Page 68 of The Business Trip

I wasn’t going to answer that, so I ignored it as well. But that night I thought I should just treat Lucy like I had her other coworker, Bruce, and act like the boss I was. These people had to listen to me, right?

I am very busy this week, I asked you to reschedule the meeting. I should be back next week

God, these people.Leave me the fuck alone.I could stay longer somewhere if I wanted to. That’s what bosses do, what they have earned.

That night, Raven came to my motel room with the passport. Her digital guy had changed my hair, and it was almost a perfect match to what I had done myself. The passport looked real to me. She promised it would get me through a Mexican checkpoint.

“The best place to cross is anywhere you can walk,” she counseled, sitting on the edge of my motel bed. “They get a lot more suspicious of cars. San Diego is good. You can take a light-rail right to the border and walk directly through to Tijuana. I’ve done it. There’s usually only one Mexican guard, and they barely look at your passport. Trust me, they’re happy to have people come into their country. Not like the US side, where they have a ton of checkpoints, drug-sniffing dogs, metal detectors, special flashlights and microscopes to make sure passports are real, the whole nine yards. Don’t come back to the US, Jasmine. It’s too dangerous.”

“I won’t,” I promised. And I meant it. Opening the passport again, I was surprised to see the name: Erica Birchfield.

“Why Erica?” I asked.

“My guy does it like hurricanes. You were the fifth fake he’s made this year, so you get anEname. As for last names, he has a software program that picks a random one.”

“Got it,” I said, handing her $3,000 of my hard-earned cash.

“Well,” she sighed, “I don’t suspect we’ll see each other again for a bit. You shouldn’t contact me or vice versa. But know that I’m with you. Do you remember that town from high school Spanish class? Maybe check it out. I’ll even try to make it down there one day myself.”

“Puerto Escondido!” I cried out with glee at the shared memory. “I remember it. I think I might try it. I mean, why not? It’s as good as any place. I’ll look for you. Thanks, Raven. You had my back on this and… on other stuff… You know what I mean, that one thing… the Halloween party… what I told you by the baseball field… I want you to know I appreciate it.”

“Yeah…” She paused. “You know I never told anyone else about that, not even Anna. It’s the truth, right? You weren’t just pulling my leg?”

My chest and throat tightened, and I looked down. There was no need to lie to Raven. She was my friend. Plus, I was leaving the country.

“It’s the truth,” I said sadly. “You’re the only one who knows. I’ve thought about it for twenty-seven years. I didn’t mean to do it, I swear. It just happened. I kind of snapped.”

“The bitch deserved it,” she said. “I only wish I had gone to the party and helped you out. You know what was weird? A few years ago, I ran into Drake’s brother at a bar when I was in Madison. He asked me if I knew anything about that party. Said his brother was innocent. Apparently, the family is still trying to figure it out all these decades later. I told him I didn’t know a thing. Not that I would tell a Maple Hills person a damn word anyway. Bunch of silver spoon a-holes. Don’t worry, Jazz, your secret is safe with me.”

We hugged, and tears unexpectedly popped to my eyes. Female friendship felt so good, and now I was leaving it, going to a country where I had never been before. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I should cancel this whole part of the plan, ask to stay with Raven in Atlanta and get to know her world, but I knew I needed an entirely fresh start. Although I had blocked Glenn from contacting me, the thought of him putting out anall-out search party or grabbing that hunting rifle on the wall still brought fear into my cells.

Mexico was my true freedom. Would I go all the way back to San Diego and actually cross there? Oh, the irony of it, returning to the scene of the crime to finish my escape. Maybe I would, maybe not. Maybe Texas would be better. It was closer to Atlanta.

First things first. I was going to keep sowing some seeds with Robert that things with Trent were getting bad. Then I would turn up the heat enough that Robert would call the police. I also needed to bury Steph’s wallet and phone and my wallet in Trent’s backyard one night, to make it look as if he had done so himself. Now that I was Erica, I didn’t need my own wallet anymore. My phone I would dispose of somewhere nearby, but not in Trent’s backyard. It had too many incriminating texts to Raven and too many things I had googled, like rigor mortis. I decided I would smash it somehow and put the pieces in a dumpster. I could get a burner phone, I was sure. The wallets and phones from me and from Steph needed to end here in Atlanta so that the police tracing them would see that their last ping was Trent’s place, or near it.

I was entering the final phase of my escape plan, and everything was continuing to go well. The money withdrawn from Steph’s accounts I figured the police would think was Trent convincing her to take money out and then pocketing it. More evidence, a motive for him to kill her. A divorced guy being pressed for child support by his ex. It all made sense. To add to the ruse, I went back to an ATM that night near Trent’s place and withdrew $2,000 more from Steph’s debit card. That covered some of my expenses with Raven and made it look as if Steph was taking out more money during her time with Trent.

I also planned to stop at a gardening store and buy a trowel. I would tell the person at the register that I just couldn’t wait for gardening season.

Tuesday, I woke up very early ready to drop a few more texts on Robert—just more hints that Trent was becoming controlling and I was growing scared of him. I started with this:

I’m typing this while Trent is sleeping. I think I might come home earlier than expected. Remember how I said he was bossy? Well he actually yelled at me last night. It scared me. His anger came out of nowhere. He doesn’t like it when I contact people from home. I’ll call you when I can

Oh my god, are you OK? What’s happening? Do you need help?

I waited, giving him time for a little bit of worry to escalate. His next two were filled with panic:

Steph, please answer

Followed a short time later with:

If you don’t text me back soon, I’m calling 911

I couldn’t let that happen juuust yet. Soon, but not yet. I texted back:

I’m OK. It’s OK for now, he seems to have settled down this morning. I’m going to book a flight though. I’ll be in touch

Come home now!!

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