Saria was outside waiting when the sheriff's car pulled up. She rushed to the door, yanking it open. "What happened to you?" Saria demanded, her voice filled with concern.
Bijou blinked back unexpected tears she hadn't known were so close. Clearly her emotions were far rawer than she'd realized. She attempted a small smile. "Remy pushed me into the bayou."
Saria glared at her brother. Remy backed up a step and held up both hands in surrender.
"She went swimmin' on her own. She must have gotten all hot and bothered thinkin' about me," Remy said hastily.
Bijou rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that was it. I'm sorry about the room, Saria."
"My brother can be sorry about the room, not you," Saria said, shooting another glare at Remy.
"What happened to the room?" Gage asked with a deliberate drawl.
Bijou felt color creeping up her neck and throat. "I have to get ready for my performance tonight, Saria. I'll scrub the shower when I get back. Do you have a trash bag so I can throw away these clothes?"
"Go away, Gage," Remy ordered. "And I mean right now."
"Thanks for taking Arnaud to his hotel," Bijou said as she turned to enter the Inn.
"No problem, although I think he stank more than you do," Gage replied with a wink.
"He was underwater a lot longer. He was trapped, and I had to cut him loose," Bijou admitted. "We were lucky neither of us drowned."
Remy frowned at her. "What do you mean you nearly drowned? What the hell happened? I thought you bailed when the SUV went over the bank."
Saria looked horrified. "Bijou, how awful. I'll make some tea. You take a shower and I'll have it ready for you."
"Answer me," Remy insisted, catching Bijou's arm before she could step inside.
No one had moved. Bijou took a deep breath. Reliving it only made the entire episode worse. "Our ropes were cut first, leaving us trapped on that very tiny ledge. Then the SUV was pushed over the bank, nearly on top of us. We waited a long time, hours really, before Arnaud insisted he climb out and then get me up. He tried three times, and the bank kept crumblin'. He waited between each climb because I was pretty freaked out, afraid he'd be killed, but night was fallin' and he felt we had no choice."
Bijou lifted her gaze to Remy's face. He was absolutely still. His face could have been one of Arnaud's sculptures, so utterly without expression, frozen. Her heart did a funny little flip and a million butterflies took flight in her stomach. She looked away.
"He finally used a tree root to tie off just in case he fell again and it would save him from going into the bayou. Unfortunately, what neither of us knew was that the tree above us had been hit by the SUV when it went over and was already unstable. To make a long story short, the tree went, takin' Arnaud with it. I followed him in just in case and it was a good thing I did."
"Did it occur to you at any time," Remy asked, "that an alligator most likely was in that water?"
"Of course. I was scared, if that's what you want to hear." She couldn't help the belligerence creeping into her tone. "Don' tell me you wouldn't have gone in after him, because I know you would have."
"That's not the same," Remy snapped.
Deliberately, Saria stepped between them. "What happened, Bijou?"
Grateful for Saria's presence, Bijou focused on her. "The tree rolled, and he couldn't get out of the rope and harness so it took him with it. I cut him free but he was still trapped. His hikin' boot was wedged in the crook of the branch. I had to cut him out of that as well. I didn't think either of us was goin' to make it out of there alive."
"Thank God you were there," Saria said, casting a warning glance at her brothers when both moved as if to protest. "Arnaud would be dead if you hadn't gone in after him. I'll get the tea made, you take a shower and we'll disinfect those scratches on your arm before you have to go to work."
"Thanks, Saria," Bijou said. She hurried into the house before either of the Boudreaux brothers could say another word to her.
Bijou stripped the moment she was safe in her bathroom, tossing her ruined clothes onto a plastic bag she found inside the trash can. It was small, but it worked. The hot water felt wonderful and she let it pour over her head as she worked the long, thick braid loose so she could wash her hair.
"You know you could have been killed."
She screamed and threw the bottle of shower gel at the intruder, nearly jumping out of her skin. So much for her early warning system. "I locked the door. How did you get in here?"
