Page 30 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

Being right felt good. “The second girl, the sixteen-year-old who’s ‘coming around’ from the induced coma.

I’m thinking that, despite being intubated, she was at least able to identify the pimp from the sketch or from whatever photo you took of his dead body, which is why you’re certain you have the right man. ”

Holmes shook his head in mild bewilderment.

“Did she ID him, André?” Burke asked.

“She did. She’ll stay in protective custody until she’s fully recovered, and then we’ll figure out what to do with her. She has no family. She was another foster kid, also grew up in Baton Rouge.”

“Does the dead man have a name?” Burke asked.

Holmes hesitated, then shook his head. “Not gonna give you that.”

“Did the dead guy have a brother?” Naomi asked quietly.

Holmes sighed. “I’m not telling you that information. I will only tell you that the man who attempted to kidnap Harper and Jace is being searched for. I promise you that.”

“Jace and Harper didn’t see his face, Captain,” Naomi said, suddenly furious.

“If they come upon him again, they’ll be unaware.

Lambs to slaughter, and that is not hyperbole.

These people were selling children for sex.

My son is sixteen. Jace is seventeen. Harper is only ten.

” She was building up steam and she let the angry words flow.

“You owe it to Burke and his people to give them not only the man’s name but his description, because I’m sure that you have it now. What is his name?”

Burke leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach, his expression one of approval. “You go, girl. Let him have it.”

“Burke!” Holmes snapped.

“She’s right, André.”

Naomi stood, her body shaking with rage.

“You let me be thrown in prison. Not you personally, Captain Holmes, but NOPD failed me. Your dirty cops stole five years of my life. They terrorized me through my son. But I didn’t fight because Everett was safe.

Until he wasn’t. That dead man who you will not name put his hands on my son.

If it hadn’t been for Harrison Banks, Everett would be taken and God only knows what would be happening to him.

It was not okay when you hung me out to dry, but it is inexcusable when our children are targeted.

I don’t want empty promises that you’ll ‘investigate Gaffney.’ I don’t want promises that you’re looking for the man who put his hands on Jace and Harper because, quite frankly, I do not trust the NOPD to do their job.

Gaffney is in this up to his eyeballs and he is one of yours. ”

“Not mine,” Holmes said quietly.

It was like his words lit her on fire, and she leaned into him, getting in his space.

“I don’t care!” she shouted. “He is NOPD and he has been allowed to terrorize innocent people without consequences for years. NOPD obviously won’t take care of this, so give his name to Burke and let him take care of it.

” She slowly straightened, aware that she’d been screaming into the face of an NOPD captain.

But she didn’t regret a single word. “You don’t have to tell me his name.

I’ll leave the room. But if you want to make things better, just give Burke his name and let him do your job.

” She looked at Burke, who was staring at her.

“I’m sorry I shouted. But not for what I said. ”

Burke barked out a laugh. “Darlin’, you can shout anytime you please. Because you are one hundred percent right. You’ve done your part. Go and get some coffee.”

“She doesn’t need any more caffeine,” Holmes grumbled.

Burke laughed again. “Relax, Naomi. Put your feet up, let your heart rate come back down. Maybe knit some knockers. I won’t let you down.”

She nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

She was halfway out the door when she heard Holmes ask, “Knit some knockers? What the hell, Burke?”

She closed the door and ran right into Antoine, who’d been unashamedly listening at the study door. He was grinning ear to ear. “Oh my God. That was epic.”

Now that it was over, her adrenaline crashed, and she sagged against the door. “He made me angry.”

“He makes me angry every day, but he really is a good man. He’ll do the right thing. Especially after you pointed it out so very clearly.” He took her arm gently. “Come on. Let me help you downstairs. You look shaky.”

“I am shaky. Will he give Burke the man’s name?”

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t.”

“Why?” Then she understood. “You’ve figured it out on your own.”

Antoine nodded with satisfaction. “I was coming to tell Burke that my facial recognition software finally pulled a name on the guy, who we now know is dead. From there I got his brother’s name.

Two-bit punks who were part of the STs—one of the local gangs—before they were apparently recruited by Gaffney.

But just as I was about to knock on the door, what should I hear?

The dulcet tones of Miss Naomi Cranston dragging my brother to a come-to-Jesus meeting. It was awesome.”

Val was standing guard near the front door. “What’s this about Naomi dragging André somewhere?”

They had the attention of the whole room. Antoine led her to the settee and lowered her into it. “Get her a glass of something sweet. Orange juice if we have it.”

