Slow Burn (Boston Beauties #2)

by Dawn Edwards

  This whole entire thing scared the shit out of me, but marrying Matt scared me more, so here I was, slowly inching myself farther and farther into the cold water in the pitch black of night, until it was just my fingers holding on to the boat. I was holding on to the back of the yacht, currently being pulled along with my body submerged in the water. With one final silent prayer, I let go, and watched the yacht sail away into the night, as I floated in complete and utter darkness and silence, the only sound the water lapping around me. I listened out for the hum of a boat, but so far, I couldn't hear anything other than my pulse and my internal voice berating me for being so brazen.

  It felt as if I’d been in the water for over an hour, but in reality, it was no more than ten minutes as Breton had promised me. I heard the hum of a motor get louder and louder and saw a light approaching, slowing down the closer it got to me. I had a waterproof flashlight that I pointed towards their boat and turned on and off. They slowed down and I started to swim towards them. Two very large arms pulled me from the water and up into the boat; I saw it was one of the men from yesterday. Before I could even look around, we were jolted backwards as the boat sped off at what I was sure were record speeds towards land.

  There were two guys helping us. Jake was the one who took my blood a few days ago, and who was currently driving the boat. Nyall was the one who just pulled me from the water and who would disembark with us.

  Jake would then return the boat to Rhode Island and would be picked up by Nyall to return back to England I presumed, based on their accents, after I was dropped off at the airport and safely through security.

  We navigated our way into Marion harbor. The guys had a dry set of clothing for me to change into, so I wasn’t getting off the boat in a bright orange float suit. I put on a hat, a puffy jacket and a fake beard. Breton did the same, in case there were security cameras these guys didn’t know about, such as a rogue go-pro or a dash camera.

  I slid into the back seat of a rental car the guys had and was driven to a motel, where all my things that I would be taking with me awaited. I showered, thankful I had thought ahead and purchased some travel-size toiletries for this sole purpose. I hated the cheap stuff in hotels, even the nice hotels. And this motel was far from nice. At least I got to shower and dry my hair before I embarked on a nearly two-day trip to the other side of the world, in an economy seat no less. The sacrifices I was making.

  I smiled as I washed the conditioner out of my hair. Drew would make fun of me for that thought. I had to hold on to the wall to steady myself. Drew. I didn’t want to leave him, and I didn't want to put my parents through all this.

  But I’d come too far to let my emotions get in the way. There was something much bigger at play here than me and my feelings. I could deal with them, what I couldn’t deal with was blackmail, my father being blacklisted, and my brother’s murderers getting away with it. If anything, this needed to be done to bring justice for Josh—if nothing else.

  After I showered, I dried my hair then put it in a low braid and popped some brown contacts in, knowing I’d come to regret this when I finally got to my next hotel in about two days. I then put on clean dry panties, a sports bra, a long-sleeved t-shirt and yoga pants. On top of that, I put on a long black robe that some Muslim women often wore. I wrapped my hair in a black scarf, and when it was time to go outside, I’d put on a veil over my face and a pair of fake glasses.

  It was nearly three in the morning. I looked through the plain black backpack, which had my new laptop, new iPad and new iPhone, all secure and encrypted. In a Ziploc bag were all the chargers and adapters. I had a journal, a pen, and a case with sunglasses.

  I looked through the small carry-on I would bring with me, the only bag I would take. Aside from the clothing I wore, packed were one pair of jeans, a tank top, a pair of Bermuda shorts, a t-shirt, a pair of mesh shorts, Birkenstock sandals, a cardigan, a night dress, one beige bra, 5 undies and 3 pairs of socks. There was a small bag with a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, face cream, a travel-size contact lens solution and a case for them, a small bottle of shampoo, conditioner, body lotion and face wipes. Everything else, I would have to buy.

  Breton and I had spent the better half of the summer, researching exactly what all the documents I had found were, and what exactly Matt was up to. We traced paper trail upon paper trail, email upon email, to transactions, contracts, and business deals.

