Chapter Eight

“WHY the fuck didn’t you call me before now?” Thorpe demanded. “Hell, why didn’t she come to me? I’m going to paddle her ass when I catch up with her . . .”

“Get in line¸” Sean groused beside him. “The little minx tricked me, drugged me, lied to me. I’m sure I can add to that list if I think about it for a few seconds more.”

“Callie was scared, guys. She panicked. Based on what she told me, I understood,” Logan said, trying to be the voice of reason.

There were a hundred reasons that was funny, but Thorpe wasn’t in the mood to laugh just now. “And what did she tell you?”

“Are you here as a law enforcement officer or her Dom?” Logan asked.

“My priority is Callie’s safety,” Sean clarified. “Nothing else matters.”

Logan snorted. “If you’re lying, Thorpe will probably make sure that someone finds you months from now at the bottom of a lake with hundred-pound weights attached to your ankles.”

Damn, Logan knew him well.

“Whatever. Spit it out.” Sean rolled his eyes.

“She told me everything,” Logan admitted.

Callie trusts a man she hasn’t seen in two years more than she trusts me? The thought stung Thorpe like an icy rain. It fucking hurt, to be so disregarded after four years of . . . what was their relationship exactly?

If he thought about it, Callie had been his sub in so many ways. Not sexually, of course. But she’d deferred to him at work. She’d begun to come to him with her problems—not this one, granted. She’d leaned on him, sometimes letting him hold her when she’d looked forlorn or melancholy. And sweetest of all, she often tried to please him in little ways. He’d done his best to give her all the security, support, boundaries, and caring she required.

It hadn’t been enough. With one sentence, Logan had stripped away his blinders and proven that he wasn’t Callie’s go-to confidante. It would be easy to imagine that she didn’t care for him, but those teary blue eyes hadn’t lied when he’d held her, and she’d cupped his cheek as she’d poured out her feelings. She did love him . . . in her way. As much as she let herself love anyone.

“So where’s my Callie now?” Sean asked into the phone.

Your Callie?” Thorpe asked sharply. “Remind me where her collar is now.”

“Shut up and let Edgington answer,” Sean snapped.

“She’s on her way to Vegas,” Logan supplied. “I called ahead to one of my old SEAL team buddies. Elijah is a good guy and a hell of an operative. Tomorrow, I promised to get some paperwork together for her so she could leave the country.”

“Son of a bitch,” Sean muttered, echoing Thorpe’s own sentiment. Then the fed looked at him. “So I guess we’re heading to Vegas. How is she getting there?”

“I found her a last-minute charter with a bunch of vacationers. It’s a direct flight, leaving from New Orleans about . . . now. The plane is a big one. She’s in the back. Hopefully, no one will remember her, especially after she bought a floppy hat at Walmart that covers half her face. Elijah will pick her up when the flight lands. He’ll put her up with him. He’s vacating his wife and kids from the house, just in case there’s trouble. As soon as all her paperwork came together, I was going to overnight it to her.”

And that would have been that. She would have disappeared from his life forever. And Thorpe realized, if that had happened, she would have been his biggest regret, too. He already had so many of them. Was he prepared to add her to the list?

“The second Callie called you to meet her, you should have let me know. You should have told me where she was, what was going on—”

“She begged me. I promised not to call you until we met and I heard her out. Once I had, I understood why she was adamant about not risking you, so I promised not to say anything. And she was right; everyone who knew her would assume she’d come to you with her problems. She usually does.”

Thorpe still didn’t like it. “How would you feel if Tara came to me wanting to escape danger, and refused to involve you even for your own good?”

“It’s different. She’s my wife.”

“It’s not different. If Xander knew how I felt about her, I guarantee you did.” He cursed. “We’ll talk more about this later. Where can we find Elijah?”

Logan rattled off the address, then sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. In your shoes, I’d be pissed, too. I did what I thought was best with the information I had. I’ll stall her paperwork and tell Elijah to hang on to her until you can get there. Then you can decide the best course of action.”

“Thanks,” Sean said into the phone. “We’ll call you again from the road with disposable numbers. Neither of us are taking our phones.”

“Check.”

Thorpe ended the call, barely resisting the urge to throw his cell across the room and smash it into pieces. Instead, he locked the device into one of his desk drawers so only Axel could access it, then looked at his rival for Callie’s affection and his new partner in her retrieval. “I want to get to Callie as quickly as we can. I won’t rest again until I see her.”

“I feel the same. Let’s go.”

