Requiem (26 page)

Ryan grabbed each side of my face, and
kissed me. Not just any kiss; his tongue was inside my mouth, and
he kissed me so passionately, it was beyond obscene in front of
everyone I worked with, not to mention my fiancé.

Before the embarrassment soaked in, Ryan was
thrown across the room, and slid on his side along the dance floor,
stopping just before he crashed into the DJ station.

The music abruptly cut off, clearing the air
for the screams and audible panic.

“
Jared, stop!” I shouted,
watching him charge.

I ran across the wooden floor, hoping to
stop any bloodshed, but before I reached Ryan, Claire appeared in
front of him, in a protective stance, facing her brother.

Jared stood motionless, breathing heavily
from the angry adrenaline running through his veins. “He did it…on
purpose,” Jared huffed.

“
And you played right into
his plan,” Claire said, livid. She turned to Ryan. “Kissing my
sister? That’s how you planned to get my attention?” she said,
pulling him up by his tie.

Ryan choked a bit before loosening up the
knot around his neck, and then smiled. “I did what I had to,” he
said to Claire, and then looked to Jared, “I’m sorry.”

“
I don’t care what you’re
reasons are, don’t ever touch Nina like that again. I can’t kill
you, but I’ll make you wish you were dead.” Jared grabbed my hand,
and then led me from the party, down two flights of stairs, and out
to the parking lot.

When we reached the Escalade, I covered my
mouth with one hand. Jared was still angry, but when he looked at
me, I couldn’t help but smile.

“
He so got you,” I said,
trying not to laugh out loud.

Jared smiled. “He did, didn’t he?”

We both laughed aloud, uncontrollably, more
than we had ever done before. By the time we were finished, I was
breathless, and the muscles in my stomach were sore and tight.

We drove home, hand in hand, smiling at one
another at each stoplight. Ryan finally getting face time with
Claire should have been a disaster, but a sense of relief
surrounded us, as if our group was finally complete. I had no idea
what Claire would tell Ryan—how much truth she would really
share—but Ryan being Claire’s Taleh, and the fact that he was now
in love with her, was proof that we were supposed to be in each
others lives. Jared’s prediction was wide of the mark, but he had
never looked so happy to be wrong since we’d met.

The next day, I awoke to large flakes of
snow falling gracefully from the sky. Each fluffy white piece
drifted downward as if it were orchestrating its own symphony.
Looking out the window, the ground was already covered in at least
two feet of snow, and the gray clouds above didn’t foretell
anything but more of the same.

“
It’s been like that since
four A.M.,” Bex said from the hallway.

I tightened my robe around me, and opened
the door.

Bex stood before me, bored and holding a
half-eaten apple. He took another bite, crunching loudly. “He’s
bringing coffee.”

“
Good,” I said, leaving him
to head for the bathroom.

Steam from the shower quickly surrounded me,
but before I rinsed the shampoo from my hair, I heard the door
open.

“
Jared?”

“
It’s me,” Claire said,
shutting the door behind her.

I peered through the fuzzy glass, barely
able to make out her tiny frame. “What are you doing here?”

“
I’ve been up all night
with Ryan. We talked a lot. We fought more.”

“
Oh? About
what?”

“
About what he saw in the
desert, and if I was there or not. He knows the men that stabbed
him last year were cops. He knows a lot more than we thought.
Finally…,” she sighed, “finally I just told him.”

“
Everything? You confessed
about the other cops, and the commissioner? About Anderson, and…and
about what you are?”

“
Not yet.”

“
How did you explain
without telling him everything?”

“
I promised I would explain
later.” She frowned. “It doesn’t feel right to tell him, Nina. We
were raised on the belief that this secret kept our family
safe.”

“
Then don’t tell him until
it feels right.”

“
What if it never feels
right?”

“
I don’t know,” I said,
turning off the water. A towel flew up and over the shower door,
landing on my head. “Thanks.”

“
Don’t mention it,” Claire
said, shutting the door behind her.

