Jack took a few seconds, but then he shook his head. “No… no, he told me his great-granddaughter’s name. He was very worried about her.” He searched her face. “The girl’s name was—”
“Lizzie.” Eliza moved into his arms and brought her face alongside his. “Lizzie James, Jack. That’s me.” She lowered her hands and eased her arms around his bare waist. Then she pressed her face to his chest and did something that absolutely wasn’t an act, something Jack had never expected with Eliza. She started to cry.
“I should’ve told you I was from Lower Barton Creek. I was trying… trying to keep my two worlds separate. It was the part of my past I wanted to keep to myself.” She closed her eyes for a moment before looking at him again. “And now… now my great-grandfather is gone.”
Her crying was too soft for anyone to notice but him. Still, he could feel her tears spilling onto his skin. Jack didn’t care if someone was watching them or not. He ran his hand along her hair and then wrapped his arms around her.
This can’t be happening! Eliza was Lizzie James? That meant that the woman Ike had talked about—Agnes Potter—was probably Betsy Norman. He felt sick. How come he hadn’t connected those dots sooner?
And why hadn’t he pushed her about where she’d been from? She had told him she couldn’t remember, but of course she could. And of course the girl was from Lower Barton Creek. The whole thing made sense now.
“Eliza, I’m sorry.” He moved back a few inches and faced her. “I didn’t know you were from Lower… How come I didn’t see it?”
“You mean… you knew his great-granddaughter was Lizzie James?” Tears still streamed down her face. “You met with my great-grandfather?”
Jack felt terrible. “He was a very… very kind man, Eliza.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Even though the last thing on his mind was the role he was supposed to be playing.
Eliza shaded her eyes. “What did he say… about me?”
“He believed you were still alive. You and your mother and brother.” Again Jack could see the sincerity in the old man’s face. “He told me your age. I think he was off several years.” Disappointment washed over Jack. “We figured out his great-granddaughter would’ve been in her early twenties. And there were no girls that age at the Palace.”
Eliza closed her eyes. When she opened them, it was clear she didn’t blame him for not realizing earlier who she was. “What did he tell you?”
“How this strange American woman named Agnes Potter came to the village and how he thought the woman was trouble. I had no idea the woman was Betsy Norman.” He hurt for Eliza. “When your mother and brother and you didn’t come home, your great-grandfather told me that word came back to the village that all of you had drowned.” Jack pulled her close again. “Your great-grandfather knew I was doing a raid on the Palace. It was beyond him, that something so wicked had made its way to Belize.”
“My great-papa.” She looked up, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. “He was the nicest man. He loved me… so much.”
Anyone watching them would merely think they were anxious to get back to the hotel. No one would’ve guessed they were having the most important conversation in Eliza’s life. Jack felt a sting in his own eyes. “So… Agnes Potter changed her name to Betsy Norman?”
“I guess.” Eliza sniffed. “I never knew her as anything other than Aunt Betsy.” She eased back and searched his face. “You’re saying Betsy returned to Lower Barton Creek and told my great-papa that I’d drowned with my mother and brother?”
“Yes.” Jack brushed his fingers against her cheek. Her skin was softer than air. “There were police photos of three sets of footprints headed to the shore. And none coming out. Your father’s men must have set that up, swimming down the beach before exiting the water. And making it look like three people drowned. You, your mother, and your brother.”
Eliza shook her head. She studied him. “They told me there were two sets that day. So obviously their whole story was a lie.” Anger began to set in her features.
“Careful.” He kissed the top of her head. “By now, we’re being watched.” The longer they stayed on the beach, lost in each other, the more the traffickers would believe their act.
Eliza worked to find her smile again. “What if my mother and brother are still alive?”