Page 15 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

Naomi shuddered, so very cold. But Broussard’s hand on her face was warm, his hand on her back steadying.

“I don’t know if Cresswell was stealing evidence.

I only know that I didn’t.” And then the words were coming in a torrent, and she didn’t think she could stop them if she tried.

“I did not steal anything, but I couldn’t prove it.

I was a good cop. An honest cop. I gave twelve years of my life to the NOPD, but someone thought I’d make a good scapegoat.

I was going to fight. I thought I would win, because”—she drew a deeper breath, feeling her lungs inflate—“because I was a good cop . I thought I’d be defended, that my union representative would help me.

That someone would step up and say, ‘Naomi did not do this.’ But that never happened. ”

“What did happen?” Holmes asked.

“I got a visit from Detective Gaffney. At my home. He got in my face. He grabbed my hair.” She’d tried so hard to block out that visit for so long, but now she welcomed the memory.

Fury bubbled up and she glared at Captain Holmes.

“He grabbed my breasts and told me all the things he’d like to do to me, because he ‘owned’ me now.

He said that I’d be a ‘good girl,’ that I’d be quiet.

That I’d let them convict me.” She heard a sob and was startled to realize it had come from her own throat.

“He said that he’d kill my son. That he’d send Everett to me in pieces.

In pieces , Captain. He was going to torture my child.

I wanted to believe that someone in the NOPD would help me, but I was on my own.

I was a pariah, when I’d been respected before.

It wasn’t the job I wanted, truthfully, but that’s how my career went, so I accepted it.

I did my job and I did it fucking well. Until I got betrayed by the men and women who were supposed to have my back.

Nobody did. Not the NOPD, not my attorney.

Nobody was going to protect my son. Nobody but me. ”

She sobbed again, leaning into Broussard’s hand, still cupping her cheek. His thumb was wiping her tears, but he didn’t tell her to stop. Didn’t tell her to calm down.

He was letting her speak and she was grateful.

“So I obeyed, Captain Holmes.” She spat the words, not caring if she was respectful.

Not caring if he sent her back. She was going to be heard.

“I said nothing. My mother begged me to defend myself, but I couldn’t.

All I could see in my mind was my son, my baby, chopped into pieces.

So I shut my mouth and hoped the judge would be lenient.

Did you know I had a plea deal offered to me? ”

“Yes,” Holmes said, and, to her relief, he looked shaken.

Not as shaken as she felt, but it was something.

“Well, I didn’t. My attorney didn’t tell me.

So I just hoped. And guess what? The judge was not lenient.

He gave me thirty years. I served five. It was only my mother’s belief in me—and the fact that you realized that Cresswell was a piece of shit and threw him in prison, too—that saved me.

I was lucky, Captain Holmes. I was so damn lucky .

Because nobody was there for me. Nobody helped me.

Just my mother and my second attorney, who believed in checking all the boxes.

It was the test she requested that set me free.

Not NOPD. Not justice. Just blind, dumb luck.

” She exhaled, shuddering once again. “And that, Captain Holmes, is what happened.”

There was silence in the room for a long, long moment.

Naomi closed her eyes, afraid of what was coming next.

“I didn’t ask Gaffney to approach me again.

I was willing to turn myself in, to go back to prison if my son was kept safe.

But these people here convinced me that they could help me, too.

So if you’re going to send me back, do it now.

” Her throat closed and she had to get her tears under control.

“Because letting me hope for another miracle, for another stroke of blind, dumb luck, is too cruel.”

“Okay,” Holmes said on a sigh. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah,” Naomi snapped, opening her eyes to glare at him once more. “It was a lot every day for the five years I served of a sentence I didn’t deserve. Whether you believe me or not.”

“I believe you,” Holmes said. “Thank you for telling me.” He cleared his throat. “Did Detective Gaffney do more than grope you? Was his sexual assault…more involved?”

“Oh shit,” Naomi breathed. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Well, you did,” Broussard said, his tone gruff. “I’m glad you did, even though I want to rip Gaffney’s head clean off his neck.”

“He didn’t,” she said quietly. “He would have, but my mother came home. I’d put my house on the market to pay for Mason Lord to defend me, so I was living with my mom.

Gaffney ran out the back as she was coming in the front.

She knew something had happened, but I wouldn’t tell her.

I couldn’t. I was afraid they’d send her to me in pieces, too. ”

“Fucking hell,” Holmes muttered. “I need to think on how to proceed.”

She finally looked at him. “Proceed with what?”

“Gaffney. You’re not the first woman who’s filed a complaint against him. So far, nothing has stuck.”

“I’m not going to file a formal complaint, Captain,” she said firmly. No way in hell was she putting herself back in those crosshairs. Not ever again. “I just want to be left alone. I want my son safe. That’s all.”

“I understand. Thank you for telling me what happened. Burke, I’ll see myself out.” He paused in the doorway. “Phin’s back. He’s got plywood for the front window.”

“Is SodaPop with him?” Burke asked.

“She is,” Holmes confirmed.

“Good,” Naomi murmured.

“Miss Cranston,” Holmes said, “I understand that you want nothing to do with the NOPD, but I’m offering Burke my help in protecting you and your son. He just has to ask.”

Naomi couldn’t bring herself to thank the man. So she nodded once.

He left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Which was when Naomi realized she was leaning on Burke Broussard, her head now on his broad chest, his heart pounding hard and fast against her cheek.

Embarrassed, she pulled away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lean like that.”

He gently stroked his palm over her hair, and she could feel the tremble in his hand. “It’s okay. You were somethin’ else.”

She slumped. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I think you had a lot of anger to let out. I’m…proud of you.”

She looked up at him, startled. But he was sincere. “Thank you,” she managed to say. Then she gathered her thoughts. “Will I be able to see Everett at some point?”

“He’s staying in my house. I told him there was a lot of room for him to avoid you if he felt like he had to, but you’ll be under the same roof.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a chance , she thought, buoyed just a little.

It was adrenaline, she knew. She’d crash soon. But she’d see her son and that gave her hope.