Theirs to Cherish

Chapter Seven

TWO hours later, Thorpe had no doubt whatsoever that Callie was long gone. In addition to her car, she’d taken her laughter, her expressive blue eyes . . . and the other half of his heart with her.

Plowing his hands through his hair, he thought acidly that if he’d been going gray before, worrying about Callie would accelerate that process. Now, Kirkpatrick was his only hope for answers. So far, he’d been unable to shake the bastard awake. In the interim, Thorpe had rifled through every inch of her closet and each one of her drawers. He hadn’t come up with much.

The bottle of Ambien he’d gotten the doctor to prescribe her this summer had never been touched. He’d railed at her to take them and put a stop to her insomnia. The stubborn girl had refused. Suddenly, two of the tablets were gone. Between the wine on her dresser and Kirkpatrick still sacked out in her bed, Thorpe didn’t have to guess what had happened to them. Goddamn it.

Axel returned, and by the grim look on his face, his search of Callie’s few favorite haunts had turned up empty. He couldn’t call her cell phone or track it. She’d left it here. Ironically enough, with a full charge. She’d shed her siren red dress. It still smelled like her. In her wake, she’d abandoned every other stitch of clothing she owned, except the ones on her back. Also left behind were the cards and gifts she’d painstakingly packed away for the last four years, as if each one was a treasured memento. And she’d removed Sean’s collar, placing it in the center of the nightstand beside him, where he would certainly see it once he woke.

Thorpe knew exactly who was responsible for Callie’s abrupt departure. She’d been . . . well, maybe not perfectly happy, but content for the last four years. Kirkpatrick had entered the scene, turned her fairly ordered world upside down, and ultimately frightened her away. Then like a wild wind, she’d swept out the door. Only Callie and God knew where the hell she was.

Would she think she was all alone now that he wasn’t beside her to hold her hand?

“Nothing?” he asked Axel.

“Nada. I’ve looked everywhere. The guys have swept every inch of this place. The little minx crawled out the window—somehow—then she managed to avoid every one of the security cameras in the parking lot on her way to her car. The only images captured indicate that she wore black and drove out of the parking lot nearly three hours ago.”

How the fuck had his careful planning gone down the drain? What, exactly, had Kirkpatrick done to spook her and make Callie flee so suddenly? Thorpe intended to get answers.

“I’m going to find her.”

“I know you’ll try like hell.” Axel crossed his beefy arms over his massive chest. “I just don’t know where to go with the search from here.”

“I need to come up with some ideas. In the meantime, can you get me fake passports? When I find Callie, I’m going to move her out of the country. And I’m going to take care of her.”

Axel whistled. “The documents alone will cost you a small fortune.”

“I don’t care. Can you arrange it or not?”

“Yeah. But you have a business to run. How the hell are you going to do that from . . . El Salvador or wherever you wind up?”

“You said once that you wanted to buy me out. Here’s your chance.”

His head of security held up massive hands in a placating gesture. “You’re talking about throwing away everything you’ve worked for over damn near the last decade for a girl you haven’t ever fuc—”

“Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence. She’s had no one to truly rely on for too long. I’m going to change that.”

“If you’re caught, you’ll go to prison with her.”

Shock pinged through him. Axel had figured out Callie’s identity.

Thorpe narrowed his eyes and gave the big guy his most menacing snarl. “What are you implying?”

“Hey . . . whoa. Nothing, man. Reading Kirkpatrick’s documents tonight made it obvious who Callie really is. Blew the fuck out of my mind. But I figured you knew, too.” At Thorpe’s sharp nod, Axel went on. “Her behavior all this time makes sense now. How long have you known?”

“Almost two years.” Since that fateful December night when he’d finally put his hands and his eyes on the bullet wound that had carved a little nick out of her left hip—and confirmed all his worst fears. “You’d better not be counting that big bounty on her head.”

Axel looked almost hurt. “The idea of Callie shooting anyone, much less her own family, especially for money, is preposterous. I’d never stab either of you in the back for a buck.”

“I hope you’re not fucking with me. I’d hate to have to end you and dispose of your corpse at the bottom of a lake in the middle of nowhere.”

Axel snorted. “I won’t give you a reason to plot my murder. Is that what you have in mind for his fate?”

Thorpe followed the other man’s stare down to Sean, still all but passed out. “I’m considering my options, but I’m not ruling anything out.”

“If you don’t do something with him, he’s going to blab.”

