Leopard's Prey (47 page)

Laughing, Bijou hurried to the car with a wave of her hand. Saria and her brothers definitely enjoyed teasing one another and they already had begun to include her in the warmth of their circle. She had come home looking for her white knight and she’d found him. Remy was everything she remembered and more.

She would never forget his face, the way he yanked her out of the hotel room and shook the living daylights out of her. He’d cared. He’d been alarmed. That had been the moment she realized much more would have gone on in that room than her simply overdosing. She saw it in his eyes. In the expression on his face. He’d been horrified and he’d been angry. She would never forget his eyes as long as she lived.

Everything about Remy was beautiful to her, even his famous temper. He would always be a cop, but he would be her cop and she knew she could live with that. She had a home and a family and Remy had given both to her. There was no way to describe to someone else how much she loved him. The intensity of her emotions when she was around him sometimes overwhelmed her.

She drove carefully in Saria’s car. She loved fast cars and often went to racetracks and drove. She’d never mentioned that little secret to Remy, or the fact that she owned more than one high performance car. He’d never asked her much about her life and he was in for a few surprises. She did like to live simply, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like nice things – or really fast cars.

Laughing at the thought of his pained expression when she told him, she pulled up to the police station. At night it looked different. Somber. Even haunted. During the day people were in and out, but at night there was only a single valiant light over the door and the place appeared to be deserted.

As she walked up the stairs to the station door, she glanced around her. Night had closed in completely and fog had drifted in. Lights from street and stores appeared dull yellow halos, unable to penetrate the gathering fog. She shivered and rubbed her arms. That other inside of her was restless and she could tell the female leopard’s mood was affecting her as well. She told herself she was too imaginative and the fog and deserted streets were making her edgy.

Much more sober, she walked through the station, heading back toward Remy’s office. There were only a couple of people working and they looked up and waved. She lifted a hand as she went through to the homicide bull pen. Remy didn’t appear to be in his office. She glanced at her watch. She was a little late. Had he left her? Forgot? That wasn’t his style.

Her mouth felt dry and her heart beat too fast. The other pushed at her, wanting her freedom. Bijou was too new in the ways of leopard to know what to do to settle her down. She took several deep breaths and prayed Remy would hurry up.

A woman came around the corner, both hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. She smiled at Bijou. “Remy asked me to tell you he stepped out for a couple of minutes. He’ll be right back. He’s just down the street at the gallery. I’m Angelina, the computer nerd.”

Bijou smiled at her, relief flooding. Remy wouldn’t be gone long, and he’d know what to do. “I’m Bijou Breaux.”

“Remy’s woman,” Angelina said. “You’ve made him very happy.”

Bijou liked Angelina immediately. “I hope so. He certainly makes me happy.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?” Angelina asked.

“That would be lovely,” Bijou said.

She wandered around the room, looking at the desks and computers, marveling at how the men and women working there solved murders and various other crimes. Her path took her nearly straight to the murder board. She tried not to look, but it was impossible not to stare at the horrendous pictures of a man brutally murdered.

“You shouldn’t look at that,” Angelina said. “It will give you nightmares.”

“It’s like the train wreck you can’t stop watching, isn’t it?” Bijou asked as she took the coffee. Her gaze went back to the board. “It’s almost mesmerizing. Who could do such things to another human being?”

“Sadly, Bijou, working here, I’ve learned human beings can be very cruel to one another. I stopped being shocked many years ago – until this killer came along.”

Bijou studied the altar. It was so bizarre. “Is that really a bowl of blood and a human hand? His heart? This looks like something from a horror movie, not real life…” She trailed off, peering closer.

Her breath rushed out of her lungs. Her hands went numb. The coffee mug crashed to the floor. “Angelina,” she said without turning around. “Where did you say Remy went?”

“To the gallery. Are you all right?”

“No. No, I’m not all right. Call everyone. Call them right now and send them to the gallery.” She ripped her phone from her purse and took off running, hitting the only other number she had on speed dial besides Remy.

Saria answered almost immediately. Bijou burst out of the station house. “Remy’s in trouble, Saria. Send Gage and everyone else to the gallery just down from his station. He’s there now.”

