Page 63 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

The Central Business District, New Orleans, Louisiana

“Burke,” Val said when they’d stopped outside the coffee shop, “I should go in with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Burke insisted. “See, Kaleb is here already, just like he said he’d be.”

There were two cups of coffee and a plate of breakfast sandwiches on the table where Kaleb sat. The place wasn’t crowded yet. In an hour there would be a line around the corner.

“Fine. Just hurry. I don’t like you being out in the open.”

This has to end , Burke thought. By threatening their children, Gaffney and his boss had skillfully set them up to be the victims. Well, that and shooting at him and Naomi.

But at least he and his team now had a plan. If Antoine could discover the identity of the man with fancy shoes, they’d be a step closer to whoever had organized all of this.

They’d be a step closer to saving the teenagers who thought no one would miss them.

But now, he was going to take a moment for himself. A moment to reconnect with the man who was his brother in all but blood.

Kaleb wore a suit like he always did, but today he wore a hat. A fedora that covered his face. And sunglasses inside. In any other city, this would make people wonder. In New Orleans, during Mardi Gras, everyone just assumed he was another businessman with a hangover.

Burke hoped Kaleb wasn’t hungover. He hated when Kaleb drank because he reminded Burke too much of his own father. Of the hitting and the yelling.

Kaleb had given up booze years ago. Burke hoped that he hadn’t fallen off the wagon. But it would make sense given the cheating.

“Kaleb.”

“Burke. Thank you for coming.”

“You knew I would.”

“Yes, I knew you would. Please. Sit down.”

They sat down and Burke reached for the coffee at his place. “For me?”

“Yes. Light and sweet, just as you like it.”

Burke took a sip and exhaled. It was exactly as he liked it. The coffee in the travel mug was fuel to make his body move. This was pure enjoyment.

“I’m sorry, Burke.”

Burke wished that he could see Kaleb’s eyes. “For?”

“For overreacting on Monday. I said some terrible things that I really didn’t mean. It isn’t your fault that the boys were targeted.”

“I don’t know. Someone was trying to hurt me by hurting them. We think we’re close to neutralizing the threat, though. Hopefully the boys can go back to school when the break is over and never have to worry about danger again.”

“You’re close, then?”

“I think so, yes.” He finished the coffee and set the cup aside and decided to confront the issue head-on. “I talked to Juliette yesterday.”

“I know. She told me.”

Burke tried not to seem judgmental. “Juliette thinks you’re cheating on her.”

“Because I was. I ended it. I don’t even know what happened to me. That’s not who I am.”

“I know it’s not. What did Juliette say when you told her that it was over with the other woman?”

“We’re going to couples counseling. She’s not sure she wants to save our marriage and, right now, I can’t blame her. I…fucked up, but I’m trying to make it right. I told the woman that it was over. When we were in Chicago. I broke it off.”

Chicago. Burke went still because Kaleb hadn’t gone to Chicago. Not according to Antoine.

Maybe Antoine had been wrong.

But he rarely was.

“I’m glad you ended it,” Burke said, wary now and not liking the sensation. This was Kaleb. His oldest friend. His only remaining family. “You asked me to help you. What can I do?”

“You’re helping just by being here. Can we talk about the company?”

“I can do more. I never meant to dump it all in your lap.”

“Well, you did dump it all in my lap,” Kaleb said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Or my father’s lap, I guess. He liked it, the fast pace. Making all the decisions.”

“You don’t?”

“I like parts of it. But I think I resent you taking home such a huge paycheck when you do none of the work.”

Burke couldn’t control his flinch. Because…wow. Kaleb took home a much greater percentage of the profits than Burke did. Now Kaleb wanted more?

“Okay. What part of the business do you want me to take on?”

Kaleb’s brows lifted above the sunglasses he still wore. “I mean, what are you qualified to do?”

The sneer on Kaleb’s face hurt. A lot. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you’re not a scientist or an engineer.

” His words dripped with acid, each one burning Burke’s heart.

“You’re not a businessman. You don’t seem to understand that you should be charging people for your services, not giving them away to every beggar with a sad story.

God only knows what would become of your firm if you didn’t have Joy.

She manages everything for you. You’re not an accountant or a salesman.

You don’t know much about computers, which is why you hired Antoine.

I suppose you could drive a delivery truck.

” For some reason that made Kaleb smile, but it was a cold and vicious thing.

“Or be our night security. You know, a rent-a-cop.”

