“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 f**king 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?”