Savage Nature (30 page)

“Great, bro,” Lojos said. “You didn’ tell me that.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary. I’m a detective, Lojos, and I take my job seriously. The first thing I do is clear my family and then move on to a pool of suspects. Because I thought the women were killed by someone with shifter blood that couldn’t actually shift, the suspect pool was large. This narrows it down.”

“Off the top of your head, Remy,” Drake said, “who would be your first suspect?”

Remy’s gaze shifted just for a moment to Joshua and then he shook his head. “You know it doesn’ work that way.”

“Sure it does,” Joshua said. “My grandfather was a monster. Why your leader didn’t take him down years ago, I have no idea, but he beat my grandmother continually and then started on his sons. You know why my mother left, right?” He dared Remy to state the reasons out loud.

Remy frowned and shook his head. “I was gone for years. Most of us were. We only started hearing rumors about a daughter recently, and Saria met her in the swamp a time or two. Her name is Evangeline. We thought her mother had died in childbirth, not committed suicide. No one goes on the Tregre land. It borders Mercier land and even Charisse and Armande don’t go there.”

“And no one thought to check? Teachers? Anyone?” Joshua demanded.

“Check what?” Remy snapped back. “The boys went to school and no one thought they had any oer children. They kept to themselves and had a reputation for scaring off trespassers. They had the right to live the way they wanted.”

“Not like that,” Joshua snapped. “He abused those women.”

“And the men,” Remy said. “Yes, he should have been stopped, but no one knew it was goin’ on until after he was dead. Your father’s death was reported as a huntin’ accident. Here in the swamp, accidents happen all the time. No one liked the old man, and we made up stories about him, but he rarely came out of the swamp and none of his sons did. All
pere
ever said was to stay away from them. Mercier told his children the same thing.”

“So when Saria came home telling you there was a female child, a young woman no one knew about, you didn’t think it was worth investigating?” Joshua demanded.

Remy’s gaze was steady. “I did go see her. She’s twenty, and she told me she was homeschooled and that her brothers, father and uncle have watched over her. Yes, at times she’s lonely, but she said she had Charisse as a friend and that more and more they’re takin’ her out of the swamp. She’s nervous, but after meetin’ Saria, she thinks she’ll be fine. What more could I do? She claims no one has ever laid a hand on her. She saw the old Buford a time or two, but he never saw her. It was drilled in her to stay hidden from him.”

“And you believed her?” Drake asked quietly when Joshua made a derisive noise. “Old man Tregre was leopard. How the hell would they hide the scent of a leopard . . . ?” He trailed off, his eyes meeting Remy’s.

“How
would
they hide the scent?” Remy asked thoughtfully. “That’s a damn good question.”

“Could the Tregre brothers have found a way to hide the scent of a leopard from everyone? And what about DNA? Surely there had to be some saliva in the bites of the victims you found, something on the body to indicate a leopard attack,” Drake said.

Remy shook his head. “That was why I thought it was a simulated attack. How could a leopard deliver a suffocating bite without leaving either scent or saliva behind?”

“No one could do that, could they?” Lojos asked. “We have a tremendous sense of smell.”

“I think someone
did
do just that,” Remy said, “but how it’s possible, I have no idea.”

Saria shuddered and slipped onto the couch beside Drake. “Then it’s possible it wasn’t Armande who attacked me after all. It could have been anyone—the killer. Maybe that’s why my leopard didn’t accept him. She was confused with no scent or other identifying markers.”

Drake slipped his arm around her, making a determined effort not to wince at the movement. “Maybe the Tregre land should be our next visit.”

“I’ll take you,” Remy said. “We can go tomorrow. My brothers will come along with your team, just to make certain we have enough men to look thoroughly around.”

“I will take him,” Saria sent her brother a steady look. “He hired me and I do my job.”

“I don’ want you in the middle of this,” Remy growled.

