Page 63 of Unseen Danger
Empty.
He inched just inside, then darted to the left and swung his weapon in a sweep to the right.
The sprinkler water soaked him like a heavy rain as his gaze searched the cars, the tidy gardening tools and weedkiller the groundskeeper used.
Someone could be hiding in one of the vehicles.
He made a pass by each of them, looking through the windows to make sure they were unoccupied.
As he rounded D-Chop’s Porsche, something dark on the garage floor caught his eye.
Three small stands held the casings of what he assumed were fireworks. Wires ran from them to what looked to be a receiver of some kind. Perfect setup for remote-controlled fireworks.
He gritted his teeth. He’d have to check it over more thoroughly after he made sure the kids were safe.
“DT1, we’re clear.” He spoke into coms as he made his way out of the garage. “Wait to move the packages until I get there.” He didn’t want to make the mistake of not taking enough precautions. Especially not with the children. There was always a slim possibility someone could still be lurking somewhere on the grounds.
“Good job, guys.” Branson forced cheerfulness into his voice as he neared the kids, their little heads poking up above the leaves. “Think you can beat Darren and me to the house?”
Grins lit their faces, and the game was on. A game for the boys, anyway.
With Darren carrying Destiny in his arms, they ran to the house. Branson and Darren kept pace beside the boys, staying between them and the garage until they were safely inside.
Marsha hurried toward them across the vast foyer. “I heard loud noises.”
“Just fireworks.” Branson kept his voice light as he gave her a look he hoped communicated the need to stay calm for the kids.
She didn’t miss a beat, pressing on a smile as she turned to the children. “Your snacks are prepared in the kitchen. You go on ahead, and I’ll be right there.”
Branson gave Darren a nod, signaling he should follow the children as they dashed to the kitchen where they’d no doubt annoy the chef who was prepping dinner.
“What’s this about fireworks?”
Branson gave Marsha a brief explanation of the little he knew.
“Should we call the police?” She whispered the question though the kids had already disappeared.
“I don’t think D-Chop would like that. And if it’s only fireworks, that’s not exactly a serious criminal offense. I’ll need to check it out first. Would you find Peter and tell him I want to talk to him?”
“Of course.” Concern filled Marsha’s blue eyes.
He hadn’t missed that she’d been getting attached to D-Chop’s children. Branson touched her arm. “It’ll be okay. The kids are safe. And they’ll stay that way.”
She managed a small smile with her nod. “I’d better go before the children make Chef Cox threaten to quit again.”
He returned her smile, but it faded as soon as she walked away.
He spun and headed out to the garage with the grim premonition he wasn’t going to like what he’d find.
Fifteen minutes later, his jaw was more clenched than before as he returned to the house. The gate guard hadn’t seen anything unusual all day, aside from the initial press visitors that morning. But someone had managed to set up remote-activated fireworks to explode in the garage, damaging two of D-Chop’s expensive cars.
The damage was superficial, mostly scarring the paint. But that was vandalism, which probably made it a misdemeanor. Could even be a felony depending on state laws in Minnesota and the extent of damage. That meant it was something they should report to the police.
And he still needed to report the whole incident to D-Chop, unless Darren had already. Either way, Branson needed to see his client and discuss the incident.
Darren had reported via coms that the kids were fine, now playing in the game room.
As Branson went to the hallway that housed D-Chop’s suite, he silently gave thanks that the children were unharmed, physically and emotionally.