“True. And I’ve got to remove him from Callie’s path for good. She needs to know that she’s safe, no matter where we go.”

“You’re in love with her?”

He figured that Axel was about the only one who hadn’t guessed before now. “I’m surprised Lance didn’t let you in on that. He’s apparently amused. And Xander just feels sorry for me.”

Being in Callie’s room when it felt so utterly devoid of the woman herself was killing him. Her touch was here and her scent lingered. Thorpe paced, but pain seeped into his chest. Every moment felt like torture, and it was fucking hard just to breathe. How would he close his eyes and sleep without knowing where she’d gone? How would he be able to face tomorrow without any idea if she was safe?

“There’s nothing funny about love when it goes to shit.” Axel sighed heavily.

Thorpe knew the guy had a story, but he had to focus on Callie now. “Will you help me or not?”

“Absolutely. You’ve squeezed me out of more binds than I can count. If you need me, I’m solid. Just give me a few days to get all the paperwork in order. Focus on finding her.”

“Yeah. Question is, where do we start?”

“Well, it’s not like we can file a missing person’s report . . .”

“No. And someone else was the last to see her before she bolted,” Thorpe pointed out.

They both looked down at Sean.

“I’ll make coffee. Good luck waking Sleeping Beauty,” Axel drawled.

With a nod, Thorpe sat on the edge of the bed. “While you’re at it, check in with your guys again . . . just in case they have anything new.”

“On it.” Axel sauntered to the door, then paused. “I won’t give up, either. We’ll do everything we can.”

It wouldn’t be easy. Callie had vanished into thin air many times over the years. She’d learned how to evade law enforcement, how to disguise herself well, how to connect herself with people who weren’t all that friendly with the authorities.

But she didn’t know how to escape a man willing to fight dirty and give anything to have her back. She’d soon learn that he’d never give up.

With a sour curl to his lips, he gave Sean a hearty shove. The man grunted, smacked his tongue in his mouth, then rolled away and resumed snoring.

Thorpe eyed him with annoyance. This shit had been going on entirely too long. He should have listened to his gut as soon as Kirkpatrick walked in the club and threw the bastard out.

Sighing, he dragged Sean to the edge of the bed and slung the man over his shoulder, fireman style. The fucker groaned and jerked, half awake and flailing.

Trudging to Callie’s small bathroom, Thorpe heaved the man into her empty tub. Sean’s head hit the porcelain with a little thump.

“That’s going to leave a mark.” Axel stood in the doorway with a considering stare.

“Oops.” Thorpe smiled tightly and reached for the faucet. “Aren’t you supposed to be busy?”

“Already done. I rushed back. This is more entertaining.” With a bark of laughter, Axel considered Sean again. “If you’re going to splash cold water on him, be careful. I was a medic in the military. He could go into shock. I’ve seen it happen once after a few idiots drank too much tequila on leave, then tried to wake one another up.”

“Well, I only need this one alive for about two minutes. Then . . .” Thorpe shrugged.

“You have a really ruthless side, boss.” Axel smiled. “I like it.”

“I try.” Thorpe flipped the faucet on in Callie’s shower, blasting ridiculously cold water all over Sean, soaking his skin.

He came up sputtering, wiping water from his eyes and glaring. “What the fuck! Are you out of your mind?”

Well, well. Isn’t that interesting? No Scottish accent . . . The leopard was finally showing his true spots.

“Not at all,” Thorpe growled, then grabbed the back of Sean’s head by his wet hair.

“Get your bloody hands off me.”

And the accent is back. Thorpe rolled his eyes.

“Drop the act. I know you’re not Scottish. And I know you’re not a traveling businessman.”

Sean reared back. “I’ve no idea what you’re talkin’ about. I’m from Edinburgh. I moved to Florida a few years back—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’d do what he says, if I were you,” Axel suggested. “He’s in a really bad mood.”

Sean’s blue stare zipped around the room. “Where’s Callie?”

“Well, that’s what I want to ask you since you were the last person to see her before she fled.”

WITH a ripe curse, Sean jerked away from Thorpe’s brutal hold and stood, turning off the freezing shower. He shook off the excess water like a dog, snickering when Thorpe and Axel both protested. Then they just looked angrier.

Well, fuck. Two against one, and I’m buck naked. The odds weren’t good. How did Thorpe know he wasn’t a Scottish businessman? And what else did he know?