“She’s already in the middle of this, Remy,” Drake said. Weariness crept in. All he wanted to do was get back to the inn and crash in a bed. “The killer knows she’s onto his dump site and half the men here have lost all good sense. She can stay right where I can keep an eye on her.”

“I don’ need protection,” Saria protested.

Drake laughed softly and brushed a kiss into the thick sun-bleached hair. “You can’t have it both ways, honey. Either you’re guiding me to the Tregre swamp or you’re staying home.”

“Of course I’m goin’,” Saria said.

“I’m keepin’ these pictures, Saria,” Remy said. “You did a good job on photographin’ the scene. I’ll get the bottles collected for prints if any are left.”

“Most of the places were in the marsh, with the ground impossible to walk on, but there’s tracts of land that are rich in soil and very solid,” Saria said. “I think the two men went there, shared a drink and then one killed the other and moved the body to the marsh.”

Drake shook his head. “The leopard dragged his victim to the marsh. There was a trail of blood from one site to the place where Saria found the body. I’m heading back to the inn. Let’s do this tomorrow.”

Remy nodded. “Don’ go gettin’ in any more fights or I’ll have to arrest you.”

Drake heard the faint humor in his voice. “You can always try.”

12

DRAKE made his way to the entrance of the inn, his team sweeping tirelessly behind him. Joshua circled the inn while Evan went ahead and Jerico trailed him. It was quite frankly annoying. He knew how Jake and Emma Bannaconni felt when they left their home surrounded by bodyguards, but damn it all, he
was
the bodyguard. He headed up his own teams for hostage rescue both for Bannaconni and in the rain forest. He glared at Evan. It didn’t help that he was certain Evan hid a grin.

He swore under his breath and Saria glanced up sharply at him.

“Are you all right?” She sounded anxious. “I could ask one of the men to help me get you upstairs.”

Great. She thought he was about to fall down. Suppressing the groan, somewhere between annoyed and amused, Drake dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Just don’t like our escort. Fucking idiots thinking they have to guard me.”

She coughed. He searched her averted face suspiciously. “You’d think my own woman might have a little sympathy for my situation. These men are never going to let me live this down.”

Pauline Lafont stood at the front door, her hands on her hips, a stern look on her face as he came limping up. “I hear you went chargin’ to Saria’s rescue and got yourself in a bit of trouble,” she greeted.

Drake sighed. “News travels fast around here.”

Pauline stepped aside to allow him entrance. Evan, already in the room, stood just to the right of the large living area, gun loose but ready in his hands. His gaze met Drake’s over the top of Pauline’s head and flicked to his left, toward the corner Drake didn’t have a visu on. His hand signed subtly. Pauline was not alone. Drake forced his body to straighten and he stepped just a little ahead of Saria, sweeping her back with one arm, signaling Jerico with another subtle hand movement as he did so.

Saria didn’t protest, nor make a big deal out of it. He loved that about her. She had a measure of trust in him he wasn’t altogether certain he deserved yet, but he was determined to live up to it.

“He definitely has heroic tendencies, Miss Pauline,” Saria chattered, as if Drake just hadn’t signaled possible danger.

She’d read him, he knew she had, but she didn’t miss a beat. His heart swelled with pride. The more he was around her, the more he knew absolutely that she was the
one
. She would stand with him, no matter the danger, or the hard times. Saria Boudreaux was the kind of woman a man kept forever.

He stepped past Pauline, already turning to face whoever was hidden behind the corner. The scent of blood and sweat hit him immediately, providing identification. Amos Jeanmard lay on the sofa, an ice pack pressed to one cheek, his chest heavily bandaged. He didn’t bother to try to get up, obviously very conscious of Evan’s weapon. The barrel was down, but still pointed in his direction.

Joshua came in through the kitchen, gun ready, his gaze on Jeanmard. He signaled all clear to Drake.

“Jeanmard,” Drake greeted.

“Lickin’ my wounds and lettin’ my woman fuss over me a bit,” Jeanmard said. “You hit like a freight train.”

