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Not when she knew what she was missing.
Another burst of laughter hit her. Bridger dug a hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone, then he turned to the group, whistling shrilly.
The conversation halted, the mood shifting instantly from a playful reunion to business.
Bridger pressed a finger to his free ear, walking away as he concentrated on the call. “Slow down, Dressler. Say that again.”
He snapped his fingers at Tai. “Bring up Dressler’s place,” he ordered quietly.
Tai headed for the guest room. Paige set her heavy pack on the kitchen counter and dug inside, pulling out her own laptop.
“Are you okay?” Bridger said into the phone. “Good. Stay put. Lock the doors. We’re on our way. I’m sending the police as well. You’ll hear sirens soon.”
Tai raced back into the room, his laptop already open. He set it on the counter next to Paige’s computer. The two bent their heads together over their keyboards.
“Oh man. This is not good. Not. Good.” Tai’s voice was tight with frustration. He turned the computer so the group could see the grainy video feed playing across the screen. “Take a look at this. It’s time stamped ten minutes ago.”
Jane and Bridger closed in behind him, shoulder to shoulder, watching the disaster unfold. There were two camera feeds on the split screen, both showing the back of the house. A large figure—Pastor Zack—stood in the doorway. But then he moved. He must have heard something. He headed out the back door, where a shadowy figure waited.
“Don’t do it,” Tai warned, as if the scene had not already played out. “Do not do this.”
Jane pressed a hand to her mouth. It was like watching a horror movie unfold in real time. Her heart was beating so hard it knocked against her ribs.
Please, Lord, protect them.
Bridger whipped out his phone and dialed. “Yes, dispatch, I’ve got an armed intruder on camera attempting to enter a residence.” His eyes never leaving the feeds, he recited Randall’s address, then hung up. “Why would Myles do that? Why would he let the guy in?”
Whoever it was wore a hoodie and kept their head down, face away from the camera. “It looks like Billy,” she said. “Same build. Maybe he talked his way in?”
Tai squeezed the back of his neck. “That makes sense. There were no pings on the security system.”
Paige made a strangled sound. “There’s no realtime satellite coverage. We might get eyes on the property in another twenty minutes or so.”
Bridger gave Jane a long look. “Whoever that is, your preacher let them in. The guy hit Dressler in the head and took off. With Zack Myles.”
“The incursion was over ten minutes ago,” Fenn observed. “Since we haven’t heard from the target, my guess is he didn’t go willingly.”
Head whirling, Jane pressed a hand to her mouth. Why would the pastor let the guy in? Both Bridger and Tai had drilled him and Randall on safety procedures. Don’t go outside. Don’t hang out near windows. Don’t fiddle with the security system.
“I don’t know.” Bridger shrugged, responding to her unasked question. “We’ll figure it out,” he added, before addressing his team. “Paige and Mason, secure the perimeter and hunker down here. The rest of you, let’s hit it.”
The team sprang into action, their movements precise and controlled. They pressed tiny transmitters into their ears, checking the comm lines, then Bridger and his part of the team headed out.
Jane sank down on a stool. Adrenaline flooded her, shooting liquid energy through her limbs. For the first time, she was grateful she’d never known when Jason was on an op. The stress was so much worse than the vague, sickening ache she’d felt every day he was in Special Ops.
This was a vicious, searing pain. Because one way or another, someone she knew might die in the next few hours.
If they hadn’t already.
31
Footon the gas the whole way, Bridger got the team to Randall Dressler’s spread way ahead of emergency services. Sirens whined low in the valley. Still at least ten minutes out, he figured. Not a surprise, given that the small sheriff’s department patrolled thousands of square miles, and the only paid EMTs were an hour away in the larger town of Buttermilk Valley.
Not that he was worried for Dressler’s safety. The guy had been coherent on the phone. Mostly. Still, the lapses in logic could easily be explained by the attack.
The team approached the front door, quickly scattering so they wouldn’t be in the line of fire if anything happened. No telling what a frightened civilian could do. Fenn and Tai headed around the back while Kate covered Bridger’s six as he headed up the front steps.
Careful to keep his body away from the door, he knocked hard. “Dressler? It’s Bridger North. I brought reinforcements.”