Remy shrugged. "You didn't lock your balcony door, and in any case I'm very good at pickin' locks."
"Get out of here."
"We need to talk," Remy said, resting one hip on the sink.
"We should have talked this morning, you cretin. Not now. Get out of my room right this minute. I'm naked."
"It's a little late to suddenly become modest, don't you think?"
"It really isn't a good idea for you to be remindin' me about last night," Bijou snapped. "Get out of my bathroom right now. I'm hangin' on by a thread, Remy, and I've got a show to do tonight."
"We're goin' to talk."
"Fine. But not now. Go away, and don' be thinkin' you have the right to come into my personal space anytime you like. I mean it, Remy. Just because we . . . We . . . Whatever you call what happened last night, doesn't mean it's goin' to happen again. Go away."
"It's goin' to happen again."
She wasn't going to argue that point. If he kept sitting there, all arrogant and hot-looking it might happen again and she needed him gone. Now. This instant. Her body was already coming alive, that terrible craving starting. He had to go.
"Please go, Remy. Please."
He sighed and straightened up. "But we're talkin' after your show tonight. I know you're goin' to be tired, chere, but it's important."
She didn't answer, but turned away from him, mostly out of self-preservation. She was truly in trouble around Remy. Her body seemed to rule her head, not the other way around, and she had to find a way to conquer her need of him.
10
REMY stood in the back of the packed club, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze moving over the crowd restlessly. His leopard had never liked being indoors, let alone in the midst of a throng as big as this one. He was surprised the fire marshal, who was sitting in the crowd, hadn't complained.
He spotted Arnaud at a table up front, clearly a welcome guest. Just the sight of the man set his teeth on edge and if Bijou smiled at him one more time, he just might have to go drag the sculptor right out of the club and throw him in the bayou again. What the hell was she thinking? Leopards weren't nice about sharing mates. They were jealous and bad tempered, and his leopard was one of the worst. Remy disliked Arnaud on principle, but his leopard despised him.
Basically, he despised any man who came near Bijou, but especially the ones she smiled at--or sang to. Remy's gaze went back to Bijou. She always astonished him when she sang. Her voice was such a blend of smoke and sex. There was a husky, sinful quality to her vocals, rich and beautiful, the tone unique. She had some of the gravel her father was famous for, and the wide, wide range, but the soft, sensual quality was all her own.
She looked beautiful. There was no other word for it. She was in a long gown that hugged her phenomenal figure, emphasizing her small waist and drawing attention to her full breasts and rounded hips. She was breathtaking as far as Remy was concerned and he had the feeling that a good number of the men in the audience felt the same.
Each set seemed better than the last. He knew she'd suffered trauma, and yet she was totally relaxed, genuinely smiling and very friendly to her audience--completely different while performing than when she was simply Bijou. Bijou was shy and withdrawn, but as a singer, she was confident and smooth, and very sexy.
Her voice burned through his skin to sink into his bones. It sounded like a cliche to him but she took his breath away standing up there, belting out her soulful, bluesy song so effortlessly, the
notes so clean and pure, yet blending one into the other until she took them all on a journey with her of heartache and need.
He was a man who was extremely cynical. Even more than that, he didn't trust anyone, not with his job, yet when he looked at her, his heart pounded, his mouth went dry and his body went as hard as a rock. He was a man always in control, and yet with Bijou, he was on the edge, or lost it completely. His mind was always logical, everything in his world had to make sense, because the killing never did. It wasn't logical to fall for Bijou Breaux.
She had too many interested men gawking at her. He was the jealous type--well--not him--his leopard. She had too much money. He couldn't even conceive of the kind of money she had. She was in need of rescuing and refused to even consider that possibility. Worse, she stood up to him, which was exactly what he wanted and needed in a woman, but not when it didn't suit him.
He swore under his breath for about the tenth time. And that was another thing wrong with her--she made him swear and he wasn't the swearing kind.
