Page 49 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

“I’ll ask André to accompany us.” Burke went to Molly’s whiteboard and flipped it from their to-do list back to the side with photos, names, and questions. “We can take these photos with us, to see if she knows any of the players other than the Delgado brothers.”

“But first, coffee,” Val announced. “Except there’s no cream on the tray. I’ll go down and get it.”

“I brought it,” Everett said from the doorway. “I saw you forgot this, Grandma.” He held a carton out to Ruthanne, who gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Ev. That was sweet of you to bring it up.”

Shrugging, Everett looked around the room curiously. Then he froze for a moment before hurrying to the whiteboard. “Why do you have that picture of Winnie?” he demanded, pointing at Winnifred Timms.

Naomi stiffened. “She was the woman driving the SUV when Pablo Delgado tried to abduct you. Why? Have you seen her?”

The boy turned to stare at his mother, confused. “She’s McKenzie’s best friend. She comes to the house all the time. She tried to take me? No way. Why would she do that?” He shook his head. “No way would Winnie do that. You’re either lying or you’re wrong. But, either way, that’s not true.”

Burke wanted to answer but gave Naomi time to gather her thoughts. She should be the one to tell her son the truth. And if the kid got an attitude, Burke would step in.

“Wow.” Naomi lifted a trembling hand to her hair, pushing it behind her ear before changing her mind and pulling it to cover the scar on her neck, even though it was already hidden by the collar of the turtleneck sweater she wore.

“Um,” she started again. “There’s a possibility that Gaffney, the detective who threatened us—you and me—is involved in sex trafficking.”

Everett blanched. “ That’s why they wanted me? Oh my God. And Jace? And Harper? She’s only ten years old. That’s sick. But if you say that Winnie is part of that, then you’re wrong. There’s no way.”

Naomi exhaled. “You know that last night we witnessed a woman get murdered, right in front of us.”

Everett was already shaking his head, the rest of the color draining from his face. “No. You’re wrong.”

“Everett,” Naomi said gently. “Winnifred Timms is dead. She was identified as the woman who fraudulently opened three bank accounts in my name. When her involvement was exposed, she tried to escape. She was in the airport long-term parking garage. Whoever killed her did so to keep her from talking.”

Everett looked at Burke in desperation.

Burke nodded, saying nothing.

“She’s right,” Antoine said from Burke’s desk. “I saw it all. I recorded it all, but I’m not going to show it to you.”

Everett was still shaking his head. “The news would have been online.”

“It was,” Naomi told him. “Just not her name. Not yet. The police generally withhold the names of victims until their family can be notified.”

“The news story is online now,” Antoine said. “No gory video, just her driver’s license photo. Go ahead and look, Everett.”

Everett was already searching. “Oh my God. It’s true. She’s dead.”

“It is true,” Naomi agreed solemnly. “And her death—along with the trafficking she was involved in—is what Burke and his team are investigating.”

“Your mother, too,” Burke added, needing Everett to be aware that his mother was a team member as well. “She’s far more than a glorified UberEats driver, Everett.”

But Burke wasn’t sure that Everett had even heard him. The boy was stunned. Shocked.

But Naomi’s small smile was grateful. “Thank you, Burke.” The small smile dimmed as she turned back to her son. “You might as well know it all now. Antoine also believes your father might have been paid to testify against me in my trial.”

Shaken, Everett stared at his mother. “He wouldn’t do that. You’re lying.” He turned to Antoine. “You’re lying.”

“I could be wrong,” Antoine said. “But we found evidence that one of the men who framed your mother made a payment that was close to the amount your father owed on his mortgage. That payment was made shortly after the trial and the day before the mortgage was paid off. It could be a coincidence.”

Everett stood there, motionless, a complex wave of emotions washing over his face. The room remained silent as the boy processed what he’d heard.

Finally, Everett exhaled. “Dad had a party a few days after Naomi went to prison. Told his friends that he was celebrating because he’d paid off the mortgage with some winnings at the track.”

“Lots of people winning money at the track,” Burke murmured, thinking that Everett was, once again, shoring up the emotional walls he’d built by calling his mother by her first name.

Naomi never even flinched. Burke found he had to take a deep breath to keep his voice calm because he wanted to yell at this boy.

But Everett was a sixteen-year-old kid who’d been lied to and, in his own teenage mind, abandoned by a mother who’d gone to prison because she’d been so greedy that she’d stolen drugs she should have been safeguarding.