* * *

DAWN had inched up over the horizon a few hours ago, and they were in the armpit of Texas, somewhere between Dallas and Amarillo. Mile after mile of boring highway rolled by with nothing but small Texas towns to see, and the drive seemed interminable. He and Sean had passed the hours with a fast-food breakfast sandwich, several cups of coffee, and absolute silence. Yesterday’s clothes felt gritty and stiff. But none of that mattered now. Thorpe could only pray that no one had recognized Callie and that she remained out of harm’s way.

Beside him, Sean’s eyes drooped like he still had a tinge of an Ambien hangover. But he continued to stare at the road as if it would somehow bring Callie back to him.

“If you want to sleep, go ahead. I got it,” Thorpe said, breaking the tense hush.

Sean shook his dark head. “I’ve been on stakeouts in the past and had to go two or three days without much sleep, so I’ve been more tired.”

He should probably just shut up, but they’d lost all radio reception some time ago, unless one counted the classic country twang station, which he didn’t. To say the drive was stressful and boring was as obvious as calling the sky blue.

“Your sleep deprivation isn’t going to help us find her any faster,” Thorpe pointed out.

“Right now, I’m not sure I could nod off for any reason. We’ve got hours, maybe days, before we catch up to Callie. If I closed my eyes now, I’d just dwell on how disturbed I am that she believes I’m out to kill her.”

“What else did you expect her to think after she realized you lied?”

“I understand logically. How many dirtbags have hunted her in the past, right? Her wariness has probably saved her more than once.” A pained frown consumed the other man’s face, full of deep lines and silent restraint. Callie’s belief that Sean was capable of hurting her was clearly shredding his guts. “But I wouldn’t tell Callie that I loved her if I’d just planned on ending her.”

Mackenzie’s tone asked why the girl couldn’t see that. The man might have spewed a lot of crap in the past, but unfortunately Thorpe had no doubt his feelings were genuine.

“Or turning her in for the money?”

“Never.”

“When did she become more than a case to you?” Thorpe wasn’t interested in having a touchy-feely conversation, but it would both fill the long drive and tell him how much he could trust the guy.

Sean shrugged. “I think before I even met her. Callie was never a name in a file for me. From the moment this case came my way, I wanted to understand what made her tick. I kept thinking how damn hard it would be to lose your mother as a little girl, then so violently lose everyone else you loved before really growing up.”

“And then have to run for your life and be forced to leave everyone you came to care about again and again.”

“Yeah.” Sean stewed for a minute. “Her circumstances hit me hard. I didn’t know my parents too well, but my grandparents raised me. When they died . . .” He let out a long breath. “That was damn hard. They taught me how to love and the value of family. Anyway, I felt for Callie. But the moment I met her . . . fuck, I knew I was toast.”

Thorpe gripped the steering wheel tighter, stunned by Sean’s simple honesty. He understood closeness and love. Thorpe had been avoiding those for so many years, he’d forgotten what it was like to truly let anyone inside his heart—until Callie had bulldozed his protective walls and dug her way in without even knowing it. She’d quickly taken root, a weed he couldn’t bring himself to pull. If he managed to find her, could he open enough to be the man, the lover, she needed?

According to most people in his past, he didn’t have a prayer in hell.

“Right away, I could see that she’d been alone for too long. She isn’t meant to be,” Sean pointed out, his tone almost a challenge, as if he was willing to fight until Thorpe agreed.

But there was nothing to argue about. “You’re right.”

Sean relaxed. “Callie yearns for more.”

“She does. She’s afraid to connect with anyone, but her heart is too big not to share. Despite that bratty attitude she flashes, she’s most content when she’s making others happy.”

If they could help Callie understand that they both simply wanted her safe, maybe she would come home. But that wouldn’t make her whole. The girl needed the firm hand of a tender master to guide her through life and love. She was probably better off without him, but Thorpe knew that if he didn’t get over his shit and try to assume that role, Sean certainly would. If the man succeeded, Callie could be lost to him forever.

The sun beat down through the back window. The remnants of the coffee tasted like cold sawdust. His stomach coiled into tight knots. Since he doubted he could be what she needed but he didn’t want to live without her, where did that leave him? Fucked.

“I see her desire to please others,” Sean agreed. “But to survive, the clever little kitten has developed some sharp claws.” The fond smile on Sean’s face made Thorpe both appreciate the man more and want to rip his entrails out with jealousy. “Callie will fight when she thinks it’s necessary.”

