Page 19 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

Burke had no kids, but Gaffney had once threatened his godsons. He hated to worry Kaleb and Juliette, but better safe than sorry. They’d want to know about any possible threat to their children.

Dreading the call, he took out his cell phone as he followed Lucien to the truck.

—

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

Monday, February 24, 6:20 p.m.

“I heard loud voices. What’s happening?”

Naomi spun from Burke Broussard’s kitchen sink to see Everett hesitating in the doorway.

She’d been talking—more loudly than she’d thought, apparently—with James Haywood and her mother, who were sitting suspiciously close together.

That the two had become fast friends while she was in prison was a topic for a different day, because they’d just received a barrage of calls and texts, tersely telling them to stay in Broussard’s house.

Harrison was here to guard Everett, and Molly Sutton, who’d come to relieve Val, had just gotten a phone call that had shaken her soundly.

Which was understandable.

“There were attempts to kidnap two more kids,” Naomi said, trying not to bend under the guilt that was threatening to crush her. “Val’s son and Lucien’s daughter. The girl is also Molly’s niece.”

Molly was in Broussard’s living room, still on the phone with her sister. While Harper was physically okay, Naomi knew that Molly really wanted to be with her family.

But Broussard was handling things. Everyone, it seemed, would be coming here.

Everett’s hesitation became accusation. “They’re coming after the investigators’ kids…why?”

“I don’t know. I only know what they wanted to force me into doing.”

Behind her, her mother and James went still. It was like everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see how Everett would respond.

Naomi hadn’t expected to see her son. He’d holed himself away in his borrowed bedroom so that he didn’t have to talk to her.

But he’d obviously heard them talking. Her voice had pitched higher in panic when she’d realized that other people’s children were also being targeted.

And then James and her mother had shouted at her to stop being stupid when she’d declared that she should leave, that she was putting everyone in danger with her presence.

At least he’d come down to check. That had to count for something, but she wasn’t sure what.

“They don’t want Burke’s people to haul their drugs,” Everett stated flatly. “They couldn’t expect they’d cooperate. None of them have prison records.”

“Everett,” James snapped.

Naomi held up a hand. “He’s right, James.

I have been to prison. There might be an expectation that I’d be willing to break the law again—if they thought I’d broken it in the first place.

But they don’t think that, because they set me up six years ago.

Everett might not believe me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did not steal anything. Not six years ago. Not ever.”

Everett snorted quietly. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Wait.” Naomi’s mother came to her feet. “Everett, I need to tell you something.”

“Mom.” Naomi switched on the kettle. “You’re not going to change his mind.”

James hadn’t moved from where he sat, but he looked angry as well. “Sit down, son.”

Everett smirked, looking so much like Jimmy in that moment. “No.”

“Do what your grandfather says, Everett,” a deep voice growled. It was Harrison Banks, the man who’d kept her son safe. He lurked behind Everett in the hallway, and that gave Naomi some measure of peace, knowing that the man wasn’t letting her son out of his sight. “You’re being disrespectful.”

“They’re going to tell me that Naomi is innocent,” Everett said, his tone mocking. “That she went to prison to keep me safe. That I should be grateful. That I should open my arms and give her a big hug. That about right, Grandpa?”

“All but the hug, yes,” James said. “I won’t ask you to hug anyone you don’t want to. But your grandmother says that she wants to talk, so sit your ass down.”

Everett rolled his eyes and took a chair at Broussard’s kitchen table. “What?”

Ruthanne sank into her seat beside James and folded her hands on the table. “There are a few things you don’t know.” She cast an anxious glance at Naomi, then James. “Things I haven’t told anyone. And I probably should have.”

James stared at her. “What?”

“I also got a visit from Detective Gaffney.” Ruthanne’s gaze dropped to her hands when both Naomi and James gasped aloud.

“What the hell, Mom?” Naomi demanded. “When?”

“When I hired Shavon.”

Shavon Campbell, the attorney who’d managed to get Naomi’s conviction overturned.

Ruthanne had Everett’s attention. “Gaffney was waiting for me at my car when I came off my shift at the hospital. He cautioned me not to proceed with my efforts.”

“What did he threaten you with?” James asked, rage bubbling through every word. “?‘What did he say, exactly?”