Burke sat back, unsure of what to say to the vitriol coming from Kaleb’s mouth. “How long have you…” He shook his head, disoriented. “How long have you resented me?”

“I think the better word is ‘hate,’ Burke. How long have I hated you? A very long time. Maybe always. Definitely since I turned eighteen and was told I had to follow in my father’s footsteps.

My life was already planned. But not yours.

You got to do whatever the hell you wanted.

You had a house, a company, and a fortune handed to you on a silver platter.

You did nothing to earn any of it. You would have nothing were it not for me. ”

“Were it not for your father,” Burke corrected, because that point seemed important even as Kaleb’s words stabbed like knives.

He wanted to strike back, to set the record straight.

“Your father and my uncle built the company together. Your father grew it after my uncle died. You’ve maintained it since his death, but you haven’t grown anything.

” He blinked hard when a wave of…something washed over him. The room was spinning. “Shit.”

Maybe the coffee had been too sweet.

He reached for one of the breakfast sandwiches on the plate between them, but Kaleb pulled it away.

Everything went wavy, and Burke blinked again. “Was that not for me?”

“No.” Kaleb lowered his glasses enough to peer at Burke over the rims. His eyes were so very cold. “No food for you. I don’t want anything in your stomach. Slows down the reaction.”

Reaction? Another wave of dizziness hit him and this one went on and on. Something is wrong. Get help.

Burke went for the phone in his pocket, but Kaleb reached across the table and gripped Burke’s wrists. Hard. But no one watching them would see that. They’d only see two men holding hands.

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

Burke tried to free his hands, but his arms weren’t working right. He tugged, but weakly.

Weak as a kitten.

His gaze dropped to the empty cup, then flicked up to meet Kaleb’s cold eyes as realization dawned. “You drugged me.”

“I did. Easier that way. So many drunks on the street. You’ll just be one more.”

He had to focus on forming the word on his lips. “Why?”

But his head was getting heavy and his chin dropped to his chest. Shit, shit, shit.

“Is the Sorensen woman taken care of?” Kaleb asked quietly, and Burke tried to lift his head, tried to ask what and how and why, why, why .

“Yes, sir,” another man said. “She won’t be waking up.”

He’d killed her? The man had killed Val?

Val. Oh my God. Val. His heart was pumping but not fast. It was slow and plodding, like it was moving through molasses.

“Why?” he managed, but it came out slurred. Unintelligible.

And then he saw the shoes. The man who’d killed Val had come closer. All Burke could see was his feet.

Feet that wore fancy brown leather loafers. Handmade.

No, no, no.

It came together like a clashing of cymbals. The man’s shoes. The fedora—just like in the footage of the two men entering the Delgados’ house.

But…Kaleb? No. It couldn’t be.

Kaleb was the boss of a sex trafficking ring? Kaleb?

He stared at his old friend in disbelief. This could not be true.

“No,” he tried to whisper, but it sounded like a moan. His heart broke in two.

How could it be true?

Kaleb’s labored sigh was followed by words that were spoken loudly. “You could never hold your liquor. You’re drunk as a damn skunk. Dammit, man, aren’t you ever ashamed? Help me get him to the car. We’ll take him home and sober him up.”

And then two sets of arms gripped him firmly, hoisting him to his feet.

“He weighs a frickin’ ton,” the man with the shoes muttered as he reached into Burke’s pocket for his cell phone.

They propped his arms on both their shoulders and began dragging him to the door.

No, no, no. He thought he said the words aloud, but no one stepped in. The few gazes he met looked away, but not before he could see their disgust.

The other patrons thought him drunk at seven a.m.

He saw his cell phone fall to the street, tossed there by the man with the shoes. A moment later, he was thrust into the back seat of a black SUV that was parked at the curb.

Kaleb.

This has to be a nightmare. He’d wake up soon and have his arms full of Naomi.

But he didn’t wake up. He just got sleepier.

“Where is the Sorensen woman?” Kaleb asked as Burke fell over to his side. He couldn’t sit up. And then he was on the floorboard, Kaleb’s hands rough as he pushed him down.

The SUV pulled away from the curb, the man with the shoes at the wheel. In the back seat, Kaleb patted Burke down, removing his gun from its shoulder holster. His backup gun from his ankle. The tool kit from his pants pocket.

He winced as his wrists were bound with flex-cuffs.

Kaleb had come prepared.

Kaleb was a criminal. A trafficker. A killer.

No. This can’t be happening.

But it was.