A Distant Shore - Karen Kingsbury Page 0,53

his brows together. “I would think you’d know me better.”

“Well… it’s a rule worth repeating.” Oliver softened his tone. “You never know. The two of you might work together at some point. The lines need to be clear-cut.”

“Always, sir.” Jack looked stone sure. “You don’t have to tell me again.”

* * *

AS IT TURNED out, Oliver did have to tell Jack again. Jack and Eliza, both. Because four weeks later the brass decided they could use Eliza for a surveillance trip to Nassau, Bahamas. And Jack was the perfect operative to go with her. He was closest to her age, and he was the agent she knew and trusted most.

By then Oliver and his superiors had talked with Eliza’s counselor at length. The woman had found no reason to keep Eliza from the field. “Being on mission is her reason to exist,” the therapist told them. “She is singly focused. Not afraid or anxious. No nightmares. Very different than victims who have actually been trafficked.”

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

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