“Every time. But in the last four years, I’ve watched her blossom. When she first came to me, she didn’t smile, wouldn’t talk, lied about everything. The fucking sadness on her face . . . I knew she was in some sort of trouble. It was damn hard, but I didn’t push or pry.”

“When did you figure out who Callie really was?”

Thorpe sent him a skeptical glare. “And admit to knowingly harboring a fugitive so you have a reason to arrest me? Not happening.”

Sean tossed his hands in the air. “If I’d wanted to arrest you for that, I could have done it back in Dallas. And if I trumped up a charge and threw you in jail, Callie would never forgive me. As much as I hate to say it, I need your help to find her.”

Pretty speech, but that didn’t mean Thorpe trusted the fed. “What happens when we do?”

“You mean who gets the girl? That’s up to Callie.” Sean sighed. “She loves us both.”

Another truth. The even uglier truth was that he’d never fought for her. For years, Thorpe had denied how much he cared, pretended that he knew nothing about her feelings. Why would the girl ever choose a divorced man fifteen years her senior who’d only ever rebuffed her over the hot, young agent who couldn’t wait to tell her that he loved her?

“Wouldn’t your superiors frown on you for getting involved with a ‘person of interest’?” Thorpe asked. It was a weak argument, but the best he had.

The truth was, if Callie loved and trusted a man, she would always stand beside him. Funny how clearly Thorpe could see that if he’d acknowledged the feelings they shared and proven that she could trust him with her identity, Callie would still be at Dominion. She would never have run off before talking through the issues or intentionally leave him broken.

He might be too jaded to give Callie the devotion she deserved, but that didn’t make Mackenzie good for her, either. He was just another brand of wrong, as far as Thorpe could tell.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, but I won’t let anything happen to her,” the fed vowed, sending him a challenging stare. “I’ve answered your question. You answer mine.”

“All right. I figured out who she was a couple of years back. Ultimately, it’s her eyes.”

Sean nodded. “They’re so blue, you can’t miss them. It’s one reason she’s worn colored contacts more often than not for years. So why did you let her stay once you realized who she was?”

“You think I should have tossed her out when she needed someone to protect her? Fuck, no.”

“In your shoes, I would have made the same choice. It’s good that she’s got someone else in her corner,” he admitted. “How long have you been in love with her?”

Thorpe tried hard not to grit his teeth. “Can we skip this chat?”

“You started it,” Sean reminded.

“And you turned it around to interrogate me quickly enough.”

Sean sat back with a grin. “Occupational hazard.”

Thorpe grunted, but he felt a ghost of a smile bend his lips. He didn’t like Mackenzie, exactly, but now that the guy wasn’t pretending to be someone else, he didn’t hate the fed quite so much. “What does Callie’s file say about her that I don’t know?”

“Classified.”

“We’re back to this game? All right, when you want to ask me something about the woman today, you’ll be barking up the wrong tree.”

Sean sighed. “This mission would have been so much easier without you.”

“Callie would still be at Dominion if it wasn’t for you.”

Exasperation crossed his face. “Look, I’m not authorized to tell you anything outright . . . but I can’t stop you from guessing. As soon as you tell me how long you’ve been in love with her.”

Thorpe sent Mackenzie a speculative glance. He’d guessed that Sean wasn’t above bending the rules, but found having that confirmed helpful. And even if he was no good for Callie, Thorpe ached to fill in some of the gaps in his knowledge about the girl. “Easily over three years.” Not that it’s ever going to matter. “Happy?”

“That’s a long time to have a stiff dick, old man.”

That jibe hit a bit too close to home. “Fuck off.”

“Hey, it’s good for me. Your loss is my gain.”

“It’s not over yet,” Thorpe threatened, sadly aware that it most likely was.

Sean shrugged. “Only Callie can settle this argument. In the meantime, you want to know something in her file or not.”

Prick. “Yeah. I’ve often wondered how Callie supported herself in other cities before she came to me. Your file say anything about that?”

“Yes. She’s fallen back on the same occupation several times in several cities. Always with different names, of course. Any guesses?”

“Besides waitressing?”

“She’s done that more than once, so I’ll give you a point for that answer. But I’m thinking of something else.”

“You’re enjoying holding this over my head,” Thorpe accused.

“Yep.” With a grin, Sean shrugged. “Sue me.”

Rolling his eyes, Thorpe focused on the empty road and the sign that told him it was forty miles to the nearest town. “Callie’s great at a lot of things. She speaks fluent French, but there’s not a big calling for that here.”

“Nope.”

“She’s an organizational dynamo, and I’m sure she could do that professionally, but opening her own business would put down too many roots for her, so I’ll bet that’s not it, either.”

