Leopard's Prey (46 page)

Remy caught up his jacket, shrugging into it as he hurried out. There was something driving him now, and that usually meant he was close to breaking a case. He should have considered talking to Lefevre right away. The artist
was
good with details and few people had his observation skills. He might have even noticed something earlier, when they were in the gallery itself.

He walked the short distance to the gallery where Lefevre had his showing. He wasn’t surprised to see it had already closed, but the lights were on and he could see the artist inside, hunched over a large sketchbook. Several drafts of whatever he was working on were scattered at his feet. He looked as if he hadn’t slept since the showing. In fact, Remy thought he might have been wearing the same suit.

He wasn’t surprised to find the door unlocked. He knew the gallery owner would come by later to double-check that Lefevre had remembered to lock it. In the meantime, he had offered his place to the artist to work, knowing it would only make his gallery more prestigious with clients.

Remy stepped inside. Arnaud didn’t even glance up. He worked furiously, concentration creating deep furrows between his eyebrows.

“Mr. Lefevre?” Remy said, hoping not to startle him.

The frowned deepened and impatience flickered across the Frenchman’s face. He waved his hand toward the door without looking up. “Go away. I’m busy.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping you could help me with an ongoing investigation. I just need a few minutes of your time.”

Arnaud’s breath hissed out between his teeth. He looked up slowly, his expression exasperated. “What is it?” Even as he snapped the question, the aggravation disappeared.

Remy stepped closer. “Do you remember me? I’m Bijou’s friend, Remy Boudreaux.” He showed his badge just in case he’d spooked the artist. “I’m a homicide detective and we had a murder last night. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

Arnaud’s mood changed instantly. His gaze was riveted to Remy’s face. He tossed his sketchpad aside and leapt up, a smile on his face. “Of course I remember you. Your eyes are extraordinary. I’ve been trying to capture that look, but it isn’t right.” He gestured to the many discarded drawings scattered around the floor. “I thought if I came here instead of the studio, I’d remember better and get the actual piercing intelligence and focused danger in your eyes.” He sighed in frustration. “Maybe I could draw your face while we talk?” he said hopefully.

Lefevre
was
still wearing the same suit he’d had on the night before. Remy thought it should have been a little more rumpled since he’d worn it all night. Clearly he hadn’t slept, but he still looked elegant. Even his hair seemed to fall naturally into place.

Remy sighed, grateful Bijou wasn’t interested in Lefevre romantically. There was no competing with the wealthy, talented artist. Remy’s leopard despised him on sight. If only he could get his leopard to understand Bijou wasn’t at all interested in the man, maybe it would be easier to be around him.

“Sure.” He glanced at his watch. “I don’ have a lot of time, but I’ll come back if you don’ get whatever it is you’re lookin’ for.”

Arnaud indicated a chair where the light spilled directly into Remy’s face. “Sit there. Can you just look at me the way you did last night, when you first walked in?”

“I’ll try,” Remy said. “I’m not certain how I was lookin’ at you.”

“Like I was your prey. Very focused. What were you thinking about? Maybe that would help,” Arnaud suggested as he collected his drawing pad and pencils. He sat across from Remy.

Remy had been thinking he was going to tear the artist limb from limb because Bijou was smiling up at him. He couldn’t very well say that. “Last night there was a murder. A photographer by the name of Bob Carson. He’s the same man who had been stalkin’ Bijou.”

“Yes, yes of course. He pushed my rented car into the bayou. I’ve got my lawyers dealing with that,” Arnaud said dismissively. “Turn your head a little to the right.”

Remy complied. “He was here at the gallery last night for your showing. He was taking a lot of photographs of the event as well as everyone who was here.”

“Yes, I remember,” Arnaud agreed, his voice almost dreamy, as if already Remy was losing him to his art. His attention seemed to be drifting away.

Remy grit his teeth. His brothers would be howling over him sitting there like an idiot while Arnaud Lefevre drew his portrait, or more specifically – his eyes.

“Did you see anything unusual in the gallery that night? Anyone who might have been watchin’ Bob Carson? Did he talk to anyone?”

Arnaud scowled darkly, tore off the sheet of paper he’d been working on and flung it on the floor. He began again. “I noticed him talking to Bijou’s manager. Butterfield slipped him something. But, that wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary.”