“On it,” Jace called, and a moment later the teenager was pressing a cold glass of juice in her hand. “Drink it, Miss Naomi. You look pale.”

She obeyed. “Thank you, Jace.”

“What happened?” Everett demanded. “Why do you look like that?”

Antoine chortled. “Sit down, boys and girls. I have a story to tell you.”

Naomi’s gaze flew to his. “Not all of it.”

Antoine nodded at her kindly. “I’ll keep it PG.”

And he did, skipping the part about the sex trafficking victims, focusing instead on the dead kidnapper and the demand for the brother’s name. When he was finished, her mother and James wore huge smiles of approval, and Val came over to give her a hard hug.

Kaj, who’d arrived at some point while she’d been upstairs, held his fist out for her to bump. “Nicely done, Naomi. Burke should add you to his payroll.”

“Um, no,” Val said. “Not that you wouldn’t be welcome, Naomi. You’d be amazing here, but Sylvi will cut you, Kaj, if you make her lose her employee.”

Naomi shook her head. “You’re all ridiculous.”

Antoine sat beside her. “Now, I have to know. Why did Burke tell you to knit some knockers?”

She chuckled and told them about her project. Elijah looked at her with tears in his eyes.

“My mom died of cancer,” Elijah said. “Not breast cancer, but still. Is that something a kid could do? Like me?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “I’ll teach you how.”

Kaj squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you,” he murmured.

And then she looked up at Everett, who looked…unsettled. Of course he was. The man who’d nearly kidnapped him had been shot in the head. Everett had never been exposed to death. This had to be difficult for him. “Are you all right?” she asked her son.

“Yeah,” he said shortly. “I’m going to my room for a while.”

He went up the stairs, Lucien trailing him because Harrison was sleeping.

At least he hadn’t yelled at her or ridiculed her. Progress.

“He’ll come around,” Jace said. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy. Just mixed up.”

Naomi’s eyes burned. “Thank you, honey.”

“Can I get you anything else? More juice?”

“Coffee?” she asked hopefully.

Antoine laughed. “I’ll get it,” he said, getting up from the settee. “I think Kaj wants to talk to you.”

Kaj Cardozo took Antoine’s seat. “My boss is going to talk to Cresswell today. He doesn’t anticipate getting any answers. He says you can join him, if you wish.”

Naomi’s eyes widened. “Really?”

He nodded. “He’s hoping seeing you will make Cresswell surprised enough to say something. The chance is very small. Almost infinitesimal, but if you’re willing to go back to prison as a visitor, you may attend.”

She sucked in a breath. “Oh. When will this be?”

“This afternoon. He’s setting it up now and will let you know the time. If you decide not to join him, you can email me your questions and I’ll make sure he gets them.”

Once again, Naomi’s eyes burned. “You convinced him to include me.”

Kaj lifted a shoulder. “I advocated for you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“It’s about time the system worked for you.”

She blinked and let the tears fall. “Yesterday morning, I had no hope. But today…” She wiped at her eyes. “I have Sylvi to thank.”

“I think she’s your strongest advocate. We’ll do our best for you, Naomi.”

She closed her eyes, overcome. “Thank you.”

—

The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

Tuesday, February 25, 9:55 a.m.

Burke waited until Naomi had closed the door before turning to André. “Well?”

She had been amazing. Absolutely stunning. Watching her get all up in André’s face like that had lit something within him.

He hadn’t realized that strong women were such a turn-on, but she was.

And she’d been right. About nearly everything. Especially about trusting the NOPD to do their job. As good a man as André was, he couldn’t force the entire police department to behave with the same honor that he did.

“Tell me his name, André.”

“Dammit, Burke.”

“She’s right. Somebody is shielding Gaffney. No way he’s so clean that nothing sticks to him.”

“I know,” André said quietly. “If I give you the kidnapper’s name, what will you do with it?”

“Track him.”

“And when you find him?”

“We’ll hold him and call you.”

“How hard will you hold him?”

“As hard as we need to. And if we shoot, it’ll be to wound. Unless he’s shooting back.”

André closed his eyes. “You suck.”

Burke chuckled. “Just tell me. You know you’re gonna.”

André opened one eye. “You like her.”

Burke flinched. “Of course I do. She’s my client.”

André slowly grinned, both eyes going wide and sparkling with unholy glee. “You’re normally a better liar.”

André was right about that. About Naomi, too, but Burke wasn’t going there. “Don’t be trying to distract me. Tell me the bastard’s name.”

André sighed. “Ernesto Delgado. His dead brother is Pablo.”