“I’ve searched Callie’s room more than once,” Sean admitted. “She’s extremely organized.”

“She made my sty of an office the neatest it’s ever been. She has a good head for math, too.”

“According to her grades, she was good in most of her classes.”

Thorpe smiled. “Except science, I’ll bet. I enjoy some of the shows on the Science Channel, and she occasionally curls up with me during off-hours to watch. She seems lost half the time.”

That made Mackenzie laugh. “I can picture that. Ever seen the program narrated by Morgan Freeman? I like that one.”

Through the Wormhole? Me, too.” Thorpe turned a stare on him, shocked that they agreed on anything. In fact, they were almost getting along.

Sean cleared his throat. “Keep guessing. Another way Callie made ends meet?”

Yeah, moving on . . . Thorpe was uncomfortable with the concept of the two of them being chummy. “She’s a disaster in the kitchen. Cereal might be too tough for her, so I’m guessing she didn’t cook as a kid. And how would she have learned? I’m sure her father employed a full staff, nannies—chefs, gardeners, a personal valet—the works.”

“According to her files, yes,” Sean confirmed.

Which made one of his most precious memories of Callie all the sweeter. Thorpe smiled. “She knows how much I like Italian cream cake and tried to make it, along with a lovely dinner for my last birthday. The meal was horrific, and we both laughed. But the cake was actually pretty good.”

His words seemed to hit Sean between the eyes like a bullet. The fact that she’d tried so hard to please Thorpe clearly left him feeling out in the cold. Oddly, Thorpe understood. Every time he’d see her dress up for Sean or kneel for the fucker, it felt like a two-by-four to his gut.

“Since she never made any money cooking, I suspect Callie could earn her living either singing or dancing. She’s exceptional at both.”

“Wow, you do know her.” Sean looked somewhere between awed and annoyed. “Singing. That’s how she paid her bills more than once. In fact, during her brief stint in Nashville, an executive for a major label saw her at a bar and offered her a record deal. She made an appointment to visit his office the next day.”

“And never showed?” Thorpe guessed.

“Exactly. She skipped town overnight. I didn’t know she could dance. Her files indicate that she had dance classes, but so did my cousins. That didn’t help them.” Sean snorted.

Thorpe laughed and found himself relaxing a bit. “The last time I saw her dance was just before you came. I hosted a charity auction for wounded soldiers and their families back in March. Slave-for-a-day kind of thing. She danced onstage and worked up enthusiasm for the crowd.”

“Callie has great legs, so I’m not surprised it worked.”

“Who bought her?”

“I did.” Thorpe had been unable to watch anyone else touch her, so he’d given her the night off if she promised to spend it alone in her room. He’d spent it with someone else . . . thinking of her.

Sean’s smile faded. “I don’t like the thought that I may never see her dance.”

“I don’t like thinking that I’ll never hear about Callie’s childhood from her. The few times I tried to probe about her past—before I knew who she was, of course—she was either closemouthed or sarcastic.”

Sean shot him a speculative look. “I’m surprised you didn’t beat her ass for it.”

“I was tempted.”

The fed grunted. “So, Callie was twenty-one when she came to Dominion? What was she like?”

“She had a chip on her shoulder that warned everyone away for months. The girl only spoke to me because she had to. I’ll never forget . . . I found her crying on the back patio after she’d been there a few weeks. Callie judiciously avoided anything remotely personal with everyone. But those tears . . .” Thorpe shook his head. “I watched her for a few minutes, then I couldn’t stand it. I tried to help.”

“She rebuffed you.”

“Instantly,” Thorpe confirmed. “If I wanted to talk about BDSM or work, she was all ears. The second I asked anything personal, she clammed up.”

“When did she finally let you close?”

“I found the first chink in her armor at Christmas. God, Callie loves it. Decorates everything in sight. I praised her wildly, and she started softening.”

“I didn’t see anything in her file about that.”

Thorpe shrugged. “I only have sketchy details about a sliver of her time before she came to Dominion, but it was obvious to me that Callie enjoys Christmas because it’s a holiday for family.”

“I’m guessing that since she doesn’t have any, she adopted everyone at the club as her own.” Sean closed his eyes. “See, this is why I could never picture her as a hardened criminal. Even if she planned to run off with that Holden prick, Callie wanted a sense of belonging. A woman like that would never kill her loved ones.”

“Precisely. I was shocked that first holiday season with Callie. She fancied the place up, organized a party, made everything run like a well-oiled machine . . . then stood in the corner and watched like a little girl with her nose pressed to the glass.”

