Leopard's Prey (37 page)

Remy was proud of her. He knew Saria could hold back her leopard, but Bijou was new to the world of leopards, and yet she instinctively exerted dominion over her cat. Tension ran high in the room. The male leopards moved just below the surface of their human counterparts, enraged at the sniveling male who acted as if it was perfectly all right to force a woman to do his bidding simply because she worked as an exotic dancer.

“We’re goin’ to talk about it,” Remy snapped, his voice unusually gravelly. “Whether you like it or not. Women who work in clubs don’ have to have sex with men because the men demand it. They have the right to say no. Why would you think otherwise?”

Drake prowled up and down the room, coiled and ready. He shot Robert a glare from nearly golden eyes. “Be very careful about lying, Robert. I’ve run out of patience with you.”

Robert shrank back in his chair, his face going pale. “It’s not like we have a lot of women around here, and the ones we do have are taken. Those strippers expect to have to put out. It comes with the territory.”

“How did they get the girls to cooperate?” Remy persisted.

“One girl, Candy Jacobson, refused when Ryan tried to fuck her out in the alley. She even slapped his face. Juste beat the livin’ daylights out of her. He wanted the other girls to see what would happen if they said no. He made certain the others saw her, he took them to her room and then she disappeared. He told everyone she left town, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head and looking up at Remy with fear.

“You believe she’s dead,” Remy prompted.

Robert nodded. “Brent and I went to the swamp early the day she disappeared. Jean and Juste kept their stash of drugs there and we both were hurtin’. There was supposed to be a job that night. Neither one of us wanted to go and we thought if we got wasted, it would be easier.”

“And?” Remy insisted through gritted teeth.

“The brothers had weighted somethin’ down and shoved it underwater. Both of us caught a glimpse of red material. Candy had been wearin’ a red nightgown in her bed when Juste and Jean brought the other girls in to see her.”

“You knew they killed this woman and you still didn’t come forward?” Remy demanded.

“You really are a worthless human being and an even worse leopard,” Drake snarled.

“I didn’t know for certain,” Robert defended his inaction. “I wasn’t about to try to bring up whatever the Rousseaus had put in the water.”

Remy felt Bijou press her face against his back. The anger had faded to be replaced by something altogether different. Fear had a distinct smell to it, and Bijou was afraid. His world was dark and violent. Most of the time he lived in the shadows. He tracked murderers and spent his time looking at crime scenes. Bijou lived very differently. She was alone a lot, but in some ways she was protected from the outside world. On tour she’d had a team of bodyguards to watch over her.

Being newly introduced to the world of leopards she had to be a little freaked out. Robert was no example of what they were like, she had to know that, but the rage in both Remy and Drake was tangible and that had to scare her. If nothing else, she had to consider whether or not she wanted to live in a world where the rules were kill or be killed. Make a mistake and the law of the jungle was brought down on one’s head. Robert was under a death sentence, and it wasn’t just talk. The more he revealed the extent of and his attitude toward the crimes he’d committed, the worse it was for him. No leopard could be jailed for long. The results would be catastrophic. To protect their lair and all of their kind, a rotten apple like Robert had to be dealt with immediately and permanently.

Remy wanted to comfort Bijou, but there was no way to do that. He glanced at his sister. There were tears in her eyes. She knew Robert had dug himself a deep hole. Robert and Dion had always been her friends. She had to be wondering how he could sink so low so fast.

Leopards didn’t tolerate drugs or alcohol. Most of the time none of the shifters bothered because one had to really suppress his leopard to feel the effects, and it took a lot. Robert had clearly chosen drugs and alcohol over his own leopard – another major sin in their world.

“Robert,” Remy said quietly. He kept breathing deep to keep his own leopard in check. The animal was difficult at the best of times and right now, he wanted free reign to take care of what he considered a traitor to their people. “You’re goin’ to take me to the site. I don’ want an argument so just don’ bother protesting. You know the Rousseau brothers are capable of murder. Did you think Jean and Juste might have killed Pete Morgan?” Remy asked grimly.

