“Yes,” he said, closing the door behind himself. He closed the blinds, too, so the bullpen couldn’t see us. “Did Jana make those cookies?”
“She did,” I said. “They’re good. Take one.”
“Oh, I have. I’m not taking more. I’m waiting to binge until after Christmas,” he said.
“You’re still coming on Christmas day?”
“Yeah, of course,” he replied. “Nat is coming too. She’s bringing her boyfriend.”
“Martin is real?” I asked. “Not a catfish?”
“He could still be a catfish, but yeah, he’s real,” Alek said. “And apparently, an absolute sweetheart.”
“Good. Your sister deserves a good boyfriend.”
“Yeah, she does.”
I cocked my head. “What does that mean?”
He didn’t meet my eye right away, just lifted his mug and took a long sip. “You don’t need to be a member of MENSA to figure that one out, Ruby.”
I set my mug down a little harder than necessary. “Ugh. I hope you’re not talking about him. Because you and I had this conversation.”
“Did we?” he asked, tone light but eyes sharp. “I think we danced around it.”
I folded my arms, trying not to let the tightness in my chest show. “He’s a terrible idea.”
Alek raised an eyebrow. “Lot of terrible ideas feel pretty good at the time.”
I rubbed at my forehead. “There’s something I need to tell you. Sit down.”
He sat down, taking a sip from his coffee.
“I told Julian I’m going ahead with the divorce,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I want Rosie legally protected.”
Alek didn’t blink. “No chance Kieran is stupid enough to assert.”
“I don’t want to give the Callahans any leeway at all.” I wrapped both hands around my mug, anchoring myself. “Look, I don’t want to die, obviously, right? I need to be here. I need to see my daughter grow up. But if anything does happen to me—if I…” My voice wavered. “If they prosecute me. Or if they disappear me. I need to make sure Rosie isn’t raised by a Callahan.”
A flicker of something crossed Alek’s face—impressed or maybe just deeply, deeply sad.
“Wow,” he said after a pause. “You’re really doing it.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “I’m really fucking doing it.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, setting the coffee cup aside. “This can work to your advantage. If you sever ties, there’s no motive for the feds to pin conspiracy on you. Lean into it, Ruby. Act like your life doesn’t depend on him, even if it does. Tell them everything. Control the narrative.”
“Everything?” I asked, brows lifting.
“Not about the night Russell died,” he said quickly, “but Christ—everything else, yes.”
“Seriously?” I blinked at him, unsure if I’d heard right.
“I’m not telling you to snitch,” Alek replied, his tone sharp but low. “I’m telling you to think smart. You know more than any informant they could turn. And you’d mitigate your own risk. Stop being…I don’t know. Noble?”
I stared at him for a moment, jaw tight. “It wouldn’t mitigate his risk.”
“You’re so sure about that?” he shot back. “You think the DOJ cares where his cock is? You said it yourself—they’ll charge him eventually, and they’ll charge what they can. The charge will be conspiracy. Isn’t it better to get ahead of it than wait for them to figure out your connection? It’s proximity. It’s circumstantial.”