Drake nudged Saria. “See that? His woman fusses over him. She doesn’t call him a big baby,” he whispered, overly loud.

Jeanmard snorted. “You won’ be gettin’ sympathy from me. I tried to get you out of it, but you went all Rambo on me. Now you’re stuck with her.” He grinned, self-satisfied. “Me? I’m retirin’ on the front porch and rockin’ with my woman.”

Pauline pushed past Drake and sank down in a chair opposite Amos. “I put supper out after I tended to Amos, so please feel free to eat. I’m sure you’re all hungry.”

Joshua nodded. “Thanks, ma’am.”

“Don’t think for one moment I believe your crap, Jeanmard,” Drake said, towering over him, hands on hips. “You knew
exactly
how I’d react. You played me. You and Remy.”

Jeanmard grinned at him. “Not Remy. I knew either you or Remy would come at me. I wasn’t expectin’ such a violent attack and thought I could put on a bit of a show before handin’ over the reins. Instead, I think you broke all my ribs.”

Drake glanced at Jerico and then to Joshua. Both shook their heads. The house and grounds were clear of any enemy. Jeanmard was alone. Drake signed his crew they could stand down and eat. They sent him a small, taunting grin, knowing he had gotten himself in over his head here in the Louisiana swamp—for a woman. He wouldn’t be living it down any time soon.

“Take a seat before you fall down,” Jeanmard suggested. “There’s no need to play the tough guy around me. I’ve felt you hit and I’m already suitably impressed.”

Drake might have believed him if he hadn’t caught the note of laughter and knew he’dn played for a sucker. The old man had wanted out and he’d found a sure way to do it. “I might have killed you,” he pointed out, sinking down into one of Pauline’s comfortable chairs. It felt a little like heaven to him.

“I’ll get you some food,” Saria offered.

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She was worth it, although a little sympathy might have added to the deal. He felt Jeanmard’s scrutiny and let her hand slide away. “You’ve got a few problems here, Jeanmard.”

The older man gave a small derisive laugh. “Actually, there are a
lot
of problems, but they’re all yours now, not mine. The broken ribs are worth it. And call me Amos.”

Drake glanced at Pauline. She hadn’t said a word, but she obviously knew Drake and Jeanmard had fought.

“She knows everythin’,” Jeanmard said. “I never lied to her, not once in all the years she waited for me.” There was genuine love in his voice. “I knew she was my mate—my leopard recognized her—but she had no leopard and I was afraid our lair would eventually disappear. It was a mistake.
My
mistake. I wanted to keep all the shifters here instead of sendin’ them out as I should have.” He groaned as he moved to try to ease his position a little. “I did my duty and I never cheated on Adrienne. My loyalty was the only thing I could give her. She was a good woman and good mother. I loved her in my way, but she deserved more.” He looked at Pauline. “You deserved more.”

Drake felt the older man’s sorrow. The look between the innkeeper and the old leopard was so intimate, he had to look away. To love like that and yet sacrifice for the good of a species. What a wasted effort.

“Every choice in my life I’ve made,” Pauline said quietly, “I made each one, knowin’ what I was doin’.” Her voice was firm. She stood up. “I’ll get you a plate of food if you think you can eat now, Amos.”

Saria was like Pauline Lafont—a woman who would stand by a man in spite of his mistakes. Drake waited until Pauline had slipped into the dining room.

“That woman is humbling. She’s magnificent.”

Amos forced himself into a sitting position, his face going gray. He clenched his teeth to keep from moaning and Drake didn’t add to his indignity by offering to help. Amos breathed shallow for a few moments before forcing a small rueful grin. “Yes, she is. Saria is quite a bit like her.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“I hope you do better by her than I did Pauline.”

Drake stretched out his legs. His bum leg was one big ache, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he found he was black and blue from thigh to ankle. His very bones hurt. “I think I’m too damned old for this fighting crap.”

“I know I am.” Amos glanced toward the dining room and lowered his voice. “Tell me about the Tregre boy. What’s he like?”