“I don’ know. I thought about it. Brent and I even talked about it. We were supposed to meet up with them that night, but they didn’t show. Juste had a run-in with Morgan a few nights earlier. He’d heard Bijou had asked around lookin’ for a guide into the swamp and someone recommended Pete Morgan. Juste confronted Morgan because accordin’ to Juste and Jean, he had no business actin’ like a guide. Pete was a shrimper and fisherman and they didn’t want him…”

Drake leapt past Remy, a blur of motion, claws raking the other side of Robert’s face, furious that Robert knew Saria and every other guide in the swamp might be in danger from the Rousseau brothers, and he handn’t come forward to tell. Robert ducked, trying to scramble backward in the chair, but Drake had been far too fast and he was seconds too late. Blood ran down the other side of his face and trickled onto his shirt in four tiny streams.

Bijou shuddered, twisting her fingers deeper into the back of Remy’s shirt. She made a soft sound of pure distress in her throat. Remy wanted to fold her into his arms, hold her next to his heart to shelter her from everything else. He reached behind him to run his fingers down her arm in a small, reassuring caress. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

“They were expandin’ their business and wanted money from anyone guidin’ in the swamp. Pete laughed at them and refused to pay,” Robert howled. “It wasn’t my idea. I told them no one livin’ and workin’ around the bayous or swamps would pay, but they wouldn’t listen. They said all they needed was a couple of good examples and everyone would get in line.”

“So you knew all this and still you kept quiet. Saria guides tourists,” Remy pointed out. “My sister. The wife of your leader, and your friend.”

“They didn’t threaten Saria,” Robert denied. “They didn’t.”

“You’re going to write this all down and then you’re going to lead us into the swamp where they conduct these rituals,” Remy said. “Don’ shake your head, Robert. You’ve broken just about every single law we have. I’m takin’ these two down, and you’re goin’ to help me do it. I want them for the break-ins and the beatin’s. Even if I can’t prove they killed Pete Morgan and Ryan Cooper, I’ll have them behind bars, and that should give me more time to find evidence they’ve been committin’ these murders if they have.”

“We’ll go as soon as it’s dark,” Drake said. “The three of us will go in to uncover the evidence and see what’s there. I’ll want your brothers, Remy, to be on guard here. We’ll have to bring Dion back and put him in protective custody – ours. I trust our leopards to guard him. He won’t like it, but that’s too bad.”

“You know I have to bring Robert in,” Remy said.

“No!” Robert nearly jumped out of his chair. “You can’t lock up a leopard. You know that. And Juste and Jean will find a way to kill me,” he added.

“You don’ get a pass on this one,” Remy said. “You joined a gang that beat up the elderly and robbed them. The DA will make a deal with you, but you have to face this. I’ll do my best to keep you out of jail, and if you do have to be there, you’ll be in your own cell.”

“You can’t let him take me in,” Robert appealed to Drake. “You know the Rousseau brothers will get to me if they know I turned them in.”

“You said they would get to you no matter what,” Drake reminded. “That they aren’t entirely human. You can’t have it both ways. Robert, you did this. You had options all along and you chose the easy way out. Get on your feet. We’re going to take care of this and do as much damage control as possible.”

“Gage,” Remy said. “Have some of your men keep an eye on Brent Underwood and Tom Berlander. Make certain they do it from a distance. We don’ want them tipped off, or worse, the Rousseau brothers to get suspicious.”

“No problem,” Gage agreed. “Consider it done.”

“We’ll stay away from the brothers for now,” Remy decided. “They probably are crowin’ about fooling me in interrogation. Once again, they figure they outsmarted the cops. I want them feelin’ all happy, warm and fuzzy. We don’ want them runnin’.”

“And if they head out to the swamp while you’re out there?” Gage asked.

“They’ll run into leopards and it won’t be pretty,” Remy said, his tone unforgiving.

Bijou dropped her arms to her sides and stepped away from him. He turned to face her. She looked stricken and maybe a little sick. “These men sound dangerous, Remy,” she whispered.

He reached for her hand and tugged her to him, sliding her under his shoulder and walking her out of the room – away from Robert and the stench of madness. She didn’t need to see the corrupt side of leopards, not when she was first learning about her heritage. Like anything, there was both good and bad.

