Leopard's Prey
Page 80
“There was no connection to the first four murders four years ago,” Remy snapped.
“Don’ bite my head off, Remy. She was in New Orleans four years ago. She came back for her father’s funeral. I’m just sayin’ you’re too close to this with her and aren’t considerin’ even the remote possibility. Just to be safe. Maybe she knew the other victims.”
Remy sighed. He detested that Gage was right. He couldn’t ignore any possibility, no matter how crazy it sounded. “Maybe, but she would have said.”
“Four years ago, she wasn’t thinkin’ about murder, Remy. And she hightailed it out of here the moment she buried her father. She might not have even known there was a murderer carvin’ people up.”
Remy nodded. He didn’t want to question Bijou about the murders or any of the victims. He’d already blown it with her so many times he was afraid if he kept making mistakes with her, she’d get it in her head to take off. She had enough money to go anywhere in the world and if she wanted to disappear, he had no doubt that she could make it happen.
“It’s a long shot, but I’ll ask. Right now, let’s concentrate on the Rousseau brothers and their friends. I’d also like to know the whereabouts of Rob Butterfield, her manager, and his little enforcer friend Jason Durang last night. If they don’ have a good alibi, I’ll be wantin’ to talk to them as well. And, Gage . . .” Remy waited until his brother turned back to face him. “If they alibi each other, and no one else can corroborate, that doesn’t count as a decent alibi.”
Gage sighed. “I was hopin’ this would never happen again. Especially on our turf.”
“I’m with you there, Gage,” Remy admitted. “This is one sick man. I thought it was bad enough when his victims were nothin’ but meat to him, but he stayed cold as ice, even through the butcherin’ of Cooper alive. Nothin’ else changed. His hands weren’t shakin’. He didn’t leave prints or any other evidence behind. But he knew Cooper. And he had some kind of grudge against him.”
“Or maybe Cooper decided he didn’t like bein’ told to break into old folks’ homes and beat them up. Maybe he’d had enough and was goin’ to start talkin’ to us,” Gage suggested.
“Or he was drunk and was talkin’ smack,” Remy said. “That’s more likely. If you’re right about the Rousseau brothers, they’d take action.”
“Or kill him for kicks,” Gage suggested.
LeBrun shook his head. “This wasn’t for kicks. Whoever carves those bones wasn’t doin’ it for the fun of it.”
“Is there a possibility that there are two of them?” Remy asked LeBrun. He respected the man. Louis LeBrun wasn’t leopard, but he was very good at his job and he didn’t miss much.
“Of course,” LeBrun said, “but whoever harvested the bones is an expert. It has to be the same man every time. One could be doin’ the hangin’ while the other does the carvin’, but believe me, Remy, the carver is the same every single time. There’s no mistakin’ his work.”
“The murder itself is messy and careless,” Remy said, “but the harvester is meticulous. If you look at that altar, I’d have to say the same man put that together, payin’ special attention to every detail. There’s never one single drop of blood on his altar other than the bowl of blood provided by his victim, and if you look at the bowl, that’s not even messy.”
LeBrun nodded. “I don’ know how you’re goin’ to solve this one, Remy.” He swept his hand toward the body. “With all this every time he kills, you’d think he’d leave some forensic evidence behind, but the crime scene, in spite of the blood everywhere, is pristine, isn’t it?”
Remy steadfastly refused to look down at the partial leopard print. Forensics would find it, that and the fur, but he preferred not to help them. He and Drake needed time to warn the leopard community and get damage control underway before the news broke. He would suggest the fur and print were easy enough to fake, and clearly no animal had committed such a crime, not even the legendary Rougarou.
“Call me the minute you have anythin’ at all for me,” Remy instructed LeBrun. “I’m headin’ back to the station.”
LeBrun nodded, and Remy abruptly turned away. Gage fell into step beside him as he made his way to the sheriff’s boat. The moment he was in range to use his cell phone, Remy called Drake and told him everything that had transpired.
“Drake’s already on his way back. Robert and Dion are at the Inn with Saria and Bijou,” Remy told Gage. “I don’ like that one little bit. I can’t get back there to protect Bijou, and neither can you.”
Gage grinned at him. “I get your meanin’. The Lanoux boys are about to meet up with Lojos, Dash and Mahieu. They’ll be enjoyin’ their time with our brothers while we take care of business.”
“You know Saria won’ like it,” Remy said.
“Which is why you’re makin’ me make the call,” Gage guessed. “But that’s all right. I figure a man should be in trouble with only one woman at a time. From the way you’re tiptoein’ around I’d say your lady was truly aggravated with you. And probably for good reason.”
“Why would you say that?” Remy demanded.
“Because you’re smooth with all the ladies you don’ care about and a bit of a jackass with the ones you do care about.”