Gage nudged him. "You're doin' it again, bro. You're actin' like a fish out of water gaspin' for breath." He grinned at Remy's dark scowl. "I've never seen anyone have it so bad. Not even Drake, and he was just a fool for our sister. You can't stop starin' at her, and you're lookin' at her like any moment you're going to be carryin' her off to a cave somewhere."
"It's not a bad idea," Remy snapped, unrepentant. "The cavemen had something going for them after all. She doesn't have to do that thing with her hips when she's walkin' through the crowd. What's up with that?"
"You're supposed to be lookin' out for her, not gettin' all hot and bothered," Gage pointed out. "You're losin' your edge, Remy."
"That's a little difficult," Remy admitted, and forced himself to look around the room. Ryan Cooper, Brent Underwood and Tom Berlander were at a table close to the front with Robert Lanoux and two men who looked vaguely familiar. All of them were drinking heavily, even Robert, and shifters just didn't do that to their leopards. Remy didn't like the way any of them was looking at Bijou. Every now and then the two men he should have been able to identify, but couldn't, leaned close to whisper something to Ryan and Ryan would scowl up at Bijou and mutter something.
Remy nudged Gage. "Those two men with Ryan Cooper, do you know them?"
"Jean and Juste Rousseau, a couple of punks who always seem just on the outside of the play, but I've suspected for a very long time they're the ringleaders. I see them around some of the criminal elements, but they're always quiet and we've never caught them at anything."
"I recognize the names, now that you say them. Their names came up in the investigation of the bone harvester four years ago. They were friends with one of the victims and I remember bringin' them in and askin' questions . . . but they don' look the same."
Gage nodded. "Yeah, they changed their hair color from dark to that sandy blond. I think they're tryin' to be surfers. They went out to California for a while to visit their mama and I guess the idea of bein' surfin' bums was too much to pass up." He snickered. "They've been gone a few years. Maybe their mama got tired of supportin' their lifestyle and sent them back to their daddy."
"How do you know so much about them?" Remy asked. "I only interviewed them once, they didn't seem a good fit, and had nothin' to add to the investigation, so I put them out of my mind."
"You haven't driven the streets like I've been doin'. A few years ago, around the time of the killin's, there was petty vandalism goin' on, mostly homes of the elderly and the poor, but someone was beatin' the hell out of the occupants. None of the incidents occurred in New Orleans, but more in the outlying parish. No one died, but it was pretty ugly."
"And they were suspects?" Remy's gaze flickered once more to the table where Cooper and his friends were getting louder.
He'd always wondered at the possibility of two men committing the murders. The murders were messy and all over the place, yet the altar was exact, meticulous even. He could never find evidence of two killers, but the bone harvester could easily be a team.
"I had a hunch, but there was never any hard evidence at any of the break-ins." Gage shrugged. "Now that they're back, the break-ins have started again."
Remy observed the two men for a few minutes. "They whisper to Ryan, and they're the ones buying the drinks. I think they're eggin' him on."
"I noticed that as well," Gage said.
Remy had always respected Gage. He held all of his brothers in high esteem, but since Gage had become the sheriff, he'd grown very serious about his work and he was damn good at it. "Is it possible they're a killin' team?"
Gage frowned, studying the two men. "Are they capable of it? I would say yes. I think sooner or later they will kill someone. These break-ins are definitely not about the money. Whoever is beatin' the elderly is doin' it for fun."
"You don' get a scent?"
Remy's pulse jumped. There was never a scent left behind at the bone harvester's kills. Not one that Remy could catch, and his leopard was always close to the surface. The victim was always so fearful, sweat pouring off of them, the blood and intestines and bowels obliterating any scent the leopard might pick up, which was highly unusual. Leopards had a tremendous sense of smell, and Remy's had always been a huge asset to his career, yet his cat had never been able to pick up the scent of the bone harvester. How could Gage's leopard not pick up the scent of the violent home invaders?
