Карен Кингсбери - A Distant Shore [calibre]

“Maggie. It’s okay.” Eliza turned in her seat. “We’ll be safe tonight.”

“I… I was safe at the Palace.” The child’s tears came harder. “I want to go back.”

Eliza gritted her teeth. Of all the diabolical ways her father and his men had treated the girls, brainwashing was one of the worst. She could hear the things he said to the girls before their fourteenth birthdays. You’ll be safe as long as you’re here. No one will take care of you like I will. Don’t ever leave, little ones. The world outside our gates is very, very dangerous.

“Maggie.” Eliza looked into the child’s eyes. “Honey, you don’t want to go back.”

Behind her she heard the voice of one of the soldiers. “We need to get you to a hospital once we land.”

Eliza looked to the rear of the plane. Luke’s arm was propped up on a pillow now, his eyes closed.

“You’ll probably need some blood, Jack. The wrap’s slowing it, but you’re still bleeding.”

“Jack?” Eliza whispered. She blinked a few times. Jack! So he had lied to her about his name. Again. Her anger toward him built once more. Of course he hadn’t been completely honest with her. He was a man, and all men lied. They lied and they used girls.

Even Jack.

Eliza turned her attention back to Maggie. “Everything’s going to be okay, sweetie.” But how could she know that? Men weren’t the only ones who lied. How many lies had she told these girls? I want it to be true, she thought. Please let it be true Let everything be okay. She pulled the girl close. “No one will ever hurt you again, Maggie.”

“Eliza… do you really think so?” Maggie sniffed a few times and lifted her blue eyes. “No one’s going to hurt us?”

“No one.” Eliza nodded. Then she closed her eyes. They had to be okay. Because these children needed a real life once they landed in Texas.

And suddenly Eliza felt a new and strange idea rise within her. Not an idea but an emotion. It felt like anger, but it was more than that. A desire for revenge and justice. She was the reason most of these girls had been at the Palace. Now she was going to do something to make things right. She would work to help these sixteen girls find new lives and she would somehow find her own, too.

Never mind what Jack believed. Eliza wasn’t a child. She was old enough to make a difference, old enough to help these girls and others trapped in sex trafficking. Because there had to be others, and if she had been wily enough to help lure girls toward slavery, then she would be wise enough to draw them away.

The idea grew and took shape and as they landed in San Antonio, it became a fierce determination. She would become a police officer or… what was it Jack did? FBI work? Yes, that’s what she would do. She would go undercover and she would spend her life putting people like her father behind bars forever. Rescuing girls like Maggie Mae and Rosa.

Making up for the past with every waking hour.

As long as she lived.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

—Jeremiah 29:11

Jack spent two days in the hospital. A surgeon removed Anders’s bullet from his shoulder and put him on IV antibiotics for the infection that had started. The bullet had missed his major muscles and tendons, so he would have full use of his shoulder.

Which was the only way he could continue working as a special agent. Aiming a gun required the use of both arms.

Now he checked the wound in the bathroom mirror. The incision was smaller than he’d expected, just a red and pink indentation to show that he’d ever been back to Belize, ever encountered Anders McMillan.

Nothing compared to the price he’d paid last time he visited the country.

Today was his first day back at the office, and Jack could think of just one person. Eliza Lawrence. The victim recovery plan for the sixteen minor girls was going better than expected. Oliver had given Jack the update. After they spent a few nights in a safe home, social services had taken over. Four of the girls had already been reunited with their families. Mothers and fathers who had still been hoping their little girls would be found.

Jack smiled. He could only imagine those reunions.

Of course, the state would follow up to make sure the girls got medical assistance and psychological care. Counseling would be part of their lives, maybe forever. The other twelve girls had been placed in foster care—at a new group home. Oliver had apparently met the two sets of parents running the place.

“As bad as life has been for these girls, today they finally got a break.” Oliver had sounded emotional. “The house parents are kind people, people of faith. They quit their jobs as counselors, bought a parcel of land and built a massive group home. All so they could help children coming out of trafficking.”

The news was more than Jack could’ve hoped for. Maybe God was listening, after all. According to the commanders in charge of the Night Stalker unit and the Navy SEALs, the mission couldn’t have gone better. None of the Night Stalkers or SEALs were injured in the raid.

The outcome wasn’t so good for Anders’s men. Three of them had died in the battle, along with Anders. Good riddance, Jack thought. Another six of the man’s guards had been apprehended and brought back to Los Angeles, where more of these cases were heard, and where the guards would be held behind bars without bail until their trial.

Betsy Norman was arrested without incident. She was currently booked on enough charges to lock her up forever.

Jack drew a deep breath. Can’t ask for more than that.

His arm was still in a sling. So he dressed with his other hand and an hour later he was sitting in Oliver Layton’s office, the first time Jack had seen his boss since he returned from Belize.

“I talked to Terri.” Oliver leaned back and studied him. “The bullet in your shoulder. You saved our informant’s life. Eliza Lawrence.”

This was exactly what Jack wanted to talk about. “Where is she?”

“Yes, that. I’m not happy about it.” A shadow fell over Oliver’s face. “We’re struggling.”

That’s what Jack figured. “Terri told me she was sent to a residential placement center.”

“We tried that.” Oliver hesitated. “The place was full. She’s an adult, so she can’t stay with the other girls. The services we have for children don’t apply to her.”

Frustration filled Jack’s veins. “That’s wrong, sir.” He could picture Eliza’s blue eyes. “So what if she’s twenty. She might as well be fifteen. She’s never known anything but the Palace. We can’t just turn her out on the streets.”

“I agree.” Oliver stood and faced the window behind his desk. “Since 2000 we’ve tried to find the exact right way to help victims of trafficking. But our programs are all very specific.”

Jack knew only too well. As a victim of trafficking—which she was, even though she was never technically sold—if Eliza wanted citizenship, no problem. If she applied for a small business loan, she’d get preference. But how was she supposed to live in the meantime? Jack clutched the arms of the chair. “Where is she now, sir?”

“She’s not a Texas resident, Jack. That excludes her from a number of services. The ones she’s eligible for are full.” He paused. “And honestly, she’d face the same thing in any state.” Oliver turned to Jack again. He paused longer than usual. “She’s in a homeless shelter. I gave her food vouchers and a bag of clothes from the Goodwill. I had nothing else, Jack.”