Page 25 of Slow Burn (The Boston Beauties)

When I was sure the drugs had truly taken effect on Matt, it was time to go to work. I had been coached and had been practicing over the past few weeks to do exactly what was needed, to stage a set-up so expertly that no suspicions would be raised, or a motive questioned. The time was here, and while I was scared and nervous, knowing that I was setting him up to pay in hard time helped me push past my fears.

From my purse, I pulled out what appeared to be a toiletry bag, then opened the storage closet where extra pillows and blankets had been stored, hiding the duffel bag that had been placed there earlier in the week. Inside was my float suit that I would need very shortly.

I took out a pair of medical gloves from the toiletry bag and put them on as I walked up to the kitchen, taking the bottle of bleach and some towels from under the kitchen sink. Back in the master cabin, I made sure that Matt was well and truly out cold before I moved on to putting the next part of the plan into place. I took out the vial of my blood I’d had housed for safe keeping in the toiletry bag, that the partners Breton had contracted to help us this weekend had drawn right before I met with Matt yesterday morning.

I dipped a straw into the vial of blood as I had practiced and walked back into the bedroom. I blew it slightly towards the ceiling, where small little drops of blood splattered on the ceiling; practice really did make perfect. I did the same on the floor, letting the blood dry, as I went back into the bathroom and dipped the straw back in the blood and put some on the stairs going up into the main room.

As that dried, I took a safety pin, and added drops of my blood into crevices of Matt watch. I then took off my engagement ring, put little drops of blood on it. I took one of his dirty socks from his laundry bag and shoved the ring inside, and then put the sock in a side pocket of his messenger bag, but not before I had him touch the ring, placing his fingerprint on the stone. I would let the detectives think he robbed me of my jewelry before he dumped me—literally. Not that the ring would fetch all that much, it still didn’t make him look good, and that was my point, selling the motive he killed me in a jealous rage. I needed to give the police as much ammunition to believe he had killed me, to arrest Matt and buy Breton and I more time.

I put some blood on Matt’s fingers, rubbed the bottle of bleach with his fingers, smearing my blood on the bottle before running it under water knowing trace amounts of my DNA would be found. When the bottle was dry, I put it back in Matt’s hands, so his fingerprints were all over it before placing it under the sink in the master bathroom. I then wiped up the blood on the floor and the stairs with a minimum amount of bleach on the towel. I smeared trace amounts on the back of the boat and didn’t bleach it, to make it look that I was pushed off from there. I took the straw once more and blew it over the black shirt Matt was currently wearing. He wouldn’t see it, but if forensics looked, they most certainly would.

I took out the satellite phone I had been given and sent a message to the one Breton had on the other end.

JESSA:Are you close?

BRETON:We’re about 25 nautical miles from you

I knew once it was time for me to get in the water, I’d be waiting about five to ten minutes for them to pick me up. My tracking device would be broadcasting directly to them my exact location. I drained the small amount of blood that was left down the sink, and wiped the counter with the towel, wringing it out and putting it with the bottle of bleach under the counter in Matt’s bathroom. I took the empty vial and straw and placed it in a Ziploc bag in the pocket of my jeans. I made sure my phone was charging in the room I had been using, and my tablet was still upstairs in the main room.

I was taking nothing with me. Just like when I left the house yesterday morning; I took only heartbreak and the clothes that were in my carry-on bag.

On Friday night—just two nights ago, but it felt so much longer already—I went to Drew’s room and all but asked him to wait for me. If he still wanted me when this was all said and done, I’d gladly still have him. I knew my feelings for him would never waver. But he could hate me for what I was about to put him and my parents through when I was reported missing. It was hard to leave him sleeping early Saturday morning, he looked so at peace. It was the last image I wanted of him, as I didn’t know when I'd see him again. I knew if he woke up, there was a small chance I could let him talk me out of going through with the plan. Breton and I had come too far, invested too much for me to spoil it now.

If Drew and I were meant to be, we could weather the storm I was about to rain down on him and my family.

Breton and I had gone over it time and again. It was the only way to make it look real. My parents, they weren’t good actors and were too nice for their own good, even strangers might have been able to read them like a book. They needed to think that I really was missing, that Matt had killed me. Also, I didn't think they would want me to go away, alone and unprotected. I needed the clean break, not only to buy us more time to investigate and gather evidence to take Matt’s family down, but time to find myself. If anything, I hoped they would in time understand this.

With any luck, Matt would be arrested, and due to the publicity in an election year, his trial would be pushed up. With no money, he’d get a public defender and hopefully I did a good enough job with the planted evidence to convict the bastard.

As much as I wanted to trust in Drew’s love for me, I wasn’t sure how far I could trust him. Leaving him sleeping was absolute torture. I sat there, watching him for too long, taking in the sight of him, the sound of his sleeping breaths. Before I left, I placed my hand over his heart, feeling it beat under my palm. Knowing how I was going to break it by going with Matt, and knowing how much pain I could potentially inflict on him in the coming months, if not years, caused me emotional pain as I’d never experienced before.

“The next time you see me, I’ll be free of him and we can finally be together, as I wish we could have been all along.”

I had meant it. He just didn’t know at the time he’d have to wait to see me.

The captain was still sailing the boat, he wasn’t going fast, and wasn’t able to see the back of the boat from the bridge. I confirmed that earlier yesterday. After a long day, it was highly unlikely for either Sonja or the chef to be out back either. They had told us good night before they took off earlier.

I put on a small life vest that had been put in the duffle bag for me and attached the tracking device to it via a clip. It was waterproof and would continue to broadcast my location to Breton’s device.

I put on the float suit over my clothing and life jacket. It would help keep me afloat and protect me from the water temperatures. Even though it was August, the open Atlantic Ocean water was still too cold to spend prolonged time in.

I messaged Breton one final time.

JESSA:About to jump in, hurry the fuck up.

I was terrified of sharks, and with the blood I had been handling, I feared ending up as a midnight snack as I lowered myself to lie flat on the deck that extended into the water. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I pivoted my body slowly to minimize any noise, so that my legs were now straight out behind me, as to not go under the boat. I’d been told the propellers were too far away, but it was still a fear nonetheless.

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.

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