Jack instructed the driver to take them to Solomon’s Fresh Market, not far from the bridge to Atlantis. Jack made the event sound fun. “I’ve been there before. They have the best cookies.”
“Okay.” Bella didn’t say anything to give them away. Almost as if she knew she could trust them.
As soon as they were out of the car, Jack took hold of Eliza’s hand, and she took hold of Bella’s. They had talked about this, how if they were able to rescue children in danger they would bring them here. A local informant worked at the Logos Christian bookstore, a few doors down from Solomon’s.
With the right knock, their door would open any time during the next few days. Right now that wasn’t necessary, since these were business hours. The three stepped inside the bookshop. There the clerk must’ve recognized Jack. She was a young woman in her early twenties, a Bahamian native who was working with several honest police officers—all of them aware of the likelihood of the trafficking ring in their midst.
When the raid went down in this city, it would be in part because this woman had helped make it happen. Brave and determined to save children, even if she died for the cause.
Eliza wanted to be just like her.
“I’m looking for an old Michael W. Smith album.” Jack smiled at the young woman. “Vinyl.”
“Ah, yes. Vinyl.” There didn’t seem to be other customers in the place, but they wouldn’t take a chance. “We keep the vinyls back here.”
She led them to a room at the rear of the store, and from there Jack called his police contact in Nassau. The conversation played on speakerphone, just loud enough for Eliza to hear. The Bahamian woman took Bella into an adjacent office so she wouldn’t hear what was happening.
The police officer confirmed that Bella lived in a troubled group home. Children had been taken from the house in recent months, with no sign of their whereabouts. Public officials were trying to get the home closed.
The man said he was dispatching an unmarked car to the rear of the store. “There is a couple from my church.” The officer sounded hopeful. “Bella will stay there. We can make a case for the girl to be handed over to this couple permanently.”
Eliza leaned against the wall in the back room. Her heart rate slowly returned to normal. She had done it! She had saved one child from trafficking! They had showed up just in time, and risked their cover to take her away from the predators.
Nothing had ever felt this good in all her life, not since her days in Lower Barton Creek.
Jack turned to her. Then he took her in his arms. For a long time he just held her, his hand on the back of her head, their hearts beating in time. Eliza had never known this feeling, the way it felt to be protected and cared for. She closed her eyes. Maybe love felt like this. And then something else occurred to her. There wasn’t a single person watching them. Which could only mean one thing.
Here, in this moment, Jack wasn’t acting.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
My heart pounds, my strength fails me; even the light has gone from my eyes.
—Psalm 38:10
Jack got the news from an informant still on the ground in Belize. Ike Armstrong, the historian from Lower Barton Creek, had died in his sleep. He hadn’t been reunited with his family, after all. The news hit hard. Jack made himself a morning coffee and took it out on his deck. The Topaz had a bigger balcony than any other suite at the Reef. He angled the chaise lounge toward the water.
Poor Ike. He had been so sure he’d meet his family again one day, that somehow they’d be found and come home. That they’d all be together in time.
Jack downed a swig of his coffee and stared out at the sea. Maybe Ike and his family really were in the same place now. The place where Jack’s brother and parents lived… if God were real. He pulled one knee up and remembered the rescue yesterday.
When Oliver first brought up the idea of pairing him with Eliza, Jack obviously had his doubts. Not that he didn’t want to spend four days walking the Bahamian beaches with her. But he had wondered if she’d really bring an advantage to the surveillance efforts.
Jack shouldn’t have second-guessed her.
Eliza had an innate ability to spot traffickers, victims and children about to be captured. She couldn’t just see it, she could sense it. But there was a problem. In her fervor, she had almost blown their cover. Jack pictured the events again. If he hadn’t run up with his story about Eliza loving the swings, the men might’ve taken her at gunpoint.
Of course they were armed. The handle of one of their guns was visible the entire time. Eliza had seen it, too, but she hadn’t cared. She only wanted to save the young girl. She’s like me, Jack thought. But Eliza would need to be more careful, and he would have to make sure nothing happened to her.