"Come on. Let's find coffee that doesn't taste like motor oil."
They leave, and Rodriguez pulls up a chair. He looks tired, older somehow.
"First, I owe you both an apology," he says. "I let personal feelings cloud my judgment. I should have trusted you, Mariana."
"You were trying to protect me."
"Still." He glances at me. "You were right, Kozlov. I was in love with her. I still am."
The honesty is unexpected. I feel my hackles rise, but Mariana's hand on my arm stops me.
"Daniel—"
"It's okay. You're married, you're happy, you're having babies with the man you chose." He manages a smile. "I'll get over it. Eventually."
"You're a good man," Mariana says. "You'll find someone—"
"Maybe. But right now, I need to focus on cleaning up the mess Harrison left. There are thirty-nine open cases related to his trafficking. Families who deserve answers."
"We'll help however we can," I offer, surprising myself.
Rodriguez looks equally surprised. "You'd do that?"
"Mariana's right. You're a good man. Good men deserve support."
"From Ghost?"
"Ghost is dead. But Mikhail Kozlov, security consultant, might have some relevant information."
He actually smiles. "I'll take whatever help I can get."
The next hour is paperwork and recorded statements. Rodriguez is thorough but kind, especially when Mariana has to relive believing I was dead. When we're done, he stands to leave.
"For what it's worth," he says, "I'm glad you found each other. Even if it means I lost my chance."
"You never had a chance," I say, but not unkindly.
"I know. But a man can dream." He pauses at the door. "Take care of her, Kozlov. All of them."
"All three of them."
After he leaves, Mariana curls back against me. "That was nice of you."
"See? I can be nice."
"Since when?"
"Since I realized I've won, because you are my wife, and you are carrying my children. I can afford to be magnanimous."
"Magnanimous. Big word for a showoff."
"More like a expectant father and confused husband."
"What's confusing?"
"Everything. How do I go from Ghost to... suburban dad? Do we buy a minivan? Join the PTA? Have barbecues?"
She laughs so hard the monitors beep. "You. In a minivan. At a PTA meeting."
