the lab techs back there, and don’t touch anything.”

“Thanks.” Branson walked at a quick clip from the office and past the officers clustered near the trampolines.

He pushed through the back door into the small parking lot.

The footage from the camera above the door hadn’t shown where the first men had come from, but the large trash bins to the left were a likely guess.

They’d shot Darren right away, his body barely visible on the camera before he fell out of view.

That had left Nevaeh all alone to defend the kids.

And she’d done an incredible job. Made every decision the way Branson would’ve. Even avoiding use of her firearm when it could’ve hit the kids or drawn return fire that could jeopardize their safety.

Branson stepped away from the door, not going behind the trash cans since two lab techs were scouring the ground there already. He followed Nevaeh’s movements as he recalled them from the footage, scanning the faded blacktop for a sign of something, anything that could offer a clue as to who the kidnappers were and where they might’ve taken Nevaeh.

Right about there. He paused where he estimated she’d caught up with Samson and Destiny. Where she’d hunkered down to defend the three kids, no matter what.

He shook his head as the image of her standing there with her K-9, the kids clinging to her, pumped both awe and anger through his veins.

She hadn’t shown a moment’s hesitation or uncertainty from the time the first shot was fired, and she’d always kept the children’s safety, not her own, as her obvious objective. She’d used the tools she had—her dog, her gun, and her martial arts training—expertly.

That should’ve been enough.

He walked a few more feet. There. Could be where she’d switched to the other side of the kids to face the new attackers from the van.

His gut twisted. She hadn’t flinched. She’d instead given them the fight of their lives. Looked like she’d broken the arm of the one guy.

But it’d been four against one at the end. Not exactly a fair fight.

She’d gone limp a couple seconds earlier than he’d have expected if they’d used chloroform on the rag they pressed over her mouth.

He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d done that on purpose to get the kidnappers away from the kids. He’d have to ask her when he found her.

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