Page 9 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

Kenner, Louisiana

Naomi watched as Val set her phone aside, looking troubled. “What’s wrong?”

“Not Everett,” Val said, then pursed her lips as if she was considering her next words, which made Naomi’s panic inch back up.

“We don’t have time for niceties, Val. Plus, they’re not good for my blood pressure.”

“Sorry. Personal question time. Why did you and Jimmy divorce?”

Naomi dropped her gaze to the pile of thorns she’d removed from the rose stems. “Couple of reasons. He wanted me to quit my job. I kept saying no, that it was important to me. He belittled what I did.”

“Working in the evidence room?”

“Yeah. It’s been my assignment ever since I came back from maternity leave after having Everett.”

“Did you want that job?” Val asked carefully.

“Not really. I wanted to go back on patrol, but every time I tried to get a transfer, I got blocked. One of my supervisors told me that it was because they knew I’d be having more babies. To just do my job or quit. So I did the best damn evidence processing in the NOPD.”

Val squared her shoulders. “Did Jimmy abuse you?”

Naomi’s breath caught in her throat. “Why?”

“Burke wants to know. And now, so do I.”

Naomi brushed the pile of thorns into a bucket to be dumped into the composter. “I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘abuse.’?”

“Naomi. You know you can talk to me. If there’s something you don’t want the others to know, we can hold it back—unless it’s going to put you in danger.”

“Why does Mr.Broussard want to know?”

“Why don’t you call him Burke?”

Naomi winced. “Old habits, maybe. He’s in charge. So are Miss Sutton and Mr.Farrow. I think you’re the only one I can call by her first name, and that’s only because I knew you through Sylvi before this.”

“Prison behavior?”

“Yeah. Lots of ‘Miss’ and ‘Mister.’ I didn’t call Sylvi by her first name until I’d worked here for six months.”

“I get that. I remember coming home from the military. Becoming a civilian again was like…being upside down. So, what did Jimmy do?”

Naomi sighed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to distract you. It was mostly just emotional abuse, tearing me down.”

“There’s no ‘just.’ That’s still abuse. Did he hit you?”

“Yeah. Twice. The first time, he was so sorry. He’d had a bad day at work and Everett had colic and had screamed all night long. I let it go, but it was always there, in the back of my mind. I was always waiting for his hand to slap me again.”

“Yes, I know,” Val said softly.

Naomi shot her a startled look. “You?”

“Not by a partner, but I know what you mean. What happened the second time he hit you?”

Naomi pushed her curiosity aside. Val’s pain wasn’t her business. Her bodyguard was asking about Naomi’s pain so that she could protect her.

“The second time was after we’d gotten into a terrible fight. Everett was eight years old and Jimmy wanted another baby. I didn’t. I’d had Everett when I was twenty and—” She shook her head. “I love my son, Val.”

“Never doubted it. But you weren’t ready for a baby at twenty?”

“I wasn’t. When I first started with the NOPD, I figured I’d work for ten years, maybe make detective, before I had a baby. But then…boom. I was pregnant.”

“You weren’t expecting to be expecting?”

“I wasn’t. I was stunned. We were using condoms and I was on birth control pills. Which only work when they haven’t been tampered with.”

Val’s eyes widened. “Jimmy messed with your birth control?”

“He did. I didn’t know until we had that big fight about a second baby.

It wasn’t the first time that we’d disagreed, but it was the first time that Jimmy raised his hand to me again.

He didn’t actually hit me, but I said that him even thinking about slapping me was enough reason not to have a second child.

I figured Jimmy would sulk and pout like he always did and then he’d drop it.

But three nights later I found him with my birth control packet.

He was switching it out for another packet that looked just like mine.

I remember just staring at him. Then I grabbed both packets from his hand, and that’s when he hit me. ”

Val closed her eyes. “My God.”

“Everything clicked for me then. I remember when I got pregnant with Everett, I was so worried because I was on the pill at the time. My doctor said I was probably okay, but he’d monitor me and the baby for any ill effects.

Jimmy wasn’t worried at all, and he’s a worrier.

He told me that we’d been blessed with a baby and that God would make it all okay. ”

“You realized his calm was unusual.”

“Yeah. I was standing there holding two packets of pills and crying because he’d hit me so hard my head slammed into a wall.

I straight-out asked him if he’d done this before.

He started to deny it but then admitted it.

He didn’t want to wait ten years for a baby, even though that’s what we’d agreed on when we were dating.