"I definitely have caught their scents at the homes, but the problem is, they work odd jobs and they've done work at all the homes. They aren't the only ones either. It's a perfect way to get an in with those livin' in the houses, and every single one of the victims describes the masked intruders differently."
"I don' like that Robert is runnin' with them," Remy commented, frowning.
"Yeah, I've been particularly worried about the relationship for some time, and I know his brother Dion has tried to get him away from them," Gage responded.
"Could the Rousseau brothers be runnin' a crew to do the break-ins?"
Gage shrugged. "I'd believe anything is possible at this point. But they'd have to be very smart to pull it off and never get caught. Why would they think if their crew got popped, they wouldn't be named?"
"Because they are smart. Maybe they're certain nothin' can be traced back to them."
"Still," Gage said, "it's possible you might want to look a little closer at them for the bone harvester's murders. They left around the time the murders stopped and they've been back long enough to establish themselves and begin again."
"You should have told me about them," Remy pointed out. His leopard was snarling and raking at him, wanting freedom with the two brothers in such close proximity to Bijou.
Gage shrugged. "I had no idea you were considerin' them for the murders."
Remy had to be fair, although he didn't feel fair; he felt like raging and raking his claws up and down the walls to claim his territory and warn all others away. He'd spotted several leopard males in the room, all with their attention focused, even fixated on Bijou as she performed. She looked alluring, sexy, her body moving subtly beneath that figure-hugging gown. She'd caught his attention again and he couldn't pull his gaze away from her.
"That's true," he murmured.
There she went again, moving through the crowd instead of staying on the small stage close to the band where her bodyguards could stop any trouble before it started. He winced visibly when she stepped backward so gracefully, her hips swaying as she poured herself into her music. That small step took her a little too close to Arnaud, and his leopard pushed close to the surface, causing a wave of itching as fur threatened to burst through his skin. His joints hurt. His jaw ached.
Remy breathed deep and called on years of discipline to subdue his leopard. He breathed away the pain and worked his jaw to keep teeth from bursting through.
Gage nudged him, clearly attempting to distract him. Both knew just how dangerous a male leopard could be with his mate emerging for the fi
rst time. "See that man, third table to the right, fourth row. He was the one starin' through the window of the cafe when Bijou was there. You asked everyone to keep their eyes out for him. His name is Jason Durang and he works for Bijou's manager. Rob Butterfield, her manager, has been in town awhile now. They both arrived within a few days of Bijou. Durang has been doggin' her, followin' her everywhere and reportin' back to her manager."
Remy frowned. "He's not her stalker. Bob Carson is definitely the man stalking her. I smelled his scent all over her car and even on the ropes he cut. He makes more sense. He has to blame her for his life. I called Angelina at the office and asked her to look up Carson and what happened to him during the years with his mother after they left Bodrie's mansion. She was a major drug user and became a prostitute to feed her habit. Her son was dragged around from city to city, following Bodrie wherever he was, but they weren't allowed to live in the mansion until after Bijou's mother died."
"How did Bijou's mother die?" Gage asked.
"She died under suspicious circumstances, which only gained Bodrie more sympathy. She'd just had Bijou, and Bodrie went on a tour. Bijou's mother left the baby at the mansion and supposedly went for a drive. Her car and body were found over in the next parish, the car wrapped around a tree. It didn't make sense for her to leave the baby behind. And some of the officers put in their reports that they didn't believe she was the driver."
"You don' believe it now, either, do you?"
"If Carson's mother decided to kill Bodrie's wife, and she had her son help her at such an impressionable age, he would be one mixed-up kid," Remy said.
"But if she was leopard . . ." Gage protested.
"She had head injuries and the medical examiner couldn't tell if she had some prior to the accident. The case remained open because he wouldn't rule either way."
"Damn it, Remy, Bijou is in real trouble, isn't she?"
Remy nodded slowly. "I don' believe her manager has her best interests at heart either. I don' know what he has in mind, but clearly he's here for a reason and it can't be good. They're comin' at her from every direction."
Leopard's Prey Page 18
