"Since I love the bayou," Bijou said, sweeping her hair back over her shoulder in an unintentional sexy gesture, "I'm fine with your nickname for me."
How old was Saria? Maybe she was older than he thought. "What the hell were you doin' runnin' the swamp at night with my crazy sister?"
He looked up as Saria came through the doorway, grinning at him. He had known she was there. She was leopard and moved in silence, but he was leopard and he'd scented her the moment she'd come out of her darkroom and entered the main part of the house.
Saria laughed at him. "You're not goin' to think I'm crazy when you see these pictures, Remy. I had Bijou write down everythin' she could remember, her impressions and even sounds she heard, and I did the same. We didn't discuss the crime scene so we wouldn't taint each other's memory."
"Good thinkin', Saria," Remy admitted.
"Comes from havin' brothers in law enforcement," she said cheerfully.
Saria set the pictures she'd developed on the table in front of him. For the first time she seemed to notice the lights were off. "What are you two doin' sittin' in the dark?"
"Visitin'," Remy answered. "Waitin' for you to get out of that room so I could give you a lecture on safety, which you clearly won't listen to, and drinkin' your very fine coffee."
Saria put her arm around Remy's neck and dropped a kiss on his cheek, a rare gesture of affection for his younger sister, and one that told him she'd been shaken by finding the murdered man. He patted her arm gently.
"It was Pete Morgan, wasn't it?" Saria asked, stepping back.
She wasn't fast enough. Remy caught the faint scent of fear and felt her body tremble. His sister was a tough little thing, but finding the body of a friend, one murdered in such a vicious, gruesome way, had to have been distressing. She flipped on the light and crossed to the counter to get a glass of water.
"Yes. I'm sorry, Saria. It must have been horrible for you."
She turned and faced him, leaning back against the counter. "How do you do it? Gage and the others break up fights most of the time and go after idiots, but you have to look at murders all the time."
He was very aware of Bijou across from him blinking rapidly as if the light bothered her. He knew better. She'd always acted tough, as if she didn't care, but she had a soft heart. "Most murders around here are pretty straightforward. Stupid arguments, revenge. That sort of thing, not a serial killer who rips apart people I know."
"I don' think I'll get that image out of my head for a long time, if ever," Bijou admitted.
Remy's gaze jumped to her face. He didn't need the light on to see that her eyes were haunted. He cursed his sister silently. "What exactly were you doing in the swamp tonight?"
"I was showing Bijou a nest I've been taking a series of photographs of. I landed a really big contract with a company that provides stock photos and they wanted the swamp at all hours along with the wildlife and plants," Saria answered. "I'm supposed to capture the feel of the swamp throughout all seasons."
Remy swallowed his sarcastic reply. Sending in the pictures of the murder would certainly show the company that gave his baby sister the contract what kind of danger they put her in, but Saria would ignore his bad humor and good advice. She went her own way and made her own decisions. He couldn't blame her. Maybe it was guilt that made him so overprotective of her now. When she was a child running wild and free in the swamp, he hadn't paid attention. Like Bijou, she hadn't had supervision and she'd been the adult in the home, not her drunken father.
"Remy." Saria sounded loving.
He looked up at her. She looked so young, but so adult. Just like Bijou. Of course they'd gravitated toward one another and been secretive about it. For good reason. He sighed.
"I had a good childhood," she said. "Stop beating yourself up. I love that you want to protect me, but I'm all grown up now. You can't take care of all of us."
"I can damn well try," Remy replied. His gaze jumped to Bijou's face.
She sent him a faint smile. "I see why you were so insistent on me explainin' the threats. You have a strong protective instinct, but really, Remy, you have enough family to look after without addin' me to the mix."
He wished that was all it was. "Don' kid yourself, Blue," he snapped without thinking.
Color swept into her face and she frowned at him. The hell with it. Let her figure it out on her own. Clearly, no matter how often he told himself she was a baby, his body said other things. He was leopard enough to know there was more going on than he could see. Instincts were strong in leopards and never once had he found himself in such a predicament.
Saria stared at him in shock. She looked from Bijou to Remy and shook her head, dropping into a chair.
"Tell me about your mother, Bijou," Remy ordered, slipping the photographs into an envelope without more than a cursory inspection. He had no doubt they were excellent. Saria's skills were known throughout the country, her reputation building fast. He didn't want to distress Bijou any further.
"My mother?" she echoed, her voice even softer, taking on more of that smoky, sultry flavor. "I don' know anythin' at all about her. Well, just what Bodrie told me. He met her backstage at a concert and she was strikin'. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. But honestly, Bodrie couldn't take his eyes off of most women."
Remy was aware of Saria's sharp glance from him to Bijou and back. She was smart, and she knew Remy didn't bother with small talk. He interrogated people for a reason. He was good at it, sounding conversational and interested, putting whoever he was interrogating at ease and slipping in questions so easily no one knew how much information they actually gave up. If he was bringing up the uncomfortable question of Bijou's mother, he was doing it for a reason.
He flicked one look at his sister, and she pressed her lips together, getting the message to keep her mouth closed.
"Did he ever talk about her family? Where she was from?"
Bijou shrugged. "He mentioned they came from someplace near Borneo. He always said she was exotic, but he never talked about her family. I got the impression they were dead."
"You have a lot of money, Blue," Remy pointed out. "Hire a PI and find out."
"Why?" Bijou regarded him steadily over the rim of her coffee mug. "Why would I want to do that now? It isn't as if Bod
rie wasn't known around the world. He went on world tours all the time. I ought to know. He dragged me along on most of them." She took another drink of the aromatic coffee and gave another shrug. "I needed them when I was a child. Even knowing someone was out there fightin' for me would have helped, but they didn'. They left me with him."
Again, he couldn't detect bitterness in her voice. Just resignation. She accepted that most people loved, even revered her father and thought he could do no wrong. She went her own way, made her life and made no apologies for it.
"I think it would be difficult," Saria said to Remy, "if I was Bijou and I inherited all that money, to trust anyone comin' out of the woodwork and claimin' they were related. Money makes people do crazy things."
"It comes with the territory, Saria," Bijou said. "I learned that in school. Real friendship is a treasure and that's why I always appreciated you. I knew if I came home, nothin' would have changed between us."
Remy was prouder in that moment of Saria than he'd ever been, and she was pretty extraordinary in his book. The fact that someone as wary as Bijou would have complete confidence in his sister when they hadn't seen one another in several years, made him respect Saria all the more.
Saria laughed, dispelling some of the tension. "I'm definitely that wild girl runnin' the swamps. I love it here. I don' need a lot of money to be happy here, Bijou."
Bijou's smile was faint. "I bought my little club with the hopes that I can draw a crowd. I'm renovatin' the little apartment above it."
"You're planning on livin' above the club?" Remy nearly came out of his chair, but managed to force himself to stay outwardly calm. Was she insane? Bijou had more money than most in the world, in her own right she was huge in the entertainment business, she'd admitted to death threats and she was going to reside with no security right above the club where she sang.
"I thought it was a good idea," Saria said, a little frown forming. She knew her brother's tone. His voice went low and soft and drawled more than ever. "What's wrong?" She looked from Bijou to Remy for an explanation.
"It's nothin', Remy," Bijou said. "I told you."
"Just a little matter of death threats," Remy explained to Saria. "You know, nothin' serious at all."
"I don' appreciate the sarcasm," Bijou said, her eyes widening. "I don' recall you bein' so sarcastic."