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Of course Randall Dressler wouldn’t be a threat to seasoned operatives.
She inched her way to the edge of the bar, peeking around the corner. Despite Mason’s order, she had to look.
The cold night air billowed in along with the lanky form of Randall Dressler, hands laced together behind his head, like a man about to be arrested.
Mason kicked the door shut behind him and locked it before pulling Randall away from the door. “Search him,” he ordered Paige.
She patted Randall down with quick efficiency and then waved a palm-sized device around his entire body. “He’s clean.”
Mason waved him into the living room. “What do you need, Dressler?”
Randall made it to the couch in three jerky steps, eyes wide as he scanned the room. “Where’s Jane? Is she okay?”
“You can come out,” Mason announced.
Jane rose from her hiding place, feeling like a kid playing hide and seek. If the situation weren’t so dire, she might have laughed.
Randall looked relieved. He moved toward her, but Mason yanked him back so hard he almost lost his balance. “Stay put, dude.”
Randall’s eyes widened, but he didn’t argue. “I’m sorry. I had to come. I have information.”
Mason didn’t appear impressed. “You could have called.”
Randall raised his arms in a helpless gesture. “I tried the sheriff, but his phone went to voicemail. I left him the information, but I want to make sure someone acts on it.”
Unlike Randall, Mason seemed fully at ease. He folded his arms over his impressive chest and waited.
“Okay. Okay. That’s not the real reason.” Randall thrust his fingers in his hair, making his wavy hair stand on end. “I’m freaked out. I wanted company. I figured you guys wouldn’t mind.”
Jane had to stop herself from going to the poor man. Mason wouldn’t like her touching him. She settled for a gentle smile. “Of course. Might as well wait this out together.”
Randall smiled back. “Thanks.”
Neither Paige nor Mason added any words of encouragement. She caught the strained look that flew between them. She appreciated their vigilance, but Randall was clearly a wreck. The company wouldn’t hurt.
Randall gave her a watery smile. “Do I smell cookies?”
“They’re gone.” Mason’s gaze moved from Randall to the curtained window and back again. “So what’s this information?”
“I think I know where Billy Peckham is.” Randall swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple bob. “As of an hour ago, he was heading toward the church.”
Mason eyed Randall. “You said you didn’t see your attacker.”
“I didn’t see his face.” Randall insisted. “This is new information. Someone in town saw Peckham’s car.”
One of Mason’s dark eyebrows soared toward his hairline. He nodded at Paige, the movement almost imperceptible.
She was already back at her computer. “Sats are back up. The only vehicle at the church is ours.”
Randall made an impatient sound. “This is important info. My mother’s hairdresser just called her. She saw Peckham’s car going past her house over an hour ago. She lives down the street from the church. I’ve known Mrs. Miller my whole life. She wouldn’t lie.”
“But you might,” Mason said.
Randall’s jaw dropped. “Why would I lie? Peckham’s dangerous. I’m sure he’s the one that attacked me. What’s to say he won’t try again?”
The best reason yet to believe Randall’s tale. He was nice enough, but the guy had always been more than a little self-centered.
Mason seemed to agree. “Car could be in the parsonage garage,” he said to Paige.