She yelled into the phone as she tried to run down the street toward the gallery. Her high heels slowed her down so she kicked them off and ran in her stockings.

“What do you mean?”

“The stone. In the altar. It was Arnaud’s. Remy went there to talk to him. I may be crazy but that stone is unmistakable.” She was breathing too hard to continue talking so she just ran, her heart in her throat.

Her leopard had been trying to warn her something was wrong, but she hadn’t yet gotten used to trusting her other side. There was no doubt in her mind Remy was in trouble. Everything in her screamed that he needed her. Every hair in her body stood up. Goose bumps ran up and down her arms.

“Gage says wait for help,” Saria screamed into the phone.

She’d forgotten to end the call. She wasn’t waiting. Was Gage crazy? Maybe he didn’t believe her, but it all fell into place for her. All the clues that had been right in front of her.

Arnaud was completely disconnected from people. He didn’t view them as human beings. Even his sculpture was about life-forms, not human beings. He was enormously strong from all the climbing he did over the years. He traveled all over the world and he went to most of her concerts. He had tremendous skill with cutting tools.

Remy wondered why the harvester had taken the same set of bones. Clearly he’d lost the first set. They must have been in the SUV that had gone into the bayou. Arnaud was merely replacing what he’d lost. He’d actually said to her that there was nothing in the vehicle that couldn’t be replaced. He’d said he was behind on his timetable. And his sculpture… Oh, God, why hadn’t she noticed? Why hadn’t it registered? All those faces. His victims giving back.

“Please, please, please,” she chanted. “Don’ let me be too late.”

She wrenched the door to the gallery open and ran inside without hesitation. Skidding to a halt, she could see the light coming from under the door to the back room. Heart pounding, she walked barefoot through the gallery to the door. Her mouth was dry. Her leopard was raging. Her heart felt wild and out of control.

Bijou took a deep breath and opened the door. Arnaud was standing over Remy’s body, staring down at his face with a look very close to love. Remy was lying motionless on the long table. Beside him was a spread-open leather pouch. The light shining down into Remy’s face also illuminated the array of cutting tools Arnaud had spread out beside the detective.

“Arnaud?” she called out to the artist.

He looked up at her and smiled. “He’s perfect, Bijou. So perfect.”

“Yes, he is.” She stepped closer, desperate to see if Remy was still alive. “We’re supposed to go to dinner tonight. He’s late.”

“We’re working,” Arnaud told her. “I tried sketching his eyes, but I couldn’t re-create that look I wanted. It was there the other night, and then it was gone.”

“Yes. I remember.” Bijou poured enthusiasm into her voice. She still clutched the cell phone, the line open between her and Saria. She stepped closer. She was about halfway to the table. “He was jealous of you. He looked like a hunter.”

Arnaud’s head jerked up. “That’s it. That’s it exactly, Bijou. You always get it. A large jungle cat about to leap on his prey.” He frowned. “You can’t stay. I have work to do.”

“I know you do.” She used her most soothing voice, edging closer still. “Why isn’t Remy moving? He looks like he’s asleep, but his eyes are open.”

Arnaud shrugged. “Just a little ketamine. He can’t move. He has to stay still, but I need his eyes to get that penetrating look.”

“He’s alive?”

“Of course.” He waved her away. “I really need to work, Bijou.”

“I just have to ask about the bones.”

“The bones?” he echoed, already distracted. He moved closer to the table, to the instruments spread out before him. His hand was inches away from a cutting tool.

“Yes. You took bones and some of them were lost in the SUV when Bob Carson pushed it into the bayou. What was so important about the bones? I know you needed to replace them.”

Her heart beat so hard she was terrified Arnaud could hear. She was up against the table now, right next to Remy’s head. His eyes shifted toward her. Those beautiful green eyes, filled with intelligence and awareness.

She reached for her leopard, bringing her close to the surface just in case. Breathing deep to keep from shifting, she laid one hand on Remy’s chest, right over his heart. Protective. She was in position now and felt a little calmer.

“I use them for my work.” He sounded impatient. Dismissive. She’d heard that tone many times and had dutifully taken her cue, slipping out of his studio and leaving him to get on with his creations.