  Matt wasn’t working alone, he had partners; his two siblings, one being Julia. Now Breton and I were planning to take their brother down. When we had come up with the idea of framing Matt to buy us more time, and me staging my disappearance, it wasn’t done with a light heart. We knew we were breaking laws and my parents’ hearts. But sometimes you needed to be bad for the greater good.

  We had uncovered so many con jobs that they were doing, many with serious safety concerns. One con had them partnering with a top executive of a steel company and manufacturer. They were a supplier for everything from automotive, to buildings, to roads. They were importing lower-grade steel from South American countries, selling it as American, at American prices. The only thing was, it wasn’t American standard. They knew that under pressure, these materials would not hold up, yet they were involved in it.

  I was appalled. Matt was brokering the deals with the South American companies and laundering the money into numbered accounts through so many shell companies, and real companies, such as his sister’s salon.

  Breton was resourceful, and after a lot of digging, we had solid leads to do even more investigations. This past weekend, while Matt and I were sailing, Breton got into the condo and collected all the documents I only had pictures of up until this point.

  ‘Thanks for getting all this,’ I said to Nyall, as I sat on the bed, pulled on a pair of black socks and new Nike sneakers. The guys Breton hired from England got most of the things for me. My bras and underwear I’d purchased with cash I had randomly withdrawn over the course of the past two months

  I wasn’t looking forward to the next couple hours. I threw my bag over my shoulder and Breton rolled my suitcase out to the van. Nyall was already in the driver's seat, and Breton sat in the back with me.

  I didn’t know the next time I’d see him. We rode in silence, though not because we needed to hide things from Nyall; apparently, he did covert missions all the time, this was child's play and a favor owed.

  My cousin really was good at what he did.

  We drove to the Cape, where Breton’s car was parked at a dark beach parking lot in East Sandwich. He had left his cell there, and if asked, he’d met a girl and took her there to hook up with; he didn’t know her name, picked her up at a bar, and dropped her back there.

  Nyall pulled up next to Breton’s car. I got out first, as I heard Breton thanking Nyall, and that he’d be in contact soon.

  He followed me out a moment later, knowing there were no cameras around.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered, knowing if I spoke any louder, my voice would crack.

  ‘Jessa, you can’t cry,’ he warned, his own voice cracking. ‘You can’t show up to the airport with red eyes, I can’t have you looking suspicious in any way. We’ve done too much work.’

  I nodded, ‘I know.’

  He took me in his arms. ‘I love you, and I’m going to do this as quick as I can. We’re going to get justice for Josh and keep you, your parents and the company safe.’ He pulled away and looked at me. ‘No one gets hurt.’

  I nodded again, ‘Broken hearts will mend.’

  He hugged me again and kissed the top off my head. ‘I’m going to miss you, but message me as soon as you’re in your hotel.’

  ‘I will,’ I sniffled and laughed when I looked at him, wiping his eyes. ‘Come on, you’re killing me.’ I pushed him away.

  ‘Nope, not me. That’s what we’re framing Matt for.’

  I smiled and opened the van’s door, sitting in the back seat again. ‘I love you,’ I said to Breton.

  ‘I love y
ou too. Now go, I’ve got this.’ He looked pained as I closed the door. I watched him stand next to his car as he watched us drive away. I kept looking until I couldn’t see him anymore.

  I let out a sob and covered my mouth. I couldn't cry, I needed to be strong. I had to hold my shit together for the next 28 hours. Once I was safely in my hotel room in Sydney, Australia, I could cry as much as I wanted to.

  Nyall dropped me off at the international terminal at Boston’s Logan Airport just before five in the morning, over two hours before my flight. I pulled my veil down, put my fake, non-prescription glasses on and tossed my backpack over my shoulder.

  ‘Thanks so much for everything,’ I said to Nyall.