By the time I was dressed and ready, Claire,
Jared and Bex were downstairs in the kitchen, discussing Ryan. Just
by entering the room, it was obvious it was not a constructive
conversation.

“
You’re such a hypocrite!”
Claire growled.

Jared slammed the side of his fist on the
table. “Are you in love with him?”

“
No!”

“
Then it’s a different
scenario!” Jared glanced in my direction, and then took a breath,
attempting a calmer tone. “You said it yourself. It doesn’t feel
right to tell him.”

I sat down, scanning the siblings with my
eyes before speaking. Outwardly, Claire was angry. But her eyes
were begging for understanding. Telling Ryan anything was a huge
step for her, and just as Jared struggled with it two years before,
Claire was now fighting with her conflicting feelings. She needed
her brothers to support her

I took a seat across from Jared, and next to
Claire. The choice was meaningful, and I hoped that they would
notice. “Maybe Claire is looking for your blessing, Jared,” I
said.

“
Or just some
understanding,” she grumbled.

Bex stood up, and walked across the kitchen,
picking up a plate, and then setting in front of me. It was an
omelet, loaded with ham, green onion, mushrooms, and cheese.

“
Thanks,” I
smiled.

Bex nodded, and then
touched his sister's shoulder. “Claire, I love you. But if you’d
take a step back and think about this. Ryan is a cop. He’s
investigating murders
you
committed. What do you think he’s going to do
when you tell him you murdered his partner? You think he's going to
forgive you because he saw your eyes in the desert?”

“
The partner that
orchestrated his kidnapping and ultimate demise,” Claire said.
“Listen,” she sighed, “I know how it looks on paper. I may not be
in love with Ryan, but he says he’s in love with me. If he listens
to what I have to say, and I approach it carefully, I think he
could be an asset.”

“
We can’t take that
chance,” Jared said, finality in his voice.

Claire stood, her palms flat on the table.
“You took the same chance when you told Nina, and she wasn’t even
an asset! Her life has spun out of control since the second you
revealed yourself to her, Jared. At least let me make my own
decision, like you did!”

Jared's nose wrinkled in disgust. “You were
on me for months about Nina, Claire! How quickly you forget the
hours I spent listening to your lectures on doing the right thing.
Keep the secret. Keep the secret! That's been your mantra for
years!”

Tears filled Claire’s eyes
as her face turned red. “Coming from you!” she screamed. “You know
what it’s like to have no one, and you know what it’s like to
finally be free of the burden of what we are; to have someone else
besides your mother, or your brothers to confide in! I have
no one
, Jared! You’ve
lived it, and you still deny me the liberation you insisted
on?”

Jared shifted in his seat, but I could see
in his eyes he would not yield. Claire saw it, too.

“
Go to hell!” she shrieked
before storming out of the house. She slammed the door with such
force that the surrounding painting and pictures on the wall fell
from their nails, and crashed to the floor.

“
You’re making a mistake,”
I said, meeting Jared’s obstinate stare. “Claire, wait!” I yelled,
hoping she would hear it before she sped away. I ran outside,
stopping at the Lotus.

Claire wiped her eyes. “Sorry. I cry when
I’m mad.”

“
I do, too,” I said,
offering an apologetic smile.

“
He asked me to go to
Anderson’s funeral.” Claire focused her eyes straight forward, too
emotional to make eye contact.

“
Are you going?”

“
I couldn’t think of a good
enough reason when he asked, but I shouldn’t. It’s
wrong.”

“
I’ll go with
you.”

Claire’s ice blue eyes darted up in
surprise. “You will?”

“
Yeah,” I said.
“When?”

“
In an hour,” she said,
attempting to mask her hopeful expression.

I looked at my watch. “Okay. Give me a
minute to get dressed.”

Jared frowned as I slipped on a demure black
dress. I sat down on the bed to pull up my black stockings, and he
sat beside me.

“
This is inappropriate on
so many levels,” he said.

