Requiem for a Love (Requiem #2) [ON HOLD]

Chapter 13: Ryan

I can't look. I can't. The image of Ryan lying dead on the cabin floor is already burned into my memory. I don't need a picture of him lying dead in a morgue added to that. But something makes me look anyway - that same urge to peek during scary movies or scenes when Mamá shouted "don't look!" and covered my face with her hand.

And then I can't look away. The man in the picture is very dead. His skin is unnaturally pale and his lips are blue. His eyes are open, which is mildly horrifying, but I can't help the feeling of relief that wells up inside me. The cold, dead, staring eyes are brown. The nearly white skin is unmarked by fire and war. His hair and beard are sandy blond. It's not Ryan. I choke back a laugh.

Ben pulls the picture away and tucks it back into the folder, looking concerned. He probably thinks I've cracked.

"No, it's not him," I explain.

"What?"

"I don't know who that is. It's not Ryan."

Ben looks confused. "But all the information matches up. The timeline, the property, the lifestyle, even the cause of death. You're certain this isn't Ryan Simmons?"

I shrug. "I don't know, it could be. I've never met this man and I've never met anyone named Ryan Simmons."

Ben leans all the way back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. Givens looks annoyed.

"You said this was going to be helpful, Ramirez. Next time, verify your leads before wasting our time."

Givens stands and walks out of the room, closing the door none too quietly behind him.

My momentary joy begins to fade. Just because the dead man in that picture was Ryan Simmons and not Ryan Burke, nothing has changed. My Ryan is still dead. I don't know how I didn't realize it sooner. Ryan told me he was legally declared dead. None of his firearms would be registered in his name. Even though Ryan lived like he'd never existed, one quick google search would easily prove otherwise. I should have known immediately that it wasn't him.

My Ryan is still lying dead in that cabin. A case of mistaken identity isn't bringing him back to life.

"Are you sure this isn't the Ryan you stayed with?" Ben asks again, clearly still unable to accept that his hunch was wrong. "He could have given a fake name."

I laugh, but there's no real humor in it. "I'm positive. Besides, my Ryan doesn't have a blond buzz cut. His hair is darker and longer. And he doesn't have facial hair."

Ben hasn't moved. He's still staring blankly at the stack of papers inside the folder. "I don't understand," he says. "This is the only Ryan in all of Alaska who matches the timeframe, the location, and the cause of death. This has to be him."

I contemplate this in silence for a moment. Ben's assuming that someone went to the cabin, found Ryan, and reported him dead. He still doesn't understand how hidden away from the world we were up there.

"Do you know why no one found me for so long?"

I wait until Ben looks up at me, an expression of defeat on his face.

"Because no one knew where we were. Until I left for help, there were probably less than five people on earth who knew about that cabin. No one knows to go looking for him. His brother probably doesn't care enough to notice that he hasn't called. The helicopter pilot who brought supplies never stayed to meet us. There was the doctor I brought, but he didn't have any reason to come back. I doubt anyone has set foot in that cabin since the day I left."

"If that's true, don't you understand what that could mean? The crime scene left undisturbed- from what little you've told me, I know the fight that day was messy. There's got to be physical evidence everywhere. If you would just tell me where that cabin is, we could process the crime scene and maybe this time we can find something that will stick. DNA evidence proving they were there. Something that inarguably ties them to that scene. You could see the people who killed Ryan go to jail for what they did. Like Xavier Juarez."

My blood runs cold.

Xavier!

Wait, what about Ryan?

Kill him.

No!

"How do you know he was there?" I ask. That's not the only glaring question here. "And how did you know Ryan's name?"

"Xavier was a guess. I saw how you reacted to seeing him in the lineup. And about Ryan," he pauses. "You know you have nightmares, right?"

"Yes." I wait, but then it dawns on me. Almost in a whisper, I ask, "Do I talk in my sleep?"

"You were apologizing to him. Multiple times. I remembered how you reacted when I suggested that they followed you back from Fairbanks and I thought-" he stops there and doesn't finish.

Great. My subconscious also thinks I'm to blame for Ryan's death. I guess my therapist and I are going to have a lot to talk about next week.

"Just because he was such a private person doesn't mean you'd be betraying him by telling me where to find the cabin. He's gone, Ana. We have a duty to inform his family about his death. We have a duty to find the people who took his life from him and prosecute them to the full extent of the law. And Ana, what if the evidence at that cabin could help us take down the Alvarez syndicate and get justice for your family?"

I hate the fact that I'm starting to agree with him. I was going to keep Ryan's existence a secret for the rest of my life if he wanted me to. I promised him that I'd never tell anyone about him. Didn't I? Then why am I so tempted to give up his refuge from the world?

"We can keep his name out of the investigation if you prefer. No one else has to know about his identity. We'll process the crime scene in the cabin and leave him as a John Doe. No one has to know anything more than is absolutely necessary."

It's like Ben is reading my thoughts. It might actually work. The cabin wouldn't be in his name. Nothing there would have his name on it. Only the locked drawer contained anything connecting him to his past. I don't even have to tell Ben about Ryan's real name, his near-celebrity status, his family... nothing. They really need this from me, which gives me all the power I need to make sure they leave Ryan alone.

Can I really do this? Can I really give up Ryan's sanctuary? I know he's not around to care anymore. If the worst happened and his face ended up splashed across tabloids with the tagline "Supposedly dead Burke son FOUND in remote cabin! See pictures inside" or "My dead brother was living in hiding all this time - read the full story from Joe Burke" or "Dead fiancé HIDING FOR YEARS - see what Sapphire Sheridan has to say" - I think another piece of my soul would die. But Ryan's gone. He wouldn't have to suffer through it. As loathe as I am to risk that nightmare, if I can get justice for him, my family, and prevent these people from hurting anyone else again - is it worth it? I wish Ryan were here and I could ask him what to do. I don't believe in ghosts, but right now I really wish they were real.

But I have to make this decision. For myself. For Ryan. And I have to hope that I won't spend the rest of my life regretting it.

"Ok," I say at last, startling Ben after my long silence. "I'll tell you where to find the cabin, but I have conditions. And Agent Givens has to agree. And I want it in writing. And I want to talk to a lawyer."