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 f**king 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 f**king 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.