Arnaud continued to draw, glancing up at Remy to look at his face and eyes, his mind on his work, rather than Remy’s questions.

“Not out of the ordinary?” Remy prompted, his teeth snapping together. He detested sitting there like an idiot. His leopard snarled and raged, making it difficult to stay even-tempered. He’d known Arnaud would be difficult if he was working. He’d seen Bijou practically have to babysit him.

“Yes, they often had clandestine meetings no one was supposed to see and Butterfield always gave something to Carson. Really, it was quite childish the way they acted.”

Butterfield probably had been paying Bob Carson to keep feeding the tabloids. He had no way of knowing Carson would have done it anyway.

“After you went back to the studio to work, were you aware Carson followed you?”

That got the Frenchman’s attention for all of two seconds. Or maybe he just scowled and looked up because Remy wasn’t giving him the focused stare he wanted to draw so badly.

“No. Why would he do that? All I did was work last night. All night. A complete waste of time.” Arnaud sighed in frustration.

“He was writing an article about Bijou’s love triangle.”

“She doesn’t have a love triangle,” Arnaud said. “Turn your head a little more. Stop. Hold it right there. I think that’s it.” He tore off another piece of paper and began again.

“He meant you, Bijou and me,” Remy said. “You didn’t see him lurking around? Or anyone following him, maybe across the street?”

For the first time Arnaud lowered his pencil and really looked at Remy. Remy was struck by the fact that he seemed to notice Remy as more than a pair of cat’s eyes he was trying to draw.

“That’s completely absurd.”

“Of course it is, but Carson specialized in seedy headlines. He took photographs of your work with a zoom lens and was going to publish it in a tabloid, stating you were in love with me and Bijou was in love with both of us.”

“He can’t do a thing like that. Publishing a sketch of mine that isn’t right, that I haven’t finished, would be unthinkable,” Arnaud protested. “I have a reputation, but more than that, I only show my best work – work I’m proud of. Those sketches last night were all wrong.”

“He’s dead, Arnaud,” Remy said as gently as he could through gritted teeth. “He won’t be publishing photographs anymore. I’m looking for the man or men who may have abducted him, took him out to the swamp and then murdered him.”

“At least he’s giving back to the planet and doing something constructive rather than hurting people like Bijou,” Arnaud said pragmatically. “He wasn’t a very good man, was he?”

Remy sighed. “I suppose not. But even men who aren’t worth much need someone to stand for them.”

“This isn’t working. Let’s try something else,” Arnaud said, ignoring, or not hearing Remy’s comment. “Will you allow me to put your head in the position I need you to be in?”

“I don’t have very much more time,” Remy said, glancing at his watch again.

“Just give me a couple more minutes,” Arnaud pleaded. “I know I can do this.” He jumped up, but it wasn’t jumping so much as gliding. He was very graceful, a man who under any circumstances, even when he was at his most frustrated, still seemed elegant.

He hurried around Remy and caught his chin, his touch almost gentle as he turned his head. The moment Arnaud put his fingers against Remy’s skin, Remy’s leopard raked and snarled, forcing Remy to breathe deep to keep control. He glanced down at the floor, at Arnaud’s beautifully polished immaculate dress shoes. Bits of grass and mud stuck, not to the shoes, but to one hem of his trousers. He registered the information and alarm spread. As he started to turn to face the threat, Remy felt a sting in his neck.

His leopard tried to protect him, leaping for the surface, a wave of fur moving under his skin, but the ketamine was fast acting on both of them.

Bijou stood outside the Inn with Saria, admiring the full moon. “It sure is beautiful here, Saria. What a wonderful weddin’ gift Miss Pauline gave you. The location couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Especially for a leopard,” Saria agreed. “Miss Pauline was always in love with Amos Jeanmard. When his wife died, he married Miss Pauline, and she gave me the Inn.”

“I remember him. We used to have to hide from him when we were sneakin’ into the swamp at night.”

“He’s leopard. He was leader of the lair, but he claimed he got old and tired. Miss Pauline’s leopard never emerged and he didn’t marry her when they were young because he thought it would be best for the lair if only leopards mated. I think the real reason he gave up leadership was so he felt he was free to marry Miss Pauline.”