“That it wouldn’t be healthy for Naomi if I pushed to have her conviction appealed. Or healthy for me.” Ruthanne swallowed. “I almost called it off, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her being in that awful place for even one more day. I signed Shavon’s contract the next day.”

“And then what happened?” Everett asked, his tone still suspicious.

“A week later my brakes failed as I drove home.”

James sucked in a breath and Naomi’s knees wobbled. Carefully she lowered herself into one of Broussard’s kitchen chairs.

“Mom.” That her mother might have been killed made her chest tight with panic.

Ruthanne took Naomi’s hand, squeezing gently. “I was okay. I wasn’t going too fast and I was able to get the car to the curb. Scraped my tires up but good and dented my front bumper when I hit a tree, but I was able to stop.”

“And you have proof of this?” Everett asked, stony-faced.

James opened his mouth, but Naomi’s own fury had already exploded. “You can say what you want about me, but you will not question your grandmother’s word.” She was satisfied when shame flickered in Everett’s eyes.

“I apologize, Grandma,” the boy said stiffly.

“As you should,” James muttered, then turned to Ruthanne. “What did the mechanic say?”

“That my brake line was frayed. He thought it was deliberate, but he couldn’t be certain. He took photos of the damage, in case I wanted to file a police report.”

“And did you?” James asked.

“No. Because it was then that I realized why my daughter hadn’t said a word in her own defense during her trial. I figured she’d been threatened, same as me. So I didn’t report it. I was okay, but she couldn’t get away if someone tried to hurt her in her cell. Or in the dining hall. Again.”

James pushed Ruthanne’s hair off her face, a tender gesture. “So you pushed ahead with the new attorney?”

“I did. And if you’re about to ask if I was worried they’d try again to hurt me, of course I was. But I worried more about what would happen to Naomi if I allowed her to stay in prison.”

“Did they try again?” James asked. “To hurt you?”

Naomi searched her mother’s face, because the older woman was hesitating. “Mom? Did they try again?”

“Not to hurt me. But I did notice someone following me home from work, so I began to carpool with a few of the other nurses. Luckily I’d already put in my papers for retirement, so the work commute became a nonissue.”

“Mama,” Naomi whispered, feeling like a child again. “I hate that you were in danger.”

“I hate that you went to prison for something you did not do.”

“We need to tell this to Mr.Broussard,” Naomi said. “And to his friend, the police captain. Broussard says we can trust him.”

“Did you tell him your story?” Everett asked, still with the smallest of sneers.

“I did, after you were nearly grabbed off the street. I don’t care about myself at this point, but that they nearly took you…that’s what I’ve been trying to avoid this whole time.”

“Everett,” James said quietly, “do you still doubt your mother’s innocence?”

Everett rose from the table. “I don’t know,” he said, and he sounded honest. “Even if she didn’t do it, I think they had some reason for choosing her—which I don’t know yet.

But if this was some kind of elaborate setup, they had to have known the accusation would stick.

She must have done something that let them know that they could get away with it, that the jury would believe the charges.

So maybe she didn’t steal those drugs but did something else just as bad. ”

Naomi was taken aback. “You’ve clearly thought this through.”

Everett met her eyes, his cold and certain. “I’ve had six years to think things through.” He left the kitchen and stomped up the stairs, Harrison on his heels.

Naomi winced when a door slammed on the third floor. “I don’t think he’ll ever come around.”

“Jimmy’s been putting lies in his mind,” James said sadly. “Maybe give him time.”

“Or…” Ruthanne bit her lower lip thoughtfully. “Or he could have a point. They had to have some reason to believe that they could get charges to stick. Or at least some reason for choosing you.”

Naomi shook her head. “I can’t count the hours I spent thinking about this while I lay in my cell, trying to sleep. I had a job that made me vulnerable. I handled evidence, all day, every day.”

James sighed. “And you were made more vulnerable because you had a child they could use against you. I didn’t realize that Everett had this all figured out in his head. I should have. He’s a smart boy. He likes things to make sense.”

“So do I.” Molly Sutton came into the kitchen, her cell phone clutched in her hand.

“I’d hoped to get to why you were chosen, Naomi, when Lucien and I came to see you, but we got off on the wrong foot.

Once everyone is here and the kids are settled, I’d like to delve into that question again.

Understanding why you were chosen, and why Gaffney said you should never have gotten out, might help us figure out how to clear your name. ”

—

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

Monday, February 24, 7:15 p.m.