So Burke kept his voice level. “Did you believe him?”

Everett nodded. “I mean, he’s my dad, and he wasn’t the one who went on trial.

So, yes, I believed him.” He hesitated, then looked away.

“But I don’t think his friends did. One of them said that Dad had killed two birds with one stone—he’d gotten rid of his mortgage and his alimony with one incredible deal. ”

“What did your father do?” Burke asked.

“He got super angry. Got in the guy’s face. The guy backed down.”

“Do you remember who that was?” Naomi asked, her tone patient and encouraging. Loving. And yet so very sad.

Burke didn’t know how she could pack so many emotions into so few words.

“It was Mr.Miller.” Everett glanced at Burke. “He’s my dad’s best friend.”

“We’ll have a conversation with him,” Burke said. “Thank you, Everett.”

Everett nodded uncertainly. “Don’t tell him it was me who said anything. His son is one of my friends.”

“We’ll be discreet,” Burke promised. But he would find out. If Winnifred Timms was McKenzie Haywood’s friend, that might mean that husband and wife had been actively working with Gaffney all this time.

That Naomi’s ex was in on the frame from the beginning.

He couldn’t fathom the betrayal.

Burke put his arm around her shoulders, ignoring the narrowed eyes of her son. “Jimmy might not be guilty of anything, Naomi.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, accepting the comfort he offered. “I don’t believe in coincidences any more than you do.”

—

Tulane-Gravier, New Orleans, Louisiana

Wednesday, February 26, 3:00 p.m.

“You can only have five minutes,” the nurse said as she led Naomi and Burke to the ICU room in which Susan Snyder was recovering.

André and Val brought up the rear, André having coordinated the interview and Val insisting that Burke and Naomi needed protection, given the shooting the night before.

That they should have taken a bodyguard to the Cresswells’ house.

It was fair, Naomi thought.

You’ve been living on borrowed time for years. I think your time is up.

Someone wanted both her and Burke dead. So she’d gratefully accepted Val’s insistence that she join them. With a sigh, Burke had agreed.

“We had some…excitement right before you arrived,” André said, his voice a quiet rumble, pitched so that only they could hear. “A woman posing as a nurse tried to get into Susan’s room. The officer at her door turned the woman away.”

Burke paused to stare at André, making them all stop. “Did you ID her?”

“She’s the woman your friend saw leaving the Delgados’ house,” André said. “The one dressed in scrubs. She had on a dark wig today, but the cop at the door saw her face and ID’d her from the photo you sent me, Burke. We don’t yet have a name.”

“Did you arrest her?” Naomi asked.

“No. The cop at Susan’s door was calling it in when the woman ran to one of the stairwells. He didn’t want to leave his post, in case it was a diversion, so he stayed put and called hospital security. But the woman had disappeared before they could lock the hospital down.”

This wasn’t good, but there was something more that André wasn’t saying.

“But?” Naomi asked. “What’s wrong, other than the woman is at large?”

“The officer who made the call was a last-minute replacement on my part. The cop who’d been on duty had been the subject of rumors.

Like, he spent too much money for what he earned.

I erred on the side of caution and made a schedule adjustment.

I’m glad I was right, but now I’ve got another compromised officer to deal with. ”

“You may have saved Susan’s life,” Val murmured. “Did you recognize the intruder?” she asked the nurse.

The nurse, whose name was Shannon, shook her head.

“I’ve not seen her before. We’ve kept tight control over Susan’s room and her treatment.

I don’t know what the woman had planned.

One of our nurses confronted her as she entered the floor because she didn’t recognize her.

” The woman’s lips pressed together grimly.

“We found our nurse unconscious in one of the unoccupied rooms, but that wasn’t until after the intruder had disappeared.

The woman hit her with something blunt and then injected her with an opioid.

We don’t know which one yet. Our nurse will be all right because we got to her in time. Had to use Narcan to revive her.”

“We think the intruder was planning to kill Susan the same way,” André said.

“Has anyone else tried to get in before today?” Burke asked.

Again, Nurse Shannon shook her head. “But Susan’s only been awake for a few days and only able to talk since this morning.

We didn’t even know her name before Monday.

She was a Jane Doe until we used an alphabet card to find out her name.

But we all knew what she’d been through and none of us were going to let her get hurt again on our watch. ”