Later. His sluggish brain was just now processing what Thorpe had declared.

His heart froze, then began pounding like a damn jackhammer.

“Fled?” He added the lilt, refusing to break cover, even if panic grated his insides. “How did you let her slip past you?”

Thorpe rolled his eyes. “I’ll explain the meaning of ‘the jig is up’ when Callie is back home safely. I’m asking how she slipped past you. After all, you were in the same room with her.”

Sean weighed his words carefully, trying to reconstruct the evening in his head, then he played the part of Kirkpatrick, as he had for months. “The lass must have drugged the wine she gave me. I don’t recall much. Then she . . .”

He let out a ragged breath. The part where Callie had swallowed down his cock and sucked him dry, all with such a sad look in her eyes, was crystal clear.

“What?”

“That’s between Callie and me, a private matter between a Master and his sub.”

Axel leaned out the door, then came back dangling Callie’s collar on one finger. “I don’t think she’s your sub anymore. She took this off before she shimmied out the window.”

The sight of Callie’s collar glinting in Axel’s hand staggered him like he’d fallen under the weight of a giant redwood. He stumbled back. Son of a bitch, he should have listened to his instinct and pushed Callie for answers. He’d known something was troubling her.

Sean grabbed the collar from Axel and clutched it in his hand, then glared Thorpe’s way. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing I hate worse than a fake accent,” the club owner muttered to the security beefcake. “I admit it had me fooled for a long time, but now it just makes me grit my teeth.” Finally, the man regarded him again. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

“The kind where you explain to me what you did to distress my wee lovely. She’s been upset since last night, when you saw us together in the dungeon. She seemed more than a mite on edge tonight.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m the one who ran her off?”

“That I am. I’ve no idea what she likes about you, but she does by her own admission. You pushing your attentions on her last night confused the poor girl.”

“You blurting that you love her didn’t? Are you going to tell me her tears then were fake?”

Axel stepped between them. “Guys, this isn’t helping us find Callie.”

True, and he had to keep it together. He’d invested nearly a year’s worth of work on her . . . and without meaning to, his heart.

“I’m going to check in with the rest of the staff, question some of the members who were in the parking lot earlier, and make a few phone calls. Be-fucking-have, you two,” Axel demanded, then strode out the door, shaking his head.

As the other man disappeared, Sean got back to the matter at hand. “Callie didn’t say a word to me about leaving. We drank some wine, talked a bit, then made our way to the bed. That’s the last thing I recall.”

“No idea if she figured out you’re a fed?”

Sean’s blood ran cold. “A fed? You’re arse end up. I’m telling you—”

“A birdie told me there are lots of files from the FBI about me and everyone else who frequents this club in your apartment. And of course every known fact about ‘wee’ Callie.”

Shit, Thorpe knew exactly who he was. And who she was, too. The good news was Thorpe was protective of the girl. The bad news was that might change now that he realized he’d been having feelings for and harboring a fugitive all this time.

If Thorpe hurt her, Sean vowed to kill him.

Hurdling the rim of the tub, he jumped in Thorpe’s face and, despite his nudity, shoved the annoying asshole against the wall. “I should have you fucking arrested.”

No sense in faking the accent now. Thorpe had crossed the line, invading a federal agent’s turf. But Sean knew he should kick his own ass, too. He should carry information in a more discreet way. He should use some high-tech way to lock it up. But he’d been raised by his grandparents. High tech wasn’t his thing. Certain in the belief that no one at Dominion had seen through his cover, he’d allowed himself to slack. And now he was going to pay.

“Thank you,” Thorpe spit. “That accent was driving me mad.”

“It was my grandfather’s, and it’s spot on. I’ve tested it in Scotland, in his hometown. Fuck off.” He stomped on the wet tile, sloshing around, before he grabbed Callie’s towel off the rack. It was still damp. And damn if it didn’t smell like her. Sean nearly went weak in the knees. He had to believe that he’d smell her skin again soon. She couldn’t be gone forever in an instant.

“Will the real Sean step forward?” Thorpe drawled “Or is that even your name?”

“I don’t have to answer that.” Sean wrapped the towel around his waist, still clutching the delicate weight of her collar.

“I think you do, unless you have no interest in finding Callie.” Thorpe crossed his arms, and the seams of his coat struggled to contain the bulk of his shoulders. “Because I’m not going to tell you what I know until you do.”