“In what way?” Where were the police? She’d told Angelina to call everyone. She expected even the bomb squad to show up. How much time had passed? She knew Arnaud better than anyone. When it came to his work, he wouldn’t be distracted for too long.

Bijou planned out every move in her mind. Exactly what she would do if Arnaud picked up a cutting tool. Remy tried to tell her with his eyes to get out, but she would never leave him. She smiled at Arnaud and insisted he answer. “I need to know, Arnaud.”

He sighed. “I dry the bones, grind them up into a fine powder and use them as part of the sculptures for texture. The bones bring my work to life.”

Bijou could see that he wanted her gone. She was losing him to his art. “What about the altar? What’s important about the altar?”

“I saw one in Haiti but it wasn’t perfect. It was beautiful, but not perfect. I wanted to perfect it, so I read about them and signed my work. It was my signature. How could you not recognize my signature? Now go. I have work to do.” He waved her away and then, as always, seemed to forget she existed.

He reached for a wicked-looking, razor-sharp implement, and Bijou leapt over the table, using the spring action of her leopard. She hit Arnaud full in the chest, knocking him backward and down to the floor, landing on top of him, one hand pinning down the hand holding the knife.

“Bijou.” Arnaud looked up at her, surprised. He didn’t struggle. Didn’t attempt to get away. He was enormously strong, but he didn’t even tense up. “Your eyes are like a cat’s, like his. They glow and change color. But you’ve got that look. The look of the hunter.”

Behind her she heard movement. “I am a hunter, Arnaud,” she whispered. “So is Remy. Only you saw that in us.”

“We’ve got him now,” Gage said. “Move away from him. The ambulance is here as well for Remy, Bijou. Just back away.”

“Give me the knife, Arnaud,” she said as gently as possible. “Don’ hurt him. He doesn’t understand what he’s done.” She glanced back at Gage in warning.

“Bijou, back off,” Gage ordered.

Arnaud put the knife in her upturned palm. His fingers stroked her wrist. “I understand, Bijou. It just doesn’t matter the way you all think it does.”

Gage reached down and pulled Bijou to her feet. She looked around her at the roomful of policemen, all with guns drawn. Arnaud didn’t even struggle. He actually smiled at her. Calm. Serene. Forgiving.

Tears running down her face, she caught at Remy’s limp hand and brought it to her heart as they waited for the police to give the okay to the paramedics. His green eyes locked with hers and she felt herself tumble into him. Right where she belonged.

“Don’ look so sappy,” Gage warned in a whisper. “He’s goin’ to have
lots
to say to you about this when he can talk again.”

20

The wedding was supposed to be small and simple. Bijou realized Cajuns just didn’t work that way. Not the Cajuns who lived along the swamps and had big noisy families and could shift into leopards. At least there were no reporters, although picture taking was at an all-time high.

Remy swept her into his arms and they floated around the dance floor, surrounded by laughter and the sound of ice cubes tinkling in glasses. She stared up at his face.
Remy.
There never had been anyone else, and there never could be.

“You know this doesn’t change anything,” Remy said suddenly, bending his head to kiss her fiercely. Possessively. Something he did often since he was out of the hospital.

She kissed him back just as fiercely, uncaring they were surrounded by his brothers and she’d be teased something terrible the moment they could pounce. When he lifted his head she did a little eyelash batting and tried for innocent and puzzled. “Do you mean we’re not really married? I don’ understand.”

“I
told
you to get out of there.” His eyes went glacier blue, always a bad sign. “You could have been killed. I know you heard me. Maybe not out loud, but you knew I wanted you out of there, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted complacently. She snuggled closer to him.

“Gage told you to stay the hell out of there, to wait for backup, didn’t he?” Remy insisted. “And you heard him.”

She looked up at him. Met his beautiful cat’s eyes. “Yes, I did.” Totally unrepentant.

“And you ignored all of us.”

She smiled at him. “Of course. Did you really think I’d leave you with him? He’s a genius, an amazing creative artist, but he’s totally insane. The FBI is taking over from here. They’ll put him in a hospital for the criminally insane.”