Page 75 of Slow Burn (The Boston Beauties)

I was setting up my laptop in the kitchen when I heard the doorbell ring; Abby was finally here.

My father walked by the kitchen, nodding at me and Drew as my mother was making a fresh pot of coffee for us all.

‘I am well, thanks, just taking it easy,’ I heard my father say from the entranceway as the front door closed.

‘Showtime,’ Drew whispered to me making jazz hands to lighten the tension in the kitchen. It took everything in me not to laugh.

I could hear Abby and my father walking towards the kitchen. ‘So what is it that you need from me today?’ Abby asked, getting straight to business. I was there when my father called her yesterday, asking her to come out to the Cape.

‘Please, let's talk in the kitchen,’ my father said walking in.

I was wearing a new pair of skinny jeans I’d recently ordered and a new tight-fitting sweater. When Abby first walked in, I could tell she didn’t recognize me. She took inventory of the room, hugged my mother and Drew and extended her hand to me as she stepped closer. When her eyes settled on me, I could see it all register on her face.

‘Jessa?’ she asked in complete and utter shock, looking me up and down. ‘Jessa,’ she said again in fear. Then a tear escaped her eye, ‘Jessa,’ she cried in joy.

‘Hi, Abs,’ I greeted her, stepping forward to embrace her in a long tight hug. She squeezed me back just as much, likely to make sure I wasn't a hallucination.

‘Are you really...?’ she asked. ‘I mean, I thought…’ she looked around. ‘How long have you known?’ she asked my parents.

‘A while,’ my father said sitting down, still feeling the effects of the heart attack nearly two weeks ago. Standing for any amount of time was still a struggle for him, but he got up as much as he could without overdoing it.

I could see on Abby’s face it was all registering. Breton was already on FaceTime on my computer with us as we all took a seat at the table. Abby got out her notebook and pen.

‘Ok, where do we start?’ she asked me.

I looked to Breton on the laptop, which Abby was only now realizing was on. ‘From the fireplace,’ Breton instructed.

I told Abby everything, about the passports, the cons, the stolen money, my brother’s death. I knew by the end of it, she was fully on board.

‘So what now?’ my father asked Abby.

She paused, ‘Well, Jessa’s going to have to turn herself in, a man is in jail for her murder…’

‘That asshole stood by while his sister killed Josh,’ Breton shouted from the laptop.

‘I know,’ Abby raised her hand. ‘But in the eyes of the law, tax payers’ dollars were used in the investigation, and a trial for Jessa’s alleged murder, not Josh’s.’

‘I have money to repay the search and rescue and any judicial fees if requested,’ I muttered.

‘Breton, if you can send me all the files you have so I can start reviewing and helping you with a plan for when Jessa turns herself in and how best to present the information to the DA. We’re pretty close, so we’ve got that on our side. With all the work you have done, let’s hope he will see this as a win, and not look for retaliation,’ Abby informed us.

‘You let him know if he decides to retaliate, then he can kiss his re-election goodbye,’ my father threatened. It was no secret that while my father wasn’t a political figure, he had a lot of pull with local politics and his social circle even more so.

‘Will she go to jail?’ my mother asked, worry evident on her face and in her voice.

‘Not if I can help it,’ Abby reached out towards her, squeezing her hand. ‘But you should be prepared, there will likely be charges of some kind. We can use the threat of Matt, that you felt threatened, that you were protecting yourself and your family.’

‘I was,’ I confirmed. ‘That’s not a lie, that is one hundred percent the truth.

‘I know, we’re going to pin his ass and his accomplices.’

‘Can we meet for dinner sometime?’ I asked her.

‘Yeah, that would be nice, it would be good to catch up,’ Abby said looking at me with hopeful eyes of a friend and loving cousin, not as my lawyer.

‘Excellent,’ Abby said, looking at her watch, it was already two thirty. ‘Sorry, I really do want to stay, but it’s our work Christmas thing, and I’m expected there.”

‘No worries, sweetheart,’ my mother said touching her arm, leading her out of the kitchen as we all followed. ‘I think we’ve covered all we can today.’

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