He’d learned quickly from observation around the club that Mitchell Thorpe hid behind a veneer of civility, but under it all, he could be unflinchingly ruthless when something or someone he valued was threatened.

“Special Agent Sean Mackenzie. I have every interest in finding Callie. She’s not just the subject of an investigation to me.” He cleared his throat. “I love her.”

“Not sure I believe you.” Thorpe paused. “And I’ve got about a million questions, but not until we have some idea where Callie has gone.”

“Fair enough.”

“Did she give you any indication where she might be headed?”

“Like I said, she didn’t indicate that she was going at all. I suspected, but . . . Can we head back to the bedroom so I can have my clothes? Unless you like me naked or something?”

“Fuck no.” Thorpe moved out of the doorway.

Sean ambled into Callie’s room, looking at the window with a frown. “She crawled out that window with the bars?”

Thorpe nodded, seeming both vexed and oddly proud of Callie. “I took a flashlight and examined the area where she’d loosened the bars in one corner. It appears that she did it some time ago to make sure she had an escape route.”

“So she’s always had a plan, I suppose.”

“I think she always does. How else could she manage to elude you guys for so long?”

Sean nodded and located his clothes in the mess Thorpe had made searching the room. Setting Callie’s collar on her nightstand, he swore he’d have it around her neck again, someday, somehow—for real. Then he slipped on his pants. “I’ve studied her patterns. From what I can tell, she came most recently from Oklahoma City. I don’t see her going back there. I’m sure you’ve looked at the security footage. Did she leave in her car?”

Thorpe hesitated. “She did, but I don’t expect her to keep it long.”

“Agreed. It’s a liability. She wouldn’t want to run the risk of us putting an APB out on her or being arrested by the first overzealous cop who runs her license plate.”

“No.” The club owner didn’t add a single other word to the conversation. Obviously, he wasn’t going to lift a finger to help.

“I wished I’d listened to my gut and put a GPS tracker on her car.”

“You don’t have any other way to track her?” When Sean shook his head, Thorpe sighed in frustration. “Are you fucking kidding me? You knew she was a flight risk.”

“I had devices in both her collar and her purse. She conveniently removed the first and left the second behind. If I was going to play the pointless blame game, I’d ask why you didn’t check the bars on her windows to make sure they were secure. After all, you knew she was a flight risk, too.”

“Fuck off.”

“We don’t have Axel to referee for us now. Are we going to narrow down where we might find Callie or just fight?”

Thorpe clenched his fists, looking ready to spit nails. “We’re going to find her.”

“Good. I’ve got some theories. She wouldn’t head anywhere north or northeast with winter coming,” Sean mused aloud.

“What makes you think that?”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.” He bristled. “Callie dislikes the cold. And over the last nine years, we’ve tracked her through eight states. We’ve often missed her by days, sometimes even hours.” Sean couldn’t help but admire her guts as he slipped on his shirt. “But she always chases the warmth. You know, we’ve been aware for some time that she was in Texas. We even suspected Dallas, but couldn’t pin her down.”

Thorpe swallowed thickly. “How did you find her?”

“We got a hit on facial recognition software when you sent her to your bank to make a deposit at the end of January. It took a few weeks for the bureau to positively identify her, then another six weeks for me to watch this place, you, the others here, and her, so we could decide how to proceed.”

Thorpe closed his eyes, and Sean could guess that he was kicking his own ass. “I never imagined that a simple errand would put her at risk.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It could have just as easily been a traffic or sidewalk cam.”

But Thorpe’s face said that he absolutely felt responsible and that if he ever found Callie, he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Sean would bet every dime in his bank account that the man was already planning to secret her out of the country, someplace far warmer and south of the U.S., out of the bureau’s reach.

He regarded his nemesis, hoping like hell he wouldn’t have to detain or hurt Thorpe. It would just be a waste of time and the loss of a temporary ally.

“So you don’t have any ideas where Callie might have gone?” Sean challenged, wanting to know if Thorpe was going to play nice. Obviously, the man had ideas. Time to see how much he’d be willing to share.

“Not really. The only thing I’ve ever been able to count on with Callie was the unpredictable. Maybe Florida. If she wanted to get out of the country, doing it from the Keys would be easier.”

Sean pounded his fist on the wall beside Thorpe’s head. “Bullshit! The longer you play this stupid fucking game with me, the longer she has to get away. She won’t go to Florida because she thinks my home and business are there.”