Frowning, Sean shook his head. “Then she has come a long way. Callie teases most everyone at Dominion now. I guess I have you to thank for the change. I hate to admit it, but you’ve taken good care of her.”

With the sun glaring through the back window, Thorpe flipped his wrist up to stare at his watch, uncomfortable with the man’s praise. How much more could he have healed Callie if he was capable of actually fucking trying?

“How long does it take to fly from New Orleans to Vegas?” Thorpe spit out. “Three hours? Four? Shouldn’t she be there by now?”

“I’d ask the bureau to track the flight, but . . .” He looked vaguely uneasy.

The truth hit Thorpe. “You’re doing this under the radar, aren’t you?”

“I’ve said enough.”

“Look, we’re not best pals, but we both have a vested interest in finding Callie. We’ve got hours of driving ahead of us and we’re in this shit together. So you better be honest with me or I’ll leave you on the side of this damn road and find her without you.”

Spreading his knees and staring out the window, Sean sighed. “As my grandfather would have said, some of the higher-ups are a dodgy lot. They’ve always acted a bit evasive about this case, but over the past few weeks, something’s changed. I can’t put my finger on it. I just have this gut feeling that if I gave them any indication Callie has fled, it would open up a can of worms I might not be able to close. I think they’d start a full-fledged manhunt. They might even insist that I arrest her. I can’t do that.”

And if Sean couldn’t arrest her, Thorpe didn’t think he’d turn her in, even for a two-million-dollar bounty. He might be wrong . . . but he didn’t think so.

“Shit!” Thorpe didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Can you lean on them, find out anything?”

“I’ve tried. Often, agents are at the bottom of the information totem pole. Politics are always on a need-to-know basis, and they think I don’t need to know.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Right now, I don’t have the energy. I just want Callie back, a decent meal, and a good night’s sleep—in that order.”

Thorpe wanted that, too, along with a passionate, grinding slide into Callie’s undoubtedly tight pussy so he could hear her cry out in his ear while she dug her little nails into his back, just as she’d done to Sean. He didn’t like another man fucking her, but he liked the fact that he’d never had the pleasure of feeling her himself even less.

Listen to him whine . . . He wasn’t in her best interest. Whatever Mackenzie’s flaws or agenda, the fed loved her—enough to risk his job for her. Thorpe couldn’t fault Sean for that.

“So, about the ex-wife, Melissa . . .” Mackenzie began.

Thorpe choked, then took a swig of cold coffee to recover. “Nothing to say about her.”

“She left, so you’re bitter? Or gun shy?” Sean probed.

“Where the fuck do you get off questioning me? We’re talking about Callie.”

“I’m trying to understand you. Your bad experience with the lousy ex is the reason you kept Callie at arm’s length all these years, right?”

No, but he wasn’t spilling all his demons for Sean. “There’s a significant age gap, too.”

“Which is more your hang-up than hers, I’d bet. What else?”

Thorpe glanced at his crappy burner phone, wondering where Logan’s call was that Callie had reached Vegas all right. If Logan didn’t call in five, he’d ring the former SEAL. But whatever he did, he wasn’t replying to Sean.

“So it’s mostly your own fear.” The fed supplied his own answer. “I guess that makes sense in a chicken shit sort of way. But one thing has me stumped. Why decide to get possessive after I entered the picture? You’re off relationships because of the ex, so you tell yourself that you don’t want Callie. But you don’t want anyone else to have her, either. You’ve got your head up your ass, Thorpe. It’s not fair to her.”

Sean’s words echoed Lance’s and rang a little too true. Damn it if he didn’t want to punch the man. “None of this is any of your fucking business.”

“It is if you want to know anything else in Callie’s file.” Sean gave him an expectant smile.

Thorpe rubbed his broad forehead, wishing he could massage away the beginnings of his headache. He really wanted to toss Mackenzie from the vehicle, but that wasn’t in Callie’s best interest. She had to be priority number one. “At first, she’d barely talk to me. After she’d been at Dominion a few months, I used her for a teaching demo. Of course I was attracted to her from the beginning, but Callie was a pure novice. I didn’t know if she was truly submissive or was pretending because she needed a job. I found out quickly that she was. Our chemistry was . . . not like anything I’d ever experienced. It shocked me.”

“So you backed away?”