“
Kind of like you sitting
next to the reason your father lost his life on the night he died?”
I said, slipping on my heels. Jared helped me with my coat, and
then I poked a pearl earring into each of my ears. I turned,
cupping his jaw with my hands. “Your point is justifiable, but it
is her choice, Jared, just like it was yours. Trust Claire to make
her own decision. She’s never let you down before.”

“
She’s never wanted to tell
before.”

“
Then that’s your answer,”
I said, kissing his soft, warm lips. His mouth lingered on mine,
and then I pulled away, knowing Claire was anxiously
waiting.

I returned to the Lotus alone, slipping into
the passenger seat. Claire pulled on her large, dark sunglasses,
and then shoved the gear into first, soaring down the drive, and
fish-tailing when she hit the street.

Saints Peter and Paul cathedral was
surrounded by dozens of police cruisers, and even more civilian
vehicles. The line at the entrance was already backed up to the
next block by sniffling mourners.

“
We should have come
earlier,” I said.

“
We shouldn’t be here at
all,” Claire said quietly. “Shit.”

A knock on her window prompted Claire to
roll it down, revealing Ryan in his dress blues. “You made it,” he
said with a reserved grin. He opened the door for Claire, and then
jogged around the front of her car, opening the door for me.
“Thanks for coming. It means a lot.”

I simply nodded, walking behind Ryan as he
escorted Claire to the front steps, bypassing the endless line of
weeping friends and family. As we passed them, some recognized Ryan
and shook his hand. Seeing him seemed to upset some of the women,
and even some of the men fought back tears as Ryan traded quiet
words during a short hug. Once they acknowledged Ryan, their
expressions changed to curiosity, evaluating the small young lady
in the black, leather dress with pointed-toe stilettos.

Each person we passed offered a pained
expression for Ryan, and then regarded Claire with bewilderment.
Claire’s dress was long-sleeved, with a respectable crew-neck line.
Her skirt was short, but an inch longer than mid-thigh. Maybe it
was her beauty that struck them, or the black stilettos that shot
up from the ground, turning into a slithering snake with a shiny,
turquoise eye on the stainless steel heel of her shoe.

The ensemble was something only Claire would
dare wear to a funeral, but the look fit her. Ryan didn’t seem to
mind. Before we reached the doorway, Ryan took Claire’s hand in
his, and led her down the aisle. She glanced back at me, unsure of
how to react.

We walked to the front of the sanctuary,
seated behind the family, but on the first row of police officers
that served with Kit Anderson. Ryan sat between Claire and me,
making the situation even more uncomfortable. The pianist worked
the keys, and a solemn song echoed throughout the church. Two rows
ahead, in the center of the pew, two small children sat on each
side of a woman. A man sitting in front of Claire reached forward
to touch her shoulder. She patted his hand, and then squeezed her
young son closer.

My fingers touched my lips. “Oh my God,” I
whispered.

“
Yeah,” Ryan said, leaning
into my ear. “That’s his wife, and his two kids. His little girl is
three. His son is seven.”

I couldn’t hide the horror in my eyes as I
looked to Claire. She was impervious, lowering her chin as a
gesture for me to remain calm. Each second after that moment was an
eternity. The eulogy, the service, the songs. Once the prayer
began, I scrambled from my seat, ignoring those I forced to stand
or slide their legs over while I side-stepped to escape.

The doors pushed open, and the brisk air in
my lungs felt like the first time I’d breathed in over an hour. The
railing was the only thing keeping me erect while I struggled to
catch my breath.

“
Nina, Jesus!” Claire said.
She grabbed my arm, steadying my weak knees. “You just ran—not
walked—
ran
out of
the funeral of a murdered Providence police officer! Why don’t you
just tape a target to your back?”

“
He had babies! A family!”
I cried.

“
You have a family, too,”
Claire said. “We just happen to have better aim.”

“
We should have talked to
him. Given him a chance to do the right thing.”

Claire grabbed my shoulders. “Kit Anderson
was a father and a husband, but if I hadn’t taken him out, he would
have handed Ryan over to Donovan’s men, and Ryan would be dead
right now.”