"Were the two of you inside?" Remy asked, lifting the trunk of her car and rummaging for her climbing bag. The thought of the suave, wealthy, sophisticated famous sculptor and Bijou together in his backseat was enough to have claws bursting through aching fingers. He breathed away the pain and forced his leopard under control.
"No, we weren't inside." Impatience edged Bijou's voice. Her teeth were chattering.
"We were really worried about you, Bijou," Gage intervened, shooting a glare at his brother. "You obviously ended up in the bayou. We'd like to know what happened."
Bijou blinked back tears. "No one can be nice to me right now, Gage," she cautioned. She hated the quiver in her voice. She would not turn into a baby in front of Remy. She pressed a hand to her mouth. She needed to be alone, just for a few minutes to compose herself. It would help if she'd stop shaking.
Remy mouthed the word see to his brother, frowning in caution. The last thing he wanted was for Bijou to cry in front of everyone and then blame him. He wouldn't be able to be cool with her tears and that would only embarrass her more. Gage might not like the way he handled things, but he knew Bijou better than she knew herself.
Arnaud touched Bijou's arm awkwardly. "We'll get you out of here in time for your performance tonight."
Bijou hadn't even thought of singing at the club. How could she have forgotten? She worked so hard to pull the club together, but all she wanted to do right now was crawl in bed and pull the covers over her head--after a long hot shower of course.
"You'll be awesome tonight, Bijou," Arnaud assured her as if guessing her thoughts. "You're the consummate professional. You'll handle it just fine."
Now she really had no choice but to buck up and be the professional, which was probably why Arnaud had said it. He knew she was an emotional wreck and was bolstering her up. He was right too. Both had survived when things could have gone very bad at any time. She took a deep breath and let it out.
"I've got the rope," Remy called down to them, studying the webbing around the tree. The original carabiners were in place. The ropes had been cut off past those carabiners. He made short work of tying new knots, grateful for his time in the service and all the special training he'd had.
Arnaud sent Bijou up first and he followed right behind her. Once they were safe, Remy stood absolutely still, almost without breathing, drinking in the sight of Bijou. She did smell like the bayou, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to him was that she was alive. He didn't give a damn what she said or thought. He yanked her into his arms, holding her tightly against his body, his hands moving over her, reassuring himself she was uninjured. She didn't melt into him, but rather held herself very stiff and aloof. Yeah, he was in trouble.
Bijou pulled away from him almost immediately. "I'm getting you all wet and you'll have to throw away those clothes."
"Do you think I give a damn about clothes? You could have died. What were you thinkin'? You should have stayed put and waited for me."
She shook her head, a slow crimson creeping up her neck at the memory of waking to the ruined room and having to possibly face Saria, not knowing where Remy went or even if he intended to return. "No, Remy, you should have stayed put."
She turned on her heel and walked away from him. Head up. Shoulders square. She looked regal in spite of the mud and wet clothes. She looked . . . magnificent.
"You got it bad, bro," Gage whispered as he walked past Remy, a wide grin on his face. "You might want to close your mouth before somethin' flies into or out of it."
Bijou went straight to her car and stood, unmoving, looking at the damage. Arnaud came up beside her, setting Remy's teeth on edge. She didn't look at Arnaud as if she wanted nothing to do with him.
"What a mess," Arnaud said. "Why would someone do this?"
Remy watched Bijou carefully. She inhaled sharply and stiffened. She knew. She'd caught the scent. The leopard in her was merging with her, becoming part of her, and with her acute sense of smell, she recognized the scent of the man who been stalking her.
"Who is it, Blue?" Remy asked.
She shook her head.
"You know. He trashed my apartment this morning and left behind the picture of me kissing you. It wasn't pretty, Bijou. He's escalating his behavior."
"It doesn't make sense. Bob Carson grew up in Bodrie's house. I've known him my entire life. He wouldn't do this."
Remy's eyes met Gage's. Gage nodded. The moment he'd caught Carson's scent out on the road, he was certain it was the photographer who was stalking Bijou.
"Don' kid yourself, honey," Remy said. "Tell me why he would take an eight-year-old child to a hotel room with a bunch of men and try to pump her full of drugs. He was probably figuring he'd get rid of you and Bodrie would leave everything to him."
"You did remember him then. You didn't say a word."
"I had a very primitive reaction to seeing him--I wanted to pound him into the ground." Remy paused, his gaze holding hers. "And you didn't say anything."
"He has no reason to want to hurt me."