“No. I should have, but Callie was far more submissive than I’d dared to hope, not to mention addicting. It wasn’t long before I used her for every demo. It was the only excuse I would give myself to touch her. She still kept her distance more often than not, but damn, the way she responded to me . . . I was very seriously considering breaking my own rule about never taking an exclusive sub.

“Then I was watching some silly news program one day. They showed a picture of Callie at sixteen, the same one you have on your phone. It all clicked. I hoped I was wrong, so I invented a new excuse to touch her and see if she had a scar on her hip where that bullet got her.”

“And when you found it, you cut off all but the most professional contact.” Sean didn’t phrase it like a question. He knew the answer.

Though Thorpe didn’t like being transparent, he supposed his motives weren’t that hard to deduce.

“Yes. She was always going to leave me. It was just a matter of when.” As soon as he’d had to stop touching Callie, Thorpe realized just how attached to her he’d become. And it had scared the hell out of him. He’d punished her by being an absolute bastard.

God, didn’t he sound like a pussy, afraid of his own emotions?

“You didn’t want to endure heartache again after your divorce.”

Sean didn’t know the half of it.

“Something like that. But seeing you with her . . .” Thorpe let out a deep breath. “I realized then that all my attempts to deny my feelings had been a fucking waste. Happy now? Can we change the subject?”

“Almost.” Sean cut a stare over at him. “If we find her, are you going to be willing to risk your heart for her? Because if you’re not, you shouldn’t bother fighting me for her. We both agreed that she’s not meant to be alone.”

Thorpe wasn’t sure what the hell he was going to do. He wanted to fight for her . . . but what was best for Callie? “You’re not entirely prepared to handle her.”

Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “What does that mean?”

If you’re really a Dom, you haven’t been one for long. You’re a bit too lenient with the girl. Sometimes, she’s a handful because she wants your attention. You give it to her and let her top from the bottom.” Thorpe tsked at him. “I’ve also noticed that you’re not comfortable with all the equipment in the dungeon. If we find her, are you going to be willing to expand your boundaries to be what she needs? If not, you should leave her to me.”

That made Sean indignant. “Fuck you. I may not have been an acknowledged pervert for two decades, but I’m more than willing to ‘expand my boundaries’ to hang on to Callie.”

“Pfft.” Thorpe rolled his eyes. “You’ve been at this . . . what? Less than a year?”

“Actually, I got interested a couple of years back, went to a few clubs in Florida with some friends. But long-term undercover assignments didn’t exactly leave me a lot of time to get my kink on.”

Thorpe opened his mouth to drop Mackenzie with a scathing remark about wannabe Doms, but his phone rang. They both pounced for it, but he was closer and pressed the button to answer the call. “Logan?”

“Put it on speaker,” Sean demanded.

“Can you both hear me?” Logan asked.

Feeling a supreme irritation that damn near choked him, Thorpe hit the speaker button and laid the phone on the console between them. “Yeah.”

“I’m here,” Sean advised. “Is Callie with your friend?”

“I put her on the plane. One of the flight attendants says she remembers seeing Callie napping at the very back. There was no way she could have gotten off that bird in midair. But Elijah said she never met him in baggage claim, like I instructed her to.”

“You don’t know where she is?” Sean growled.

“She’s missing?” Thorpe echoed his incredulous tone.

“Yeah.” Logan sounded somber. “But that isn’t the worst news. Elijah spotted some dude in a uniform he’d never seen flashing Callie’s picture to the passengers just as they cleared the secure area of the terminal. The guy asked a lot of questions.”

Thorpe’s veins ran icy with foreboding, then he snapped his gaze to Sean. “Uniform? Like military?”

“That’s the impression he gave me, yeah,” Logan confirmed. “But not one he’d ever seen. That, along with everything else, sends up a big red flag for me.”

“Me, too. How is this possible?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense.” Logan sighed. “I didn’t tell a single other soul besides Elijah and you two that I’d put her on the plane.”

“Thorpe and I haven’t been out of one another’s sight since.” The fed’s expression said he didn’t like any of this.

“And Elijah wouldn’t talk. He’s tight. Besides, I didn’t even tell him who she really was,” Logan explained. “Callie didn’t mention anything about being hunted by anyone else when she told me why she wanted to leave Dallas. Could the feds be after her, Mackenzie?”

“If they were, I should be the first to know. Even if I was out of the loop, they wouldn’t come after her in some uniform.”

“You’re right,” Logan agreed. “Everyone Elijah talked to from the flight seemed wary or shaken after the uniformed dude left. Whatever mess that girl has gotten herself into, she’s in way over her head. You’ve got to get to Vegas and find her before this asshole does.”

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