“Well, damn. I guess I can’t accuse you of being stupid after all.”

Sean just snorted.

“Are you based in Florida?” Thorpe sounded almost hopeful.

“Right here in Dallas.” He smiled acidly.

“Well, hunky fucking dory. Isn’t it my lucky day?”

“Hey, you don’t have to like me any better than I like you. But right now, we have to work together to find her. Every minute that ticks by—”

“Is another minute she slips farther away. I know that, asshole.” Thorpe gave an agitated huff and raked a hand through his hair.

“Look, whether you believe me or not, my feelings for Callie are real. I have a very vested interest in making sure she doesn’t go to jail, especially for a crime there’s no way she committed.”

That set Thorpe on his ear. “You know she’s innocent?”

“Of course. But is that really the important question?”

“Why does the bureau want her? Murder isn’t really their jurisdiction.”

“Now you’re thinking. That’s something I’ve asked myself over and over. I don’t have an answer, and before you say a word, that’s not a load of crap. I don’t have the time or energy to lie to you, man. They keep giving me a line about identity fraud.”

“Callie wouldn’t steal anyone’s identity.” Thorpe frowned.

“But she’s created personas and gotten fake IDs, sometimes crossing state lines before shedding them and her car, then starting over.”

Thorpe looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “And that’s cause for the bureau to send in an undercover agent for months?”

“Exactly. None of this adds up for me, either. And they’re treating the case like it’s vital to national security.”

“What? That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“What makes even less sense is that my directive is just to keep tabs on her and search for anything she may have taken of her father’s.”

“Not to arrest her?” Thorpe looked tense, poised on a knife’s edge waiting for the answer.

A part of Sean wanted to let the club owner squirm in discomfort, but they just didn’t have time. “At least for now. If they really believed she had violated laws, they’d want her behind bars pronto. Two and two isn’t adding up. Something’s rotten in Denmark. Use whatever cliché you like, but it’s messed up. And I’m going to do everything I can to protect her.”

“That makes two of us.” Crossing his arms, Thorpe swallowed. “All right. She mentioned something about L.A. to me last night.”

Sean’s whole body tightened. “Does she know anyone there?”

“Not anymore. Xander moved to Louisiana. And they aren’t close.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Sean considered the suggestion. “It’s a possibility. They have fairly warm winters. It’s far from here. It’s a big city, so she can get lost.”

“That makes sense.”

Thorpe looked like that notion scared the hell out of him. It worried Sean, too. What if he couldn’t find her there? Or anywhere?

“She’ll definitely head west. Where’s my damn phone?” Sean patted his pockets, then looked around the floor, then the bed. Finally, he spotted the device and nearly pounced on it. The second he tapped in his code, the picture that appeared made him swear a blue streak. “I know why Callie ran. Damn it, she fucking tricked me and figured out that I know who she is.”

He flashed Thorpe the picture of her teenage self, chipper smile, dark blond hair, and those same blue eyes he could drown in.

Thorpe’s sibilant curse filled the air. “That would do it.”

“I scared her.” Sean’s face filled with regret.

“No doubt. If you think she’s going west, I’m going to find her.”

“You?” Sean shook his head. “This is my job. You need to stay here.”

“Not happening. I’m going with you to find Callie and make sure you don’t drag her away.”

“You’ve got to stay here and act like everything is normal.”

“How?” Thorpe demanded, looking at Sean as if he never had any mind to actually lose. “My world is upside down. Anyone who knows me knows damn well that I wouldn’t let that girl go without a fight.”

“Maybe, but you’re crazy if you think the bureau isn’t watching you, too. They don’t get eyes on Callie too often outside Dominion. But you . . . every time you’ve hopped on a commercial flight or even taken a taxi since we identified her has been tracked and noted, just in case you leaving is a sign that she’s darting with you.”

“Someone inside the club snitched that we’re close?”

Sean quickly assured him with a shake of his head. “Before I joined, I couldn’t get anyone to talk, but the bureau surmised it. She’s never stayed in one place for even half this long, so we had to assume that she was attached to someone here. You seemed like the most logical choice. The second I got in the door, I knew she’d remained here all these years for you.”

He didn’t tell Thorpe that he knew Callie had largely accepted his collar to see if Thorpe would care. If the bastard hadn’t figured out that she was in love with him, too, Sean didn’t feel the need to enlighten him. In his book, if Thorpe hadn’t claimed her by now, he’d missed his chance.

