Chapter 84 Chapter 84
For the stunt that fucking bitch pulled, I would gladly put her behind bars.
Monday was a shit show. Someone spilled the beans, and the entire company knew, even fucking social media. My parents barged over and tried to find out what happened. I just told them the important parts; I didn’t mention the screw-up about the woman I slept with.
Garrison was still on the run, and Nomad made a public announcement that she had nothing to do with them. I was still sitting there when Joe walked in and put the file down on the table.
“The file on Anna Ryan,” he said before walking out.
I opened the file and read it.
SUBJECT PROFILE: RYAN, ANNA C.
CONFIDENTIALITY LEVEL: STANDARD SEARCH PARAMETERS: "ANNA RYAN" + "DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA" + "1995"
Full Name: Anna Catherine Ryan
DOB: November 14, 1995 (30 Years Old)
POB: Washington, D.C. (Howard University Hospital)
Current Status: Single / Only Child
Family Status: Sole survivor. Father (Robert Ryan) passed in 2019; Mother (Sarah Ryan) passed in 2022. No siblings.
Primary Residence: 1342 Otis St NE, Washington, DC 20017.
Notes: This is the subject's childhood home in Brookland. It was left to her in her parents' will. A modest, two-story row home. Property taxes are paid on time, but records show no major renovations or high-end upgrades in the last decade. It is her only asset.
EDUCATION
High School: Elizabeth Seton High School. (Graduated 2013).
GPA: 5.1. Involved in choir and yearbook.
College: University of the District of Columbia (UDC).
Major: Business Administration.
Graduation Year: 2018.
Notes: Took five years to finish. No honors, no scandals. Just a regular degree.
WORK HISTORY
Current Employment: Administrative Assistant at District Health & Wellness (a mid-sized clinic in Maryland).
Salary: ~$58,000/year.
Role: Handles scheduling, insurance paperwork, and basic office management.
Past Employment: Customer Service Rep at a local insurance agency (3 years).
Waitstaff at a diner in Silver Spring (during college).
FOOTPRINT
Financials: Subject lives paycheck to paycheck with a small "rainy day" fund left over from her mother’s life insurance. No debt besides basic utilities and upkeep on the house.
Transportation: Drives a 2016 Honda Civic. Registered in D.C.
Digital Presence: A Facebook page with photos of her cat and her backyard garden. A LinkedIn that hasn't been updated in two years.
Social Life: Small circle. Mostly old friends from high school. No "high-society" connections. She stays in her lane.
SUMMARY
Anna Ryan is a normal middle-class woman. She was born in the District, stayed in the District, and likely will stay there. Her only-child status makes her isolated, and her mid-level career makes her invisible to high-level surveillance. She is exactly who she says she is: a girl from Brookland trying to keep her parents' house standing.
I closed the file. She wasn’t Tessa or anyone remarkable; she was just an ordinary person who happened to be at the right place at the right time and at the wrong time. There was nothing I could do about it. It already happened, and I couldn't change it. I stared at the picture on my desk.
“Beauty, please forgive me this once; it won’t happen again, I promise,” I said, staring at her picture.
I threw the file into the drawer and forgot about it. I continued working. Halfway into the workday, my office door burst open, and Jax came in with the girl, Tessa’s friend that had brought the box.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s not her,” she said, and I looked at her.
“Not who, what?” I asked.
“Mr. Rhyland, I was contacted by the forensic reporter and the detectives. They found the head, and from dental records, it's confirmed it wasn't Tessa. “She isn’t dead,” the girl said, and I stood up.
“Jax, get Joe here to explain this now,” I said. A few minutes later the door opened, and Joe came in.
“Sorry I’m late. Jax contacted me after the young lady contacted him, and I've been digging. The ID in the victim's pocket was worn out; the original name on the ID is
"TERESA JENSEN." I've checked, and there is a missing. There is a missing report from Tersa Jansen, age 27. Similar in description to Ms. Jansen. They found the head two days ago and made a conclusive decision that they identified the wrong individual,” he said.
“Find her,” I said, looking at Jax. “Joe, find out her digital footprints,” I said, looking at the girl.
Jax and Joe walked out, and she just stood there looking at me.
“Mr. Rhyland, what exactly is your relationship with Tessa?” she asked, looking at me.
“If I were to tell you, what would you do?” I counter-asked.
“What would I do? Nothing. We just want to find Tessa. I just want everyone around Tessa to have good intentions for her.” She said,
“Tessa’s my wife,” I said, watching her face, but her expression didn’t change.
“I figured. I saw the ring on your finger, and I saw hers, and they were similar. We all figured it out the first time we saw you. But it's not our place. I've already told the others, and we’ll start looking for her. See you later, Mr. Rhyland. Please let us know what you find out, and we’ll do the same,” she said before walking out.
After she left, I ended the work day early and headed to my parents' place. When I walked in, I told them exactly what I just heard.
“So where is she?” My mother asked.
“I have no idea.” I said with frustration.
“Did she run away, or was she kidnapped or something?” My father asked.
“I have no idea, but I’ll find her,” I said, standing up and walking out. I stopped in my tracks and smiled. My beauty pulled a fucking runner; she actually managed to hide from me for six months. Oh, her ass was in trouble when I found her.
Three weeks Joe and the others have been searching for three weeks, and nothing not a single clue. It was like she just vanished into thin air, leaving not a single trace. She managed to do it.
I was sitting at the head of the conference table, and her friends were sitting near her.
“Start talking now.”
COLT: Well, she asked us to be her decoys.
PAIGE: When she would be out of Georgetown, she would tell us, and we would use her jeep.
JOE: And her phone?
SAVANNAH: We had it; we had a wig and some of her clothes. Every time we stepped outside as her. We had her phone, and we were with someone. She had a burner phone.
BROOKS: Savannah or Paige was the decoy. She would tell us where she was, and we would meet up as a group; that way she had an alibi.
HARPER: We did because we could and we wanted to; she never mentioned anything about disappearing.
PAIGE: We swear. One night she met us, and we went drinking; she seemed fine and not like she was about to leave.
JOE: And the burner phone number?