  ‘Don’t mention it, it’s been our pleasure to help you and Breton out.’ He turned around in his seat. ‘Be safe and let us know if you need anything.’

  I nodded, opening the side door, grabbing my carry-on suitcase on the seat next to me.

  ‘Thanks again,’ I said, in my best fake accident I could do. I was traveling on a British passport, and while my accident was shit, I hoped I would only have to speak a limited number of times, and that one to two-word answers would suffice.

  I closed the van door and walked into the airport, rolling my suitcase behind me.

  I checked in at the kiosk, scanned my fake passport, which must have passed as the machine printed out my boarding pass.

  Through security, I placed my bags on the x-ray machine, and was asked to take off my sneakers and submit to a full body scan, which I had no objection to.

  I was through security, and the only time I needed to speak to anyone was when I ordered my grande caramel macchiato at Starbucks. I hadn’t really thought it through, as I had the veil on. I went back, got a straw, and drank it that way. I knew by the time I arrived in Sydney, I would have a greater appreciation of Muslim women who chose not only to wear the headscarf, but the full-face veil. And equal hatred of any man who forced it.

  My first flight was from Boston to San Francisco, where I slept the full six hours. I had a window seat and a girl about my age sat next to me. But I was so exhausted, that I fell asleep before the safety demonstration was finished.

  I was groggy getting off the flight, found a Starbucks and ordered another coffee. I had three hours to wait around until my flight to Sydney.

  It was after two in the afternoon back home, and clearly, I would have been found missing by now, as we were due to dock back in Boston any time.

  Did my family know yet? What was Matt saying and doing? I smiled under my veil; it was evil, but I hoped he was sweating and pissing himself from fear.

  I walked around, browsed some shops, purchased some magazines, some candy and a bottle of water. After making my way to my gate, I sat around, ate candy and flipped through the magazines. I got strange stares, and people kept their distance from me. It was an awful feeling, but one I welcomed given the circumstances.

  Through my new phone and tablet, I browsed news sites, but by the time they announced my flight was boarding, nothing had made the mainstream news in Boston.

  Breton had booked me a widow seat, and the middle seat also, so I wouldn't be squished next to someone for over twenty hours. I was lucky that an elderly lady sat in the aisle seat, and didn’t wish to talk to me

  Once in the air, I read the three magazines, watched a movie as I ate dinner, then let exhaustion take over and fell asleep.

  I arrived in Sydney in the early hours of Wednesday morning. I got a cab straight to the hotel I was staying at for the next few days while I rested, regrouped and purchased things I’d need before heading north to my wellness retreat for the next few months, or until I’d had enough.

  It was a 16-hour time difference between here and home. When I woke up just past two in the afternoon, it was 10pm the previous night in Boston. It was the first time I had a chance to check the news from back home. I was news, top story, headline news. I wasn’t declared dead, but I was missing, and it wasn’t looking good. My distraught parents went on TV with a plea for any news related to me.

  There was a quarter-million-dollar reward for any news. That wasn’t enough information, so I logged into the Gmail account that Breton and I had created just for the two of us to use.

  I had a few update emails from him.

  Hey,

  Just an update, the cabin crew have been interviewed by police, but nothing is being reported by them at this time. The father has been in contact with detectives and when I hear anything I’ll pass it on.

  Your friend, Me

  The next one was the one I was waiting on, that had come in only a few hours ago.

  Hey,

  Another update that I thought you would want to know ASAP. The father was just informed by the detective that the fiancée has been arrested as there was significant forensic evidence taken from the boat and they were satisfied with the testimony from the crew, friends and family.

  Your friend, Me

  I was so happy that I found myself grinning like the Cheshire Cat and felt tears of joy rolling down my cheek. Jail wouldn’t be kind to him. This made me smile even bigger. Now he would know what it was like to be caged without cause, just like he’d been doing to me.

  I hadn’t messaged Breton yet and didn’t want him to worry.

