Page 18 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Mason Lord told Burke when the three of them sat down to dinner.

“Same,” Burke said, not even bothering to look at the menu. He knew exactly what he’d order—the grilled pork chop would warm up nicely if this dinner went to shit, as he figured it would. He’d just take the meal to go.

They placed their orders and then Mason folded his hands in front of him. “How can I help you?”

Burke glanced at Lucien, who wore a tortured expression.

Okay, looks like I’m up at bat. “We took on a new client today. Someone you defended six years ago.”

Mason frowned. “I can’t talk to you about my clients’ cases. You know that.”

“I’m hoping you’ll make an exception,” Burke said honestly. “Naomi Cranston.”

Mason sat back in his chair, casting an accusing look at Lucien. “Luke? What’s this about?”

Lucien drew a breath. “She came to us today for protection. For her son.”

“Okay,” Mason said warily. “And?”

“You’re aware that she was released from prison,” Lucien said. “That her conviction was overturned.”

Mason’s jaw tightened. “I’m aware.”

Lucien squared his shoulders and met his friend’s gaze. “She didn’t get a fair trial the first time around, Mason.”

Mason’s chin lifted. “I represented her to the best of my ability with the facts in evidence.”

Lucien looked sick. “She says she was unaware she’d been offered a plea bargain by the DA.”

“She’s lying,” Mason said flatly. “She lied six years ago. It was only luck that got her out of prison. A goddamn technicality.”

Lucien pursed his lips. “You didn’t ask to have the drugs tested. The ones she was found with.”

Mason leveled Lucien with a furious glare. “I did request it. The test results must have gotten lost.”

“Mason, I—”

“You what, Luke?” Mason interrupted loudly, then lowered his voice when other diners turned to look at them. “You believe that liar over me? She stole evidence. She never even testified in her own defense.”

Burke’s chest hurt, watching Lucien try to talk to his friend. “Look, Mr.Lord, Lucien didn’t want to bring you into this. He’s done so on my request.”

“He could have said no,” Mason said acidly.

“You paid off your mortgage on your old house six years ago,” Lucien said quietly. “I remember when we had the celebration. It wasn’t too long after Miss Cranston was found guilty and sentenced to thirty years in prison.”

Mason was clearly struggling to hold his temper. “Are you suggesting I took a bribe, Luke?”

Lucien had gone very still. “Did you?”

“Fuck you,” Mason snapped, slapping his napkin onto the table. “I don’t have to stay and listen to this.”

“You moved your kids from the public school to a private school that same year,” Lucien said. “Hefty tuition fees. Brittney said you got a bonus when you joined the firm.”

Burke might have missed the fear that flickered in Mason’s eyes if he hadn’t been watching so closely. But the fear was real.

“When did you talk to Brittney?”

“Today. After I left Miss Cranston’s place of employ. Detective Gaffney confronted her on Friday, Mason. Wanted her to run drugs for him. We think this is a way to get her sent back to prison. He said she wasn’t supposed to get out. Made it sound personal.”

“You talked to Brittney about this?”

“Only about how you got the kids into that school. I told her that we were looking for a more secure school for Harper. And we are. She said you got the bonus.”

“Because I did. Because I earned it.”

Lucien shook his head sadly. “You’d only been with the firm for a few months at that time. I called your firm. Asked if they gave out bonuses to the new attorneys. They said that their attorneys weren’t eligible for bonuses until they’d been there for at least two years.”

“That may be the policy now. It wasn’t then.”

He was lying. Burke could tell. “Sir, did they threaten your family? If they did, we need to know. We’re not going to report you, but we need to know what happened with Naomi Cranston’s case.”

“No, they did not threaten my family,” Mason said, but his discomfort was palpable. He rose, tossing cash onto the table for his meal. “Luke, don’t come over anymore. I’ll make your excuses to Brittney.”

“They tried to kidnap Naomi’s son today,” Burke said as Mason walked by him. “If they threatened your family, they may do so again.”

Mason’s eyes flashed with rage. “If my kids get hurt because of you, I will come after you, Broussard. You’ll wish you’d never been born.”

“Tell them to watch out for a black SUV, tinted windows.”

Mason went dangerously pale. “If my kids are sucked into this, I will kill you,” he whispered so that only Burke and Lucien could hear.

“Mason,” Lucien said, heartbreak in his voice. “How could you?”

“And if they’d threatened Harper? What would you have done, Saint Luke ?”

The venom in Mason’s tone made Lucien flinch.