“Don’ bite my head off, Remy. She was in New Orleans four years ago. She came back for her father’s funeral. I’m just sayin’ you’re too close to this with her and aren’t considerin’ even the remote possibility. Just to be safe. Maybe she knew the other victims.”
Remy sighed. He detested that Gage was right. He couldn’t ignore any possibility, no matter how crazy it sounded. “Maybe, but she would have said.”
“Four years ago, she wasn’t thinkin’ about murder, Remy. And she hightailed it out of here the moment she buried her father. She might not have even known there was a murderer carvin’ people up.”
Remy nodded. He didn’t want to question Bijou about the murders or any of the victims. He’d already blown it with her so many times he was afraid if he kept making mistakes with her, she’d get it in her head to take off. She had enough money to go anywhere in the world and if she wanted to disappear, he had no doubt that she could make it happen.
“It’s a long shot, but I’ll ask. Right now, let’s concentrate on the Rousseau brothers and their friends. I’d also like to know the whereabouts of Rob Butterfield, her manager, and his little enforcer friend Jason Durang last night. If they don’ have a good alibi, I’ll be wantin’ to talk to them as well. And, Gage . . .” Remy waited until his brother turned back to face him. “If they alibi each other, and no one else can corroborate, that doesn’t count as a decent alibi.”
Gage sighed. “I was hopin’ this would never happen again. Especially on our turf.”
“I’m with you there, Gage,” Remy admitted. “This is one sick man. I thought it was bad enough when his victims were nothin’ but meat to him, but he stayed cold as ice, even through the butcherin’ of Cooper alive. Nothin’ else changed. His hands weren’t shakin’. He didn’t leave prints or any other evidence behind. But he knew Cooper. And he had some kind of grudge against him.”
“Or maybe Cooper decided he didn’t like bein’ told to break into old folks’ homes and beat them up. Maybe he’d had enough and was goin’ to start talkin’ to us,” Gage suggested.
“Or he was drunk and was talkin’ smack,” Remy said. “That’s more likely. If you’re right about the Rousseau brothers, they’d take action.”
“Or kill him for kicks,” Gage suggested.
LeBrun shook his head. “This wasn’t for kicks. Whoever carves those bones wasn’t doin’ it for the fun of it.”
“Is there a possibility that there are two of them?” Remy asked LeBrun. He respected the man. Louis LeBrun wasn’t leopard, but he was very good at his job and he didn’t miss much.
“Of course,” LeBrun said, “but whoever harvested the bones is an expert. It has to be the same man every time. One could be doin’ the hangin’ while the other does the carvin’, but believe me, Remy, the carver is the same every single time. There’s no mistakin’ his work.”
“The murder itself is messy and careless,” Remy said, “but the harvester is meticulous. If you look at that altar, I’d have to say the same man put that together, payin’ special attention to every detail. There’s never one single drop of blood on his altar other than the bowl of blood provided by his victim, and if you look at the bowl, that’s not even messy.”
LeBrun nodded. “I don’ know how you’re goin’ to solve this one, Remy.” He swept his hand toward the body. “With all this every time he kills, you’d think he’d leave some forensic evidence behind, but the crime scene, in spite of the blood everywhere, is pristine, isn’t it?”
Remy steadfastly refused to look down at the partial leopard print. Forensics would find it, that and the fur, but he preferred not to help them. He and Drake needed time to warn the leopard community and get damage control underway before the news broke. He would suggest the fur and print were easy enough to fake, and clearly no animal had committed such a crime, not even the legendary Rougarou.
“Call me the minute you have anythin’ at all for me,” Remy instructed LeBrun. “I’m headin’ back to the station.”
LeBrun nodded, and Remy abruptly turned away. Gage fell into step beside him as he made his way to the sheriff’s boat. The moment he was in range to use his cell phone, Remy called Drake and told him everything that had transpired.
“Drake’s already on his way back. Robert and Dion are at the Inn with Saria and Bijou,” Remy told Gage. “I don’ like that one little bit. I can’t get back there to protect Bijou, and neither can you.”
Gage grinned at him. “I get your meanin’. The Lanoux boys are about to meet up with Lojos, Dash and Mahieu. They’ll be enjoyin’ their time with our brothers while we take care of business.”
“You know Saria won’ like it,” Remy said.
“Which is why you’re makin’ me make the call,” Gage guessed. “But that’s all right. I figure a man should be in trouble with only one woman at a time. From the way you’re tiptoein’ around I’d say your lady was truly aggravated with you. And probably for good reason.”
“Why would you say that?” Remy demanded.
“Because you’re smooth with all the ladies you don’ care about and a bit of a jackass with the ones you do care about.”