He didn’t want to talk to her in front of Robert, or anyone else for that matter. She was intensely private and she wouldn’t want him comforting her in front of the others. He took her through to the kitchen and as soon as the door closed behind them, he swung her around and tipped her chin up so he could see her eyes.

“I’m sorry about all this.”

For a moment she was silent, pressing her lips together. Finally she nodded. “I never really thought about the kinds of things you have to see when you go to work. Or the kinds of people you have to associate with.”

He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, a little shocked that her distress was more for him than for herself. “I don’ think it’s much different from the people you had to associate with as a child, Bijou.”

“They were self-indulgent and permissive, but they didn’t think it was okay to hurt and rape women and no one murdered anyone,” she protested. “I might have been neglected and embarrassed by the behavior, but I never had to deal with the grisly, horrific things you see.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Blue, I know we have so much to talk about and I keep askin’ you to wait for me, but I need you to understand. I can’t have these men runnin’ loose. Even if they aren’t the ones who killed Pete Morgan and Ryan Cooper, they’re dangerous and I need to get them off the street.”

“Of course. There’s no question of that,” Bijou said, frowning at him.

“The point is, I’ll be workin’ all night and maybe most of tomorrow.”

“I figured that out for myself. Remy, I’m not a baby, and I certainly am not someone who has to be with a man every moment. I know what you do. I didn’t have any idea how awful it was for you, but I got together with you knowing you’re a homicide detective. I’m not about to fall apart because you have to work.”

She was hesitant about it, but she cupped the side of his face with her palm. “I can be afraid for you. That’s somethin’ outside my control, but I’m beginning to realize you’re a dangerous man and maybe you can take care of yourself after all.” She sent him a faint smile.

He bent his head and kissed her, needing the taste of her. Needing to know she wouldn’t pull away. He had never thought he would come to need a woman the way he did Bijou. He often reminded himself she hadn’t been back that long, that he barely knew her, but somehow she found her way inside and was stamped onto his bones. He had wanted to tell himself it was his leopard, but he feared his leopard had little to do with it now.

She leaned into him, her mouth moving under his, her slender arms sliding up to circle his neck. His kiss started out gentle but once her lips moved against his and her mouth opened to him, it was as if molten fire poured from him to her. There was no stopping, no thinking, only his woman’s body moving against his, her warmth seeping into his pores and the taste of her sinking into his bones.

“Are you goin’ to wait for me?” he asked.

“I said I would,” she murmured against his lips.

He kissed her again, that whisper of a caress too much to resist. His tongue tangled and danced with hers. “I don’ want you gettin’ any ideas about that Frenchman,” he added. He kissed her over and over.

“Frenchman?” she asked faintly.

He lifted his head, a faint grin on his face. “That’s my woman. Forget about that filthy rich, suave, very talented artist. What could he possibly have that I don’?”

“I can’t possibly imagine,” she said, smiling back at him.

He noticed she didn’t offer to stay home from the gallery showing if he couldn’t make it back in time or had to work the next night.

16

Bijou dressed carefully for the gallery showing of Arnaud Lefevre’s work. He was always very elegant in his attire, his suits impressive and his manners impeccable. He moved in a far different world than Remy’s. She’d lived so long like Arnaud that dressing up was second nature to her. Red carpets, cameras and the right clothing were a way of life.

She liked her blue jeans and casual clothes, but there was something amazing about wiggling into a designer gown, one that covered her back and arms to hide all the evidence of her crazy sexual nights with Remy. She styled her hair in an elegant updo and put on her makeup carefully. Strappy heels and swinging sapphire earrings completed the look, making her feel very feminine.

Remy.
She sighed and stared at herself in the mirror. Apparently they’d torn up the swamp looking for evidence, and it had taken them all night and most of the day to complete their search. They found what was left of three bodies – all women – anchored in the water. One was the dancer Robert had spoken of.

Remy sounded tired when she’d spoken to him on the phone. She couldn’t imagine what it must do to him to see the horrific things he often had to contend with. His voice had been low, almost so quiet she could barely hear him, but there was sorrow for those women. Sorrow and guilt. They lived where he worked and he hadn’t known – hadn’t saved them.