First in the room with Anders was the redhead Eliza had seen on the beach a few days ago. He followed Anders down the row of dolled-up teens. “Maybe someone younger tonight.” He looked over his shoulder and winked at Eliza. “Since I can’t have the princess.”
Eliza’s father’s eyes turned dark. He stopped and gave the redheaded man a shove. “That’s my daughter. Don’t look at her!” Another shove and the man stepped back. He was trembling. At the door, two guards moved closer, waiting for Eliza’s father’s command. Instead her father glared at the customer. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” The redhead didn’t dare glance at Eliza again. He made his choice from the younger teen girls and one of the guards escorted him out of the room.
One at a time the men filed in and chose their entertainment for the night. The men left, the evening housemaids took the girls back to their rooms and only Eliza and her father remained. She started to leave, but he held up his hand. “Not yet.” He motioned to the guard still at the door. “Now. Bring him in now.”
What was this? So soon? Eliza felt her heart rate quicken. Was her groom here to meet her already? She wanted to jump out the window and run as far and fast from here as she could.
Before Eliza could ask, another man entered the room. He was tall and striking. Dark hair and a clean-shaven face. Not a day over thirty, if Eliza had to guess. This was her groom, Eliza had no doubt. How did such a young guy lose his soul? she wondered. Or were all rich people wretched?
“Eliza.” Her father walked to her. “This is Henry Thomas Ellington, the Fourth.” He motioned for the man to join them. “This is your groom.”
Her father took gentle hold of her arm, like he was a doting, kindhearted parent. “Henry Thomas, this is Eliza Ann Lawrence.”
“Hello.” Henry Thomas held out his hand. He wore a sharp white dress shirt and a pale blue tie. An Italian suit that rivaled anything Eliza had seen at the Palace.
She gritted her teeth, but she didn’t hesitate. “Hello.” This was nonnegotiable. She curtsied and lifted her hand to his. He took it and kissed it. The motion repulsed her. How dare he come here to claim her, like she was a commodity?
“Eliza… I’ll see you tonight.” If Henry Thomas was trying to be charming it fell flat.
“Yes.” Eliza nodded. This was a business deal, nothing more. She held her breath again until Henry Thomas left.
When he was gone, her father paced to the door and back. “You will have two nights with Henry Thomas. Consider it your honeymoon.” He faced her. “After that, Mr. Ellington will sign papers committing to this marriage.” His smile faded. “Be kind to him, Eliza. I’ve been planning this since you were nine years old.” He touched her cheek.
Eliza wanted to scream at him. “I know that.”
“Watch your sarcasm.” He snarled. “I’ve given you everything, Eliza. All your life.”
She looked away. What sort of monster would use his own daughter? For a business deal? Sickening, Eliza thought. And once more she remembered her dream of escaping. When Henry Thomas left her room tonight, she could escape the Palace and run to the police. She would tell them everything she knew, and if Henry Thomas or her father killed her, so be it. Because how could she marry Henry Thomas knowing that it would mean even more drug trafficking, even more girls captured and enslaved?
With almost imperceptible shifts of his eyes, her father surveyed her. “Don’t let me down, Eliza.” He turned and left the room.
Eliza wondered if she would throw up on the cold floor. Her knees shook and her head hurt. What would Henry Thomas expect of her tonight? She thought of her father. He must’ve seen the hatred in her eyes. Nausea consumed her. She would gladly push her father off a cliff and watch him hit the rocks below. But even that wouldn’t be what he deserved. Nothing would.
Not until he wound up in hell.
One of the housemaids entered. “Miss, you need to get down to the beach. Your father wants you to get your sun. Then you need to prepare for tonight.”
Eliza glanced back at the window. She could leave. She could cross to the window, and jump and…
She turned to the housemaid. “I… I don’t want to prepare.”
“Your father insists.”
Eliza squeezed her eyes shut. The girls had told her what would happen later. After her time at the beach. There would be bathing and essential oils, primping and makeup. Her father was right. In all ways that mattered, her honeymoon would begin tonight. A honeymoon for the most macabre wedding—a ceremony set to take place at the end of the week. If she lived up to Henry Thomas’s standard.
The events were out of order—like everything about her life.
Eliza went to her room and dressed in her bathing suit and cover-up. Her groom would arrive at the Palace at eight o’clock. Just as the sun went down. Because the most horrible deeds were always done at night, where light couldn’t touch them. Couldn’t expose them. Eliza had read that in one of her books.
And where was God in all of this?
Most of the older girls didn’t believe in God. Or they were angry at Him. All of this is His fault, they would say if the subject came up. Eliza didn’t agree. God may have forgotten her, but He existed because that’s what her mama taught her long ago. The devil was real. Tonight would prove that.
So there had to be a God.
But right now nighttime was still a long way off. The next few hours were the only part of the day when Eliza felt human. The beach was her time alone.
Which meant for the next few hours Eliza could breathe and remember her mama’s face and little Daniel’s voice. She could read. Something she did often. Strangely, the Palace had a library, and Eliza visited it as often as she could. Books let her live in a different world, if only until she read the last page. Anything good in her life happened at the shore. And it was where—if she were lucky—today she might even see God.
Out beyond the waves, there at the back edge of the ocean.
* * *
SOMETHING WAS OFF.
Anders McMillan knew it and for that reason, once Eliza was out of the house he had a meeting with four of his men. He gathered them in the boardroom on the first floor. They sat, but he paced.
The men knew better than to break the silence. This was Anders’s meeting. After three minutes, he stopped and faced them. “What did you think of the men today, the customers?”
This wasn’t the first time Anders had asked them this. His operation here at the Palace was risky. If they got sloppy, the feds from the States or even the Belizean police would shut him down. They would have done it by now if they could have. A long time ago.
None of his team made eye contact with him. As if they weren’t sure what to say.
Anders slammed his fist on the table. “Talk to me! What did you think of today’s customers?”
“Only a few of them were new.” His lead guy looked around. “Right? Maybe six of the men?”
“Seven.” Another of the men nodded. “I took notes.”
“Okay.” Anders rolled his eyes. He needed a Xanax. Or a whiskey. Something to take the edge off. “So there were seven. I’m not asking for a ledger, here.” Maybe he needed a new team. He lowered his voice and stared at the men, one at a time. “I’m asking for your opinion. Did you sense anything? Suspect anyone?”