Page 21 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

Something was wrong with Burke Broussard.

He entered his house, a smile pasted on his face, but Naomi wasn’t buying it.

Something terrible had happened.

And it had been in the last few minutes, if the reactions of Val and her husband were any indication. Both did a double take when he approached the large group gathered in his living room.

The couple exchanged a meaningful glance as they took their places on one of Broussard’s sofas.

At Val’s feet was her son Jace. He was a sweet kid.

He often treated the flower shop to pastries from the bakery where he worked, never letting Sylvi or Naomi pay him back.

He was shy and retiring, his six-foot frame hunched into itself, seeming reticent to take up space.

At Jace’s side was Elijah, who Naomi had only met a few times before tonight. He was Val’s stepson and was currently holding Jace’s hand tightly.

Lucien had returned with his wife Chelsea and their daughter, Harper. Poor little Harper looked shell-shocked. Lucien and Chelsea were sharing looks of worry.

James and Ruthanne sat hand in hand, and Naomi was so happy that her mother now had the kind of support she deserved.

Naomi still couldn’t believe that her mother had also been targeted by Detective Gaffney. Ruthanne might have been killed.

Naomi’s gaze flitted to Everett, who stood awkwardly alone. He leaned against the fireplace mantel, arms crossed over his chest. He was trying to look bored, but she could see the tension in his shoulders.

She wished she knew what he was thinking, but at least, for this moment, he was safe.

Harrison and Molly stood watch in the corners of the room, but it was clear to see that Molly was focused on her niece.

If Gaffney and his cohorts had done this—and everyone had agreed that was the most likely scenario—they couldn’t have picked a better way to distract Broussard’s crew.

“Burke?” Molly asked when the man walked into the room and sat in the ancient BarcaLounger.

He gave his people a tight smile. “My godsons were also targeted tonight. Someone tried to grab them when they were out with their mother.”

“Oh no,” Molly murmured. “They’re okay?”

“Shaken,” Broussard said. “But unhurt.”

“I think that’s safe to say about all of us,” Lucien said. “I know I’m shaken.”

“But Jace isn’t unhurt,” Elijah declared loudly. “They twisted his arm. It’s so bad, it’s already red and swelling.”

“Jace?” Val said, reaching for his arm. “Let me see.”

With a sigh, Jace pulled up his sleeve and Val was immediately on her feet, getting an ice pack.

Kaj leaned forward, gently taking the boy’s arm and probing. “It doesn’t feel broken.”

“It’s not,” Jace said. “I’ve had a broken arm before. This is just a bruise. Not even a sprain.”

“We need to get you checked out,” Val declared, placing the ice pack on Jace’s arm. She sat on the floor beside him, a worried frown on her face.

“I’m fine,” Jace assured her quietly. “I would tell you if I weren’t.”

She gave him a tight smile, then put her arm around his shoulders. “Okay.”

Naomi wrapped her arms around her middle, trying not to let the panic take over. Because none of this was okay. Not at all. She wondered when these people would decide she and Everett were not worth the trouble.

Broussard looked around the room. “Is anyone else hurt? Even a little? Harper?”

Harper didn’t say a word, merely shaking her head.

Broussard sighed. “Okay, let’s get all the information on the table. Jace, what happened tonight? Wait.” He looked around the room once again. “Where’s Antoine?”

“I’m here, Burke.” Antoine stuck his head out from the kitchen doorway. “I’ve made a snack tray for Elijah, but there’s enough for everyone.”

Naomi looked at the boy sitting on the floor curiously. He saw her looking and smiled. “I have type 1 diabetes. I have to eat regularly.”

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, feeling even more out of place. This group was a family, and she and her troubles had brought danger to them all.

Antoine brought in a tray of healthy snacks and placed it on the coffee table close to where Elijah and Jace sat, smiling when the boys attacked the food. He then took the last empty seat next to Naomi and offered her some cheese and almonds.

The sight of the food made her want to be sick. She shook her head.

“You need to eat something,” Antoine murmured. “You can’t do anyone any good if you pass out. One piece of cheese. Please.”

“I don’t think I can keep it down,” she murmured back, and wondered when Everett had last eaten.

“You didn’t cause this,” Antoine said, so kindly that her eyes burned. “This is not your fault, but we do need your help to figure things out. Your brain will think better if you’re not passed out.”

She took the cube of cheese he offered and forced herself to nibble on the corner, dabbing at her wet eyes with her fingertips. “I must look pretty awful if you’re so worried I’ll pass out.”