Burke wanted to flinch, too, but he didn’t. “What did they threaten to do? Send your children to you in pieces?”

Shock pushed Mason’s rage aside. He swayed on his feet before grabbing the back of the chair he’d vacated.

“They did,” Burke concluded. “I’m sorry that your children were threatened.

They threatened Naomi Cranston with the same thing.

That’s why she didn’t speak in her own defense six years ago.

But she hired us to protect him today. His bodyguard was the person who stopped the attempted kidnapping just a few hours ago. ”

“What are you going to do?” Mason asked, his fingers digging into the chair.

“About your malfeasance in the case of Naomi Cranston?” Burke asked.

“Nothing. We only met with you because Lucien was sure Naomi was lying. He didn’t think you could have been complicit in her unfair trial.

Now, at least, he’ll be able to work on her case with an open mind.

So thank you for that. Keep watch on your kids. ”

Mason hesitated. “Luke. Please don’t tell Brittney.”

Lucien couldn’t have looked more devastated.

“That’s what you’re worried about? That Brittney will find out?

You don’t care that an innocent woman spent five years in prison?

Dammit, Mason. I just—” He stopped when his phone began to buzz, his face going as sheet-white as Mason’s.

“It’s Chelsea. She just texted me to pick up. It’s an emergency.”

Mason Lord stood frozen, watching as Lucien answered.

“Chels? What’s wrong?” He listened and his gaze flew to Burke’s, terrified.

“She says that a black SUV drove up behind Harper when they were coming out of a diner in Mid-City. Someone opened the back door and tried to grab her. A bystander stopped it.” He returned to his call.

“Where are you now?…Okay, that’s good. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

” He ended the call. “They ran back inside the diner and called 911.”

Burke had already risen and was adding cash for his and Lucien’s dinners to the money Mason had left behind. “It might be her former in-laws. It might have nothing to do with this case. Let’s go.”

But then his phone buzzed, a call from Val, accompanied by a text.

911.

So Burke answered, his stomach roiling. “Val? What’s wrong?”

“Jace,” she said, choking on her son’s name. She sounded frantic. “He almost got grabbed by that fucking black SUV, Burke. They tried to drag him into it, but he fought them off.”

“When was this? Where is he now?”

“He was coming out of the grocery store near our house about a half hour ago. He ran back inside the store as soon as he got free and called me. I called 911. I’m almost to him now. He’s so scared.” Her voice broke on a sob. “Dammit, Burke. I can’t have him hurt because of me.”

Burke’s mind was spinning, his heart racing way too fast. Jace was seventeen now and well over six feet tall. Thank the Lord he’d had enough strength to fight them off. “They tried to grab Harper just now, coming out of a diner in Mid-City.”

“Oh my God,” Val gasped. “They’re going after our kids. I need to tell Kaj to keep Elijah with him.”

Kaj was the prosecutor for Orleans Parish. Elijah was his twelve-year-old son.

“Call Kaj now. I’m going with Lucien to get Chelsea and Harper, then I’ll be by to get you and Jace. Everyone’s coming to my house so we can regroup.”

“Okay. I have to go. I just got here and the cops are here.”

“Good. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Burke ended the call and looked at Mason. “Watch your kids, Mr.Lord. These guys mean business, and if they think you’ve told us anything, your kids could also be at risk.”

“Fuck you all,” Mason whispered harshly. “They have no business touching my children. They are innocent.”

Lucien rounded the table and grabbed Mason’s shirt, lifting him onto his toes and giving him a hard shake. “So is Harper, you selfish prick. So is Jace. So is Elijah. They’re children. ”

“Gentlemen.” A man in a black suit approached them. “Please take your argument outside.”

Lucien released Mason with a shove. “Yeah. We’re leaving. Mason, if you don’t tell Brittney about the danger to your kids, I will.” Then he walked away without looking back.

Burke pinned Mason with an icy look. “Why didn’t you report the threat six years ago, Mr.Lord?”

Mason’s shoulders slumped. “Who was I going to report it to? The cops? They were the cops.”

“Yeah, that’s what Naomi said, too. But she was on trial, basically alone. You were a respected former prosecutor. If you’d stood up six years ago, we might not be here right now.”

And , Burke thought guiltily, if I’d gone public six years ago, I might have stopped them, too .

Burke followed the way Lucien had gone, leaving Mason Lord to deal with his conscience alone, because he had another call to make.

Someone was threatening their children. It was mind-boggling but, in a way, it made a sick sort of sense. Targeting their children was the best way to put Burke’s people off their game.