Forgiving Paris: A Novel(41)

The psychiatrist went on to say that outward expressions of trauma might come later. “Jack knows her best. I approve of the two of them working together. If she starts to show signs of a breakdown or repressed anxiety, he’ll see it. And he can get her back here the same day.”

Details of the mission came together quickly.

A group of six high-level traffickers had been working in Nassau for the past three months, recruiting girls and customers at a record rate. But there was a problem. The FBI’s data on the group was incomplete. Sending a team in to raid the operation would be a mistake at this point.

The bureau needed additional surveillance. Someone to trail the men when they went into town and watch the way they talked to solitary young girls. No one in the FBI would be as adept at recognizing that as Eliza.

Jack and Eliza would train together for two weeks, studying photos of the stretch of beach where the criminal operation was most likely taking place. They would rehearse surveillance scenarios and practice what to do if things went wrong.

The trip would be less dangerous than most. A good starting point for the two, since the higher-ups had decided the pair might work together again someday. This first time out together they would fly to Nassau, pretending to be a newly married couple. They would stay on Paradise Island at the Reef, a part of the Atlantis Resort.

A corner Topaz suite would be their home base, a deluxe accommodation with two separate bedrooms, two separate locked entrances behind a single locked front door. From there they would daily venture over the arched white bridge a few miles into Nassau, to the strip of fish markets and tourist stands.

Before Eliza had agreed to the mission, Oliver and his superior first met with her to ask if she felt comfortable pretending to be married. “You and Jack will have to hold hands.” Oliver studied the young woman. “You must act like you’re in love with him. Otherwise the mission cannot work.”

Eliza hadn’t blinked. “That’s fine.”

Oliver’s boss chimed in. “There will be no kissing—unless it’s needed for yours or Jack’s safety. And of course you will stay in your separate rooms.” He paused. “Whenever you’re in public, you’ll play the part. When you’re in private quarters you’ll keep to your own rooms.”

“Sir”—Eliza’s answer had been chilling—“I’ve been acting all my life. Talking girls into coming to the Palace.” Her eyes had held a certainty even greater than before. “I am not interested in romance or love or sex. Pretending will be easy… especially with Agent Ryder.”

And with that, Oliver had the assurance he needed. He didn’t have to worry about Jack and Eliza falling in love. Hardly. She wasn’t a risk when it came to romantic dealings with his star undercover agent. Or any agent at the bureau. Terri had questioned the girl extensively in the days after her rescue. The fact was, Eliza had just one set of feelings for men.

She hated them.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

—Psalm 13:2



The one truth Jack could not admit to anyone, not even himself, was the thing Oliver Layton had so easily seen. He was falling for Eliza.

Jack didn’t want to care about the girl. He had made up his mind years ago never to fall in love. He would never marry and he wouldn’t have children. Rather, he would spend his days and months and years working for the bureau, putting his life in danger.

Again and again and again.

And if he died doing it, that was fine. This was the only life worth living.

But now, for the first time since he’d been sworn in, Jack cared about whether he came home at the end of the day. Because he wanted one more chance to see Eliza, to talk to her. To be near her. His feelings confused him and taunted him and mocked him when he tried to sleep at night.

It wasn’t that he cared for her the way an ordinary man might care for an ordinary woman. This wasn’t romance or love or butterflies. It was that one unbelievable truth, the single detail Jack couldn’t get past.

The fact that Eliza was the little girl he had saved.

Lately, Jack relived that single moment over and over, so that once again he was pushing through the current, swimming to the little girl. He had almost reached her when he could hear shouting from the beach behind him. And he was looking over his shoulder and seeing Shane, swimming toward him.

He’ll get back to shore, Jack would tell himself again. Someone will swim out to help. The little girl needed him. Who else is going to save her? And every time he replayed the moment, Jack chose the little girl. Every single time.

Her life… or his brother’s.

Jack had always wondered if rescuing the child had even mattered. Had she gone home from vacation and forgotten the ordeal ever took place? But now he knew the truth. So yes, he had feelings for her. Of course he did. He could still remember her clinging to his shoulders as he swam her to shore. Still feel her nearly dead body cradled against his chest as he ran up the beach. He handed her over and he could still see the way she lay limp in the woman’s arms.

Because of the constant memories, he found himself thinking about God in a way he hadn’t in years. Some one who had lost all that he had lost might not believe in God. Unless it was to believe God had singled him out for pain.

But now, Jack wasn’t sure. That blond little girl was back in his life, about to take a mission with him to the Bahamas. How could it not feel like some master plan that God had orchestrated?