Antoine grimaced. “It’s been a rough day for us all, but you all got shot at and your son was nearly taken. Cut yourself some slack. Do you think Everett is hungry?”

Her son hadn’t moved, watching as the people in the room helped themselves to the food. “If I try to give him something, he’ll say no.”

“I won’t let him say no.” Antoine made a plate for Everett but said nothing to her son, merely placing the small plate on the mantel next to his head. Antoine retook his seat next to Naomi. “I can take notes, Burke.”

Broussard inclined his head in thanks. His mouth was set in a determined line, but his eyes seemed devastated. “Okay. Let’s get started. Jace? Could you tell us what happened?”

“I was coming out of the grocery store near our house. Nelly’s Corner Store.”

“When was this, exactly?” Antoine asked, opening his laptop.

“About six. I’d just put the bags in the trunk when this black SUV came up behind me.

It stopped real quick. The hatch went up and some guy got out from the very back.

He was wearing a black hoodie and a mask.

Like doctors wear.” The teenager glanced at Antoine.

“I couldn’t see his face, but he was as tall as me, maybe an inch taller.

I’m guessing he weighed two twenty or two twenty-five.

He grabbed my arm and twisted it while he dragged me toward the SUV. He was trying to break it.”

“Did he say anything?” Broussard asked.

Jace nodded. “Para mi hermano.”

Broussard’s brow furrowed. “ For my brother. I wonder if his brother was the guy whose arm Harrison broke when they tried to take Everett.”

“I don’t know,” Jace said. “That’s all the guy said. I yanked my arm away and ran back to the store. I thought he’d follow me, but he jumped back into the SUV and they drove away. The store owner called 911. I called my mom. And then you came to get us, Burke.”

“So,” Antoine said, “I have questions.”

Jace grinned unexpectedly. “I figured.”

Antoine chuckled, but sobered quickly. “I’m looking at the footage from the cameras pointing into the alley. From the moment the SUV stopped to the moment you got away was less than ten seconds.”

Jace gaped at him. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” Antoine picked up a remote control and turned on the large flat-screen on Broussard’s wall, having evidently connected his laptop to the TV. “Watch.”

Naomi lifted her gaze to the large screen where Jace was approaching his car, carrying three grocery bags. As he’d described, he put the bags in his trunk, then spun around, eyes wide, as the SUV charged toward him.

They all watched as the man jumped out of the SUV and grabbed Jace’s arm.

At first, Jace was like a deer in the headlights, not fighting back as the man dragged him toward the back of the SUV. The man’s hands twisted Jace’s arm as he dragged him, and then he paused at the back of the SUV, grabbing something.

“It’s a piece of white cloth,” Antoine said.

On-screen, Jace jerked his arm free, giving the man a hard shove before running back to the store.

“Watch the guy’s hand,” Antoine advised.

The man made an attempt to grab at Jace, but he was already running away. The white fabric he held dropped from his grip and fluttered to the pavement.

“The police picked it up,” Val said, her voice trembling. “They found a white powder in it and have sent it to the lab for identification.”

Jace shuddered. “That would have sucked.”

Elijah shook his head. “But that probably wouldn’t have knocked Jace out. That whole thing where you breathe it in and go instantly unconscious, that’s just in the movies. That guy was big, but so is Jace. What did they expect would happen?”

Broussard gave the boy a nod. “Very good question. Was anything like that found at the scene of Harper’s attempted kidnapping, Chelsea?”

She shook her head. “No. Not that the police found. But Harper’s only ten years old. She couldn’t fight like Jace did.”

Something was bothering Naomi. Something didn’t feel right. “Antoine, can you run that clip again? Jace, do you mind?”

“No, ma’am,” the teenager said. “I don’t mind. I’m kind of interested to see it again, too.”

“Why?” Broussard asked, his tone not unkind. Only curious.

“Because something was off about it,” she said. “I’m not sure what yet.”

From his post next to the fireplace, Everett made a scoffing sound and Naomi winced.

But Broussard did more than wince. He slowly stood and, once again, she was struck by how massive the man really was. He was built like a tank.

A very safe tank.

Broussard turned to Everett. “Got somethin’ to say, Everett?”

For a moment, Naomi thought Everett would back down, but instead he lifted his chin. “She’s acting like she was a real cop, but she wasn’t. Just a glorified UberEats driver.”

“What did you say?” Broussard asked quietly in a tone that sent shivers down Naomi’s spine. “I could not have heard you right.”

Everett rolled his eyes. “She picked up packages from drop boxes and delivered them to the evidence room. Day in and day out.”

“You’re a fool, boy,” Broussard drawled mildly.