Leopard's Prey

to be a little patient with Remy until he figures things out. He’s got a protective streak a mile wide when it comes to you.”
    “I’d love to feel very special, Mahieu, but the truth is, Remy feels protective over everyone. That’s why he’s a cop.”
    She went inside and stepped back to allow him to lead the way. The truth was, everyone was going to stare at her, and she didn’t mind Mahieu running interference. He was a big man, much like his brother, all muscle with that smooth, fluid way of walking. He exuded confidence, just like all the Boudreaux brothers and Saria. She wanted to be like that and was determined that she would be, given a few months. For too long she’d tried to be someone she wasn’t and in the end she just couldn’t sustain it.
    Following Mahieu through the bull pen, she rounded a corner to