"Of course he does. His mother lived with Bodrie until your mother came along. He probably fantasized he was Bodrie's son. If he could prove he was, he would have come forward already, so that means his fantasy became a reality in his head. You took it all away from him, the house, the women, the drugs, the lifestyle. He became a photographer and inserted himself back into Bodrie's life, and once again he was somebody. But he couldn't have it all because there you are, standin' in his way."
Bijou shook her head.
"On one hand, he probably fantasizes you're his sister, and on the other, he wants you gone so he can inherit."
She scowled at Remy. "I'm not stupid, I have a will."
"Which is probably the only reason you aren't dead. He hasn't figured out a way to inherit everythin' from you."
"I don' know if it's him," Bijou insisted. "You can't do anything without proof anyway, so don' go after him, Remy. Please. I have to think about this."
"You know it's him," Remy said quietly. "Bijou, you don' have a mean bone in your body. This man is escalatin' in his behavior and we both know it. That's why you even considered allowin' me to see the letters, otherwise you would never have said a word about them. You knew you were in trouble with him."
"He's got to be ill," Bijou said. "To do this, he has to be ill."
She touched the hood of her car. The tires were slashed and punctured repeatedly, obviously with a knife. The seats had been slashed and punctured, the insides ripped out and thrown all over the ground. On the outside of both sides of the car, a giant eye had been carved into the doors. "I see you" had been keyed in with crude sticklike letters. She'd seen the letters so many times with the same phrase on the walls of her home as well as in Bodrie's homes.
Bijou shivered. Remy strode over to the sheriff's car and pulled out a jacket. Arnaud simply stood observing everyone.
Gage cleared his throat. "We'll have a tow truck bring up your vehicle, but most likely it's a total loss. You might be able to recover some of your things though."
Arnaud shrugged. "I didn't have anything I couldn't replace with me. Mostly my climbing gear and things I use for my sculptures. Rocks, petrified wood, different mediums I mix together. Those can be replaced. It will just take a little time to find the ones I need again." He patted the bag at his waist. "At least I didn't lose these rocks. It's what I came here for."
"I'm so sorry about your truck and your things, Arnaud," Bijou said. "I feel like it's my fault this happened. I'll replace . . ."
Arnaud held up his hand. "Don't be silly, Bijou. I'm just sorry this man is targeting you." He glanced at his watch. "You don't
have much time to clean up before your show. Maybe the sheriff wouldn't mind giving us both a lift into town."
Remy wrapped the coat around Bijou's shivering body. "You don' have to do that show tonight, Blue. We can tell the band to cover for you."
It was tempting. She was exhausted, confused, afraid, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and lick her wounds. They were all waiting. Arnaud with his expressionless face, just watching her. Remy and Gage clearly wanting her to go back to the Inn and forget about singing in the club, especially with Carson running loose. She knew he'd be there too. He always showed up to her performances.
She lifted her chin. If she didn't sing tonight, Carson won. His ugly behavior had already taken its toll on her, but she couldn't allow him to win, especially after what he'd done to Arnaud. She could smell Bob Carson all over her vehicle. She didn't know why her sense of smell was so acute, but she definitely knew he'd been the one to destroy Arnaud's SUV and her car.
"I'll be singin' tonight at the club, and if I don' get cleaned up fast, they'll have to fumigate the place after I leave."
Gage gestured toward his car. "Your chariot. I've got a couple of officers on the way. They'll take care of the tow truck and photograph your car and all the evidence here, so Arnaud, if you'd like a ride as well, I'll be happy to take you back to your hotel."
"I'd appreciate that," Arnaud said.
"You'll both have to ride in the back so I can hose off the seats after," Gage added with a small grin.
"I can't say as I blame you," Bijou said. "I'm holdin' my breath as best I can so I don' have to smell me."
"Let's hope Saria doesn't make you hose off outside," Gage teased.
Remy kept glancing back at Bijou huddled in the backseat. She didn't say another word, but stared out the window, her face set. Sad. Thoughtful. He was certain he was right about Bob Carson--that the night he'd interrupted them in the hotel so many years ago, the man had intended she die there. It made sense. If Carson believed Bijou and her mother had pushed Carson and his mother from Bodrie's life, he would certainly want her out of the way.
He made a mental note to check on what happened to Carson's mother and where they'd lived during the years they'd been away from Bodrie's mansion. He glanced again into the rearview mirror. He should have been gentler with Bijou. She'd been through hell. She looked as if she had smudges under her eyes. and he winced a little when he saw the faint bruising along her neck. The rake marks on her arm could only have been put there by a leopard. He suspected she'd done that to herself without realizing what happened.