  Hey You,

  Thanks so much for the updates. I have arrived safely, thanks for everything, you have been the best. Will email soon.

  Your friend,

  Sarah Khan

  I spent the first week in Sydney, where it took me a few days to adjust to the time change, recover from the two-day journey to the other side of the world, and manage all the emotions that were running through me. I was staying in an average hotel so as to not draw too much attention to myself. I was also playing it very safe. Ensuring I was only going to “good” parts of the city, and only during the day. It was the first time that I had ever travelled by myself. My recent trip to Spain was the only time I’d gone anywhere without my family; being with Zoe was close enough.

  I really missed her, she had been on my mind as much as Drew and my family.

  Leaving the hotel was the very last thing I wanted to do, as I was still suffering gravely from the jet lag, but I pushed through it and set out to get some fresh air and explore Sydney a bit. I’d been a lot of places in my life, but we had never traveled to Australia or New Zealand. I’d like to get over to New Zealand before I left this area of the world.

  I put on shorts, a t-shirt, and a hat, forgoing the disguise and I dragged myself to Bondi beach, where I sat and watched people for hours appreciating the eye candy, thinking of how much Zoe would have enjoyed the sights. Couples walking, friends chatting, guys tossing a rugby ball, girls tanning and kids playing. They all seemed so carefree and happy. The exact opposite of how I felt.

  I had lunch at a pub, listening in on strangers’ conversations, realizing that it had been days since I’d had a proper conversation with anyone other than giving a cab driver my destination. It was nearly dusk by the time I got back to my hotel and cried myself to sleep again.

  The next day, I went shopping at a mall where I finished stocking up on gym wares and other things I would need over the next few months for my in-residence boot camp I was about to check into for at least the next four months. It was about three hours north of Sydney, basically in the middle of nowhere, but on the ocean, so at least I’d have the familiar sound of the water.

  All the items that I had purchased over the past few days were packed in the new suitcase I’d also had to purchase, and were waiting to go.

  The phone seemed to ring before my eyes even closed. The TV was still on, and I didn't feel as if I slept at all. I was catching an early bus up the coast to a small town a few hours north, near the retreat, and then taking a cab the rest of the way.

  ‘This is your wake-up call as requested, Ms. Khan.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I told the lady on the other end, and hung up.

  I looked at the ceiling
of my hotel. This was the first day of my journey. I was checking into a wellness retreat. It not only focused on weight loss, but it stressed mental awareness, focus and purpose. I was going to be doing both, however, I’d have to really go over my backstory a bit more so I didn’t give anything about my true identity away.

  I called down to room service and ordered granola with fruit and yogurt, then dragged myself to the shower, which did wake me slightly. I dried my hair that I had colored back to my natural light brown and had cut two days ago at a walk-in salon at a mall I had been shopping at.

  ~

  There were people at the retreat who stayed for a few days to a few weeks. I had been told, few had ever booked in for four months. But I really didn’t have anywhere else to go, nothing else to do, so why not challenge myself to be the person I’d always want to be physically. With any luck, the solace and self-reflection would help me figure out who I was, who I wanted to be, and what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

  The first two months were hardest for me. While I knew my journey was going to be hard physically, I wasn’t prepared for how hard it was emotionally.

  I’d learned that detoxing sugar was stressful, and it was just as important to speak with a counsellor about emotional shit as it was to train your muscles physically. It was just that I couldn’t really speak with anyone about it. I was too scared someone might put two and two together. However, to be fair, my disappearance wasn’t even on the radar here, and in all likelihood, I had nothing to worry about. In light of not wanting to speak with counsellors at the moment, I read self-help books covering lots of topics.

  Before even arriving at the retreat, the news at home reported that the mission was now being considered a recovery effort, that sufficient evidence had been found to rule it a homicide, and that Matt had been arrested. I was pleased with myself that all the evidence I planted passed as legitimate.