He admitted to switching my pills and poking holes in the condoms we used.

” She exhaled. “I moved out that night. Took Everett to my mother’s house.

Our divorce was finalized a year later.”

“Asshole,” Val muttered. “How much of that can I tell Burke?”

Naomi massaged her temples, suddenly very tired. “Tell him all of it, if you want. It doesn’t really matter now. Did Jimmy threaten him?”

“Burke?” Val laughed. “No. Very few people threaten Burke Broussard.”

Naomi thought about the man—all six foot five of him. His shoulders were so broad, his biceps bulging under the polo shirt he’d been wearing that morning. “He is physically intimidating.”

“But a marshmallow inside. I think Jimmy wanted to threaten Burke but didn’t have the guts. Did you tell your father-in-law what Jimmy did to you?”

“My mother did. I got to her house that night and burst into tears. Everett was crying, too. Mom took a photo of my face because my cheek was already bruising. She took a photo of the side of my head the next day because I had a big goose egg. My mother is a rock. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

Once I’d gotten Everett to sleep, Mom gave me the third degree and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I told her everything.

I didn’t want her to tell James. He was an amazing father-in-law.

He was always there when I needed him and we couldn’t reach Jimmy.

Like when Everett had a fever of a hundred and three and I was panicking.

James was so calm and took care of us. I really cared about him and didn’t want him to know about Jimmy’s abuse.

I didn’t want to hurt him. But my mother told him—at least about the hitting part.

I don’t think he knows about the birth control part. I don’t want Everett to know.”

“I understand. I’ll be careful with the information.”

“Thank you.” She turned away when her eyes burned. She was not going to cry. She’d cried enough already. “I’m going to make a fresh pot of coffee. Would you care for some?”

“Sure,” Val said kindly. “Is your coffee better than Sylvi’s? Hers is like crayon water. So weak it’s barely drinkable.”

Naomi laughed roughly. “It really is awful. Mine is strong.”

“Then you’re my hero. Don’t tell Sylvi.”

“Tell Sylvi what?” Sylvi asked, leaning against the doorframe. From the look on her face, she’d heard most of what Naomi had shared.

Naomi didn’t really mind. She had very few secrets from Sylvi. Especially since the woman had found her with a Glock in her hands, contemplating the unthinkable. Few secrets were worse than that.

“That I’m making coffee,” Naomi said.

Sylvi groaned. “I’m going to have to water it down by half, at least.”

“I’ll also make you a pot the way you like it,” Naomi promised. “And then I’ll do the afternoon deliveries.”

“ We’ll do the afternoon deliveries,” Val corrected.

“I’ve got Phin coming to keep you company, Sylvi, in case Gaffney comes by.

Phin says he’ll fix that leaky faucet while he’s here.

He’s Burke’s handyman,” she explained to Naomi.

“But he takes care of all our personal home repairs. He used to work for Burke full-time as his night security, but he got his contractor’s license and started his own business.

He still does night security for Burke occasionally.

If you see him around, don’t be alarmed. He’s a big marshmallow, too.”

“And Mr.Farrow?” Naomi asked. “Is he also a marshmallow?”

Val sighed. “I think something’s going on with him, but I don’t know what. No excuse for his being rude, though.”

“I wanted to smack him,” Sylvi said.

“You would have needed a step stool,” Val teased.

Sylvi gave her a dirty look, started to say something back, then just shook her head when the front doorbell jingled. “Gotta go.”

“I meant that about Lucien,” Val said seriously. “He had no excuse to be rude. Burke will find out what’s what. He’s going with Lucien to talk to your first attorney.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel much better.”

There had been something about the big, burly Cajun that had made her feel…secure.

Seen.

Safe.

—

Carrollton, New Orleans, Louisiana

Monday, February 24, 1:45 p.m.

James Haywood Sr. sat behind his desk, horrified as he listened to Burke describe the threat to his grandson.

When Burke was finished, the older man looked ill. “My son said no?”

“Yes, sir. He didn’t believe the threat was real.”

“But you do.”

“I do.”

“I know who you are, Mr.Broussard. You worked for a friend of mine nearly five years ago. He was one of your first clients when you started your firm. I called him after Rosemary called me. He said to believe you.”

“Do you?”

“I do. I never thought Naomi was guilty. I should have done more when she was accused. I offered to testify on her behalf, to be a character witness, but her attorney said I wasn’t needed. And then he basically sat there and said nothing during the whole trial.”

“Were you there?”