Bijou leaned against Saria’s car. Hers was going to need a lot of work before she could drive it – if she could make herself get into it after the things Carson had done to it. “If my leopard hadn’t emerged, do you think Remy would have walked away?”

Saria frowned at her. “I always forget you lack self-confidence, which is insane when it comes to my brother. He’s head over heels for you. Believe me, I’ve never seen him act like such a goofball.”

“Remy is never a goofball,” Bijou said. She looked up at the sky again, at the stars. “I’d forgotten how to be happy until I came back here. Which is rather awful to say when all these murders are going on. I don’ know how Remy does it every day.”

“He’s good at his job and he’s passionate about it. Remy lives life to the fullest. Now that he has you, I won’t worry so much about him,” Saria said. “He can be so serious, and that leopard of his is so difficult.”

“Are you afraid of your leopard?” Bijou asked, crossing her arms across her chest. “Because I’ll admit, I find the entire idea of being a shifter very scary. What if I can’t control her when she’s out?”

“I felt that way at first as well,” Saria admitted. “You have Remy, and he’ll guide you through it. There are seven main families that live in the swamps and bayous that date back to the first settlers. They did intermarry with others who weren’t leopard, but if they have one of the seven last names, you can pretty much bet, they’re one of us. The thing is, Bijou, we’re a small community so we’re intensely loyal to one another. We have to be.”

“Like Robert?”

“I don’ know what happened to Robert. He was such a sweet boy when he was younger. Drake is goin’ to send him to Borneo to some friends of his. It’s that, or he has to follow up with his challenge for leadership and he won’t survive. Drake is givin’ him a chance, but if Robert refuses to take it, our world can be quite violent, but it has to be.” Saria studied Bijou’s face.

“I know you all grew up with Robert, but the things he did, the people who were hurt and he could have stopped it, don’ you think he should at least spend time in jail?”

“A leopard can’t be locked up for long, Bijou,” Saria explained.

“Still, it feels like everyone else gets punished, but he’s goin’ to be vacationing in Borneo. How is that teaching him a lesson?”

“Drake is from Borneo,” Saria said. “The men there rescue victims of kidnappers. It’s dangerous and hard work. We live in civilization here. They live in the rain forest. They won’t tolerate mistakes. Punishments there are brutal and fast. Robert isn’t going on any picnic. He’ll either grow up and become a decent man, or won’t survive.”

Bijou shook her head. “I don’ know how you accepted all this so easily, Saria. It’s a real struggle for me. Sometimes I think it’s all a dream, or maybe I’ve gone a little insane.”

“But you are a shifter, Bijou and you belong in our world. Do you understand? Because you can’t run from who you are.”

“Your brothers think I’m goin’ to get bored or scared and leave here, don’t they?” Bijou asked.

“I don’t know what they think. I know better,” Saria said. “We’re your family. You never had one, and you always wanted one. I think you’ll be more loyal and more protective than anyone else.” She laughed softly. “With the exception of Remy. No one can be more protective than my big brother.”

Bijou glanced at her watch. “Speaking of, if I don’ leave soon, I’ll be late for our dinner. He had something important he wanted to talk to me about.”

“I should have known you were goin’ somewhere with him. You look… radiant.”

Bijou flashed a smile at Saria. “I do rather like that man.”

“I would never have guessed. I suppose Remy’s locked up just about everyone he can that he thinks might be a threat to you, so it must be safe enough.”

“That’s what he said. I’m meetin’ him at the station house. We’ll probably be home early though. He needs to get to bed.” Bijou found herself blushing when Saria burst out laughing.

Saria sobered. “You know, Bijou, Remy’s always going to be a cop.”

“I know. But he’ll be my cop.”

Saria touched her teeth to her bottom lip. “A lot of women start out thinking it’s cool to be with a cop, but the reality of that world gets to them after a while. Do you think you can handle it long term? Remy is very good at what he does and, although if you really were upset I think he’d stop, he wouldn’t be happy.”

“I’m proud of who he is, Saria, and what he does. I’m going to make a success of the club and make certain he can be just as proud of me.” Her eyes met Saria’s. “Your brother really is safe with me.”

Saria’s answering smile was serene. “I know that, I just wanted to make certain you knew it as well. Have fun tonight, although,” she added mischievously, “whenever my big brother wanted to talk to me about somethin’, I was usually in trouble.”