“Here’s a thought,” Thorpe tossed out. “You stay here and look ‘normal.’ I’ll borrow someone else’s car and head west, in case they’re looking for mine. I’ll find Callie.”

“Sure you will. While you’re working out some scheme in your head where you intend to clear the country with her, never to be seen again. I promise I won’t let that happen. I’ll throw obstruction, tampering, harboring a fugitive—whatever I can make stick—at you. I’ll also prosecute the hell out of Axel for breaking into my apartment and tampering with federal evidence. You’ll both go to jail. And before you tell me Axel had nothing to do with it, shut up and spare me the lie.”

“Then we’re at a crossroads. You want to find her. I want to find her. You give me the ‘two heads are better than one’ speech, then think you’re going to leave me here while you find Callie alone?” Thorpe shook his head. “At this point, I don’t give a fuck if you try to arrest me. I only care about bringing her back safe. I don’t doubt that she’s dodged some unscrupulous men in the past who have looked at her and seen nothing but that two-million-dollar bounty.” Thorpe frowned at him. “If she’s not actually wanted for a crime, why the big price on her head?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t have any other family to put up money, so that’s another mystery that makes no sense to me. But if Uncle Sam is willing to pony up that much cash, she’s somehow valuable. Someone else knows that—and knows why. People far more dangerous than bounty hunters.”

Thorpe went absolutely still. “Whoever killed her family?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. After all, they also shot her the night she escaped. If they wanted her dead then, why stop trying now?”

“You’re right. Jesus . . .”

“According to the files I have access to, she’s eluded some well-paid assassins over the last nine years. Someone wants to silence her. I just wish I knew why. I’d love to hunt down these assholes so I can keep her safe.”

“We can’t stand here and fuck around. This is bigger than I imagined.” Thorpe didn’t look like a man who ever begged, but he came pretty close now. “Two heads are better than one. You might know more about her background, but I know her. I know who she is now. I have a better idea where she’d go, what she’d do, and why.”

Sean paused and reluctantly nodded. “All right. But you can’t take her out of the country once we find her.”

“We’ll work that out later. Let’s find her first.”

Sean didn’t like it, but Thorpe had a valid point. “My rules, though. Leave your phone here.”

“What? No!” Thorpe looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “If she calls me—”

“She won’t. She left her phone here with all her contact numbers.”

“Callie memorizes numbers. She knows how to call me.”

Sean shook his head. “The bureau is monitoring the location of your phone. Leave it here.”

“Damn it! How?”

“Trade secret. Get a burner phone and tell Axel how to find you in case Callie calls you or returns. We need a car, not yours or mine.”

“Axel will be happy to drive my Jag while I’m gone,” Thorpe drawled.

“Perfect.” Sean clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go. We both need to grab as much cash as we can. Once we do, we’ll get on the road. Hopefully, we can be out of Dallas before dawn.”

“And what, just head west?”

With a nod, Sean’s face turned grim. “We’ll hope for a break in the information as we’re traveling.”

After a quick chat with Axel, they exchanged keys, and his head of security was grinning from ear to ear, promising to take care of the business and car, as Thorpe made his way to his office. Just as he set his phone in a drawer of his desk to lock it up, it chimed with a text. Sean glanced at the screen. Logan Edgington. 911.

“What does he want at this late hour?” Sean asked.

“Not sure. Might have something to do with a phone call I made earlier.” He snatched his phone up again and quickly hit a few buttons, then jammed the device against his ear.

Sean didn’t believe him for a second. “Put it on speaker.”

“Fuck off.”

“Or you stay here—behind bars. I can arrange that.”

Thorpe grumbled, then hit the speaker button as the call connected. The second the other man answered, Thorpe skipped the small talk. “What’s up, Logan?”

“Tara just found out through her contacts at the bureau that Kirkpatrick is really a fed named Mackenzie.”

“I got that already. And he’s standing right beside me.”

Thorpe slanted him a stare, and Sean had to admit that he was impressed that the club owner had the forethought to look into his background. The guy might make a better partner in the search for Callie than expected.

“Well . . . I didn’t know that until just now. So don’t kill me.”

“Not really my priority at the moment, Logan. I have to go. Callie is missing.”

“I know. She came to me, terrified out of her mind. She didn’t know who or what this Sean guy was.” Logan sighed. “She thought he was trying to kill her, so I helped her disappear.”