A Distant Shore - Karen Kingsbury Page 0,15

with long pale blond hair. She was sitting on a rocky outcropping at the base of a cliff, her feet in the sand. The next was a close-up of the girl’s face.

No wonder her father thought he could sell Eliza Ann into a forced marriage. She was easily one of the most beautiful girls Jack had ever seen. The final picture showed the young woman sitting on a small stretch of sand along a breathtaking and familiar Belizean beach.

Despite the sunny sky, the girl’s blue eyes were colder than ice.

Never mind that her heart was still beating. It was obvious that the horrors she had lived alongside at the Palace had killed her long ago. Jack studied her. The anger and callousness in her eyes made her look older than her nineteen years.

Jack focused on what his boss was saying.

“Eliza and her father may have come from one of several Mennonite communities in central Belize. Or they may have come from the United States or Canada. We’re not sure. The girl is sometimes cared for by a woman named Betsy Norman. Aunt Betsy to Eliza. The woman claims she’s Eliza’s aunt. We aren’t sure about that. Surveillance tells us she’s in on the trafficking, so we plan to take her during the raid, also.”

“Yes.” TJ nodded. “Anders showed up in Belize City roughly a dozen years ago. We have recon on him since then—though never enough to arrest him and dismantle his ring.”

“Before that,” Pen shrugged, “we have no idea where he was, what he did for a living.”

Oliver crossed his arms. “We assume McMillan is a false name, since we have no record of him before his time in Belize City.”

Oliver paced across the room and stared out the window. “You’ll make a stop at a Mennonite village called Lower Barton Creek. There’s a historian there who might know something. Ike is our best hope to verify whether McMillan and his daughter came from a Belizean Mennonite village.”

“Right.” Pen nodded. “Ike Armstrong made a report eleven years ago about the disappearance of his granddaughter—Susan James—and the woman’s two young children. We haven’t found a connection between them and McMillan. But it’s worth looking into.”

Jack set his notebook down. “If Eliza knows she’s about to be forced into a marriage, why would she talk to me? Why would she trust anyone?”

“There’s more to the story.” Pen handed Jack a sheet of paper. It was a wanted poster with McMillan’s face. The first charge listed was murder. Three counts. “Last week we learned about McMillan’s other dirty secret. What happens to the Palace girls when they age out.”

Oliver hesitated. “On a girl’s twentieth birthday McMillan gives her an envelope of cash and a fake passport. Some fancy clothes, that sort of thing. Then he sends her off with a couple of his henchmen.”

Jack shifted in his seat. The pieces were coming together. “The girls never make it off the compound, is that it?” He leaned forward.

“Exactly. At least that’s what our research suggests.” Oliver sighed. “At twenty, the girls know enough to take McMillan down. We believe just after their twentieth birthdays, he pretends to give them a send-off. Then he has them killed.”

Jack clenched his jaw. “There has to be a special place in hell.”

“I’m sure.” TJ stood and paced to the window. After a few seconds he turned and looked at the others. “We have details about at least one case. We’re working with the Belizean police, and one of our contacts at the department says a Palace girl went missing a few years ago—a friend of Eliza’s named Alexa. Not long after, a tourist found the remains of a Palace girl. Beautiful brunette. Shot in the back. Her suitcase full of designer clothes was buried a few feet away.”

Oliver shook his head. “Here’s the point. If Eliza learns that Alexa was, indeed, killed by McMillan, by her very own father and his men, then we believe she might work with us. To save the other Palace girls.”

Jack waited. The finer details of his assignment were coming.

“What you’ll do, Jack, is head to Belize Monday morning. Like we said, you’ll visit the Mennonite community first. Acting like a long-lost Mennonite grandson, you’ll speak with Ike Armstrong, the community’s historian. Two Mennonite girls have gone missing over the last decade. We believe one or both of them wound up at the Palace.”

“Terrible.” Jack jotted down the name. Ike Armstrong.

“Ask Ike about his missing family. Rumor is they drowned, but see

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