Page 3 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

Naomi glanced up to find Sylvi staring Broussard down, a tiny five-foot woman glaring defiantly at a brickhouse of a man. He had to be six-five. His dark hair was cut short, his handsome face tanned, despite it being winter.

She glanced at the bicycle leaning against one wall. Biking to work would explain it. She had the brief, insane desire to grab his bike and escape the man’s hawklike gaze.

“Sylvi,” she whispered. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” Sylvi snapped. “Burke, you might think you know about Naomi’s situation, but I can assure you that you do not.”

“I know enough,” Broussard said, his deep Cajun drawl rumbling out of his chest. It was a broad chest. A strong one.

He’d be able to protect Everett. And he had the reputation for taking on hard cases. Once she was back in prison, Everett would need all the help he could get.

“Did you know she was out?” Sylvi demanded.

“I’d heard.”

“Her sentence was overturned.”

“On a technicality,” Broussard said mildly, his Cajun accent thick. “An overturned conviction is not a declaration of innocence.”

And there was the rub. Naomi would never be looked at with anything other than derision again, and that hurt. However, Everett was more important than her hurt feelings.

“I want to hire you,” Naomi blurted out. “To protect my son.”

Sylvi and Broussard both turned to stare at her. Sylvi was stunned. Broussard looked…curious.

Curiosity was better than derision.

“Naomi, no .” Sylvi’s eyes filled with tears. “You can’t .”

“I don’t have a choice.” Tugging her hand free of Sylvi’s grip, she faced Broussard head-on. “I’ve been given an ultimatum. Transport illegal drugs or my son will be harmed. If I don’t do what they say, they will hurt him. He’s only sixteen. He’s innocent of all this.”

Broussard glanced at Sylvi, who was now openly crying.

Her boss had a tender heart. Which, Naomi supposed, was the reason Sylvi had given her a job to begin with.

“Why not take this to the cops?” he asked.

Naomi laughed bitterly. “Because they are the cops.”

Broussard’s body language abruptly changed. His arms had been locked across his chest, but he lowered them to his desk and leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “Who?”

“Do you know a cop named John Gaffney?”

Broussard nodded, his expression giving nothing away. “I do.”

Naomi wanted to look away but forced herself to hold firm. Broussard wouldn’t respect her if she flinched. And if he didn’t respect her, he wouldn’t believe her.

Do this for Everett.

“He used to report to Captain Cresswell.” If she hadn’t been watching, she would have missed the small twitch of Broussard’s jaw. That was good. He didn’t like Cresswell. They had at least that in common. “I know you worked in Cresswell’s department for a few years. I know you…left.”

“Escaped,” Sylvi muttered, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “Some people weren’t as lucky.”

“Sylvi.” Broussard’s voice softened. “Let me listen.”

“She shouldn’t have needed to invoke the name of Gaffney or Cresswell to get you to listen,” Sylvi snapped.

Naomi laid a hand on her boss’s arm. “He only knows what the media covered. He doesn’t know the truth.”

Broussard sat back in his chair. “Then tell me the truth.”

Naomi squared her shoulders. She didn’t have anything to lose. “I was an honest cop. I worked in the evidence room.”

“Until you stole a kilo of cocaine.”

Naomi shook her head. “I never did. They hid it in my car. It was found when I stopped at a traffic accident.”

“To supposedly help a woman whose car had been wrecked.”

Naomi remembered it all in sharp detail.

“Her flashers were on and her car had been damaged. The front bumper was crushed and the driver’s-side windows were broken.

She looked so young and scared when she ran into the road, motioning me to stop.

So I stopped. I wasn’t on duty at the time, so I called it in as a hit-and-run and waited with her until the police arrived. ”

“And then?” Broussard asked.

“She’d asked to put her book bag in my back seat, because it was pouring down rain and her windows were broken.

I let her stow it back there without another thought.

The cops arrived, took her statement, then told her to get her book bag from my back seat.

That’s when she saw the evidence bag. Her exclamation was so believable.

Even I believed her for a moment. Until I realized what was happening.

It was an evidence bag full of cocaine I’d processed.

” She lifted her chin again. “I was careful , Mr.Broussard. I was meticulous , for all the years I did that job. There were two bags of cocaine confiscated in an arrest, but there was no record of the second bag being delivered to Evidence.”

“Did you take it?” he asked.

She met his gaze. “I did not.”

“And the young woman?”

“I’ll never forget her little smirk when the officer cuffed me. She was in on the frame.”

“She was questioned.”

“She was. She stuck to her story—and her prints weren’t on the bag. I didn’t see her put it there, but I don’t know how else it could have happened. The bag was stashed under the seat and the cop picked it up.”

“That was Gaffney?”

“No. That was Officer Morrell. He seemed genuinely shocked to find the drugs in my car.”

“All right,” Broussard said calmly. “Where does Gaffney come in?”

“I kept saying I was innocent. I didn’t know how the coke got into my car, only that I didn’t put it there. I got an attorney and was ready to fight it. And then I got a visit from John Gaffney. I’d been released on bail and was at home. I wish I’d had cameras.”

“You do now?” he asked.

“I sure do. Gaffney walked into my house like he owned it. Told me that I wouldn’t fight the charges. Showed me photos of my son at school.” Her voice broke. “He was only ten. Gaffney said that my son would be sent to me ‘in pieces’ if I fought the charges. To just ‘let it happen.’?”

Broussard was watching her closely. “So you said nothing in your own defense.”

“I went silent. My mother kept begging me to say something. To do something. But I was afraid. I was sure they would have followed through on the threat, Gaffney and Cresswell.”

“So you were sentenced to prison.”

She nodded, her throat tight. “Spent five years inside.”

He didn’t offer condolences and that was somehow better. This man was all business and she appreciated it.

“You got released on a technicality. How did that happen?”

“My mother never believed I was guilty. She got me a new attorney. Mortgaged her house to pay the woman.” And for that alone, Naomi would love her mother forever.

“The attorney told Mom going in that it was a long shot. She filed a request for a lab test of the evidence—the bag of cocaine I supposedly stole. My first attorney hadn’t requested it.

I think Gaffney got to him. Made him do a shoddy job.

I could see a difference between one visit and the next.

The man couldn’t meet my eyes. Changed his mind about me testifying in my own defense. ”

“But the second attorney was better.”

“The second attorney was lucky,” Naomi corrected. “The test on the coke came back as zero cocaine at all. It was ground-up Sheetrock.”

“So the stolen evidence got stolen again?” he asked.

“Maybe. I don’t know. All I know is that my second attorney filed an immediate appeal. That Cresswell was somehow involved got it pushed through.”

He tilted his head to one side. “How did Cresswell factor in?”

“He was Gaffney’s boss at the time. Captain Cresswell getting arrested got the DA to back off trying me a second time when the first conviction was overturned.

” Two and a half years before, the former NOPD captain had murdered a suspect and was now serving life.

“Anything Cresswell touched is tainted now. So, like I said, my attorney got lucky. By extension, so did I.”

Broussard laced his fingers together, resting his joined hands on his stomach. “What brings you here today?”

“I was leaving my job on Friday. I work for Sylvi.”

“I wondered,” Broussard said, glancing at Sylvi. “Hire a lot of ex-cons?”

“Only innocent ones,” Sylvi said, her glare not having faded an iota.

Broussard’s mouth kicked up into an almost-smile. “What happened on Friday, Miss Cranston?”

“Gaffney approached me as I was getting into my car. Told me I was to transport packages for them in Sylvi’s florist van because we’re making so many deliveries right now.”

“Mardi Gras parties,” he murmured.

“Exactly. I told him no. If I did something like that, I’d go back to prison. He started telling me my son’s schedule. He knew the names of his friends. He knew that Everett doesn’t come home for dinner most of the nights he’s with me.”

“Joint custody?” he asked.

“I get weekends.”

“Her son believes she’s guilty,” Sylvi inserted. “Naomi’s ex poisoned the boy’s mind. Everett hangs with his friends so he doesn’t have to come home.”

Naomi shrugged, ignoring her broken heart. “As you said, Mr.Broussard, an overturned conviction is not a declaration of innocence.”

“True enough. Why do you think they’ve targeted you, Miss Cranston?”

“I’ve racked my brain for six years, and I still don’t know. When I asked him why on Friday, all Gaffney said was that I wasn’t supposed to get out, that we had a deal but that I’d cheated them. I truly don’t know why he picked me, now or six years ago.”

“Okay. What do you plan to do?”

She opened her mouth, suddenly unsure. She’d been sure just moments before, but now the plan that had seemed so clear was…not.

“I won’t be their drug runner. Of that I’m certain. At least the last time, I knew I was innocent, despite what everyone else thought. If I do their bidding, I’ll be guilty. But if I don’t, they’ll hurt my son.”

Broussard was watching her thoughtfully, but he said nothing, so she soldiered on.

“I can’t let them touch Everett,” she said, hearing her own desperation.

“I agree. So what do you plan to do?” he asked again.

“If I refuse to take their package, they’ll plant drugs in my car like last time. And if I do take their package, they’ll eventually arrange for a routine stop and I’ll be framed again.”

“So what do you plan to do?” he asked for a third time.

Her eyes were suddenly burning. “If you can assure me that my son will be safe, I’ll take their package and anonymously report myself to the police.

I’ll…” She exhaled shakily, panic rising despite her best efforts to beat it back.

“I’ll go back to prison. I don’t want to, but I’ll do it to keep them away from Everett.

As long as Everett will be safe once I’m out of the way. ”

Sylvi leaned forward in her chair, her expression beseeching. “Please, Burke. Say that you can help her. Say that you can keep her and her son safe.” New tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please. I’ll beg you if I have to.”

“Sylvi,” Broussard said quietly. “Stop. I don’t know exactly what I can do, but I’ll look into it. And, for now, I’ll put eyes on the boy.”

Relief rushed over Naomi like a wave. “You won’t let them hurt him?”

“No, ma’am.”

“My son won’t be cooperative,” she warned.

Broussard smiled, revealing a deep dimple in one cheek. “He won’t be our first reluctant charge.”

“My ex-husband won’t be pleased.”

“I’ll deal with him, too, if need be.”

“If you tell him that I’m being targeted, he’ll apply to have my custody revoked.” Her shoulders sagged. “Although that might be safer for Everett.”

“Does he love your son?” Burke asked.

“Yes,” Naomi said, without hesitation. “He’ll want to keep Everett safe. But Jimmy hates me. He testified against me at my trial. He wanted me out of the way, too, so that he didn’t have to share custody.”

Broussard frowned. “I’ll try to make sure he understands the reality of the situation. Did you have any indication that he was involved in your arrest?”

Naomi slowly shook her head, because she’d wondered the same thing. “He cheated on me with a younger woman—who’s his new wife—and fought the reinstatement of my alimony when I was released. That is the other reason I think he testified against me. He didn’t want to have to pay alimony.”

“I see,” Broussard murmured.

“And Naomi?” Sylvi pushed. “What about her? She can’t go back to prison, Burke. They’ll kill her in there. And I’m not being dramatic. Someone nearly did kill her the first time.”

Burke lifted one hand, halting Sylvi’s argument. “I didn’t think you were being dramatic, Sylvi. I can only imagine what happens to a former cop in prison.”

It had been far worse than he could imagine.

Naomi fought the urge to touch her neck. Her scar wasn’t visible if her hair hung the right way. She didn’t want to draw attention to it. Didn’t want Burke Broussard to know.

She didn’t want his pity.

“I can pay you,” Naomi said. “I have a little money put away. I don’t know if I can afford you, but I’ll figure something out.”

“We’ll deal with that later.” He glanced at Sylvi.

“We’ll protect Miss Cranston as well. For now, I want you to go back to work and try to act as if everything is normal.

I’ll put someone on your security detail.

” He quickly checked his computer. “Val’s back in town.

I’ll assign her. She’s a frequent visitor to the flower shop, so she won’t draw too much attention. ”

Naomi had met Sylvi’s sister, Val, and trusted her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t accept any packages, and if you get one, call me immediately. Don’t even touch it, either of you.”

For the first time in six years, hope bloomed in her heart. “Do you think you can help me avoid going back to prison, Mr.Broussard?”

His gaze was serious. “I’m going to do my damnedest, ma’am.”

She shuddered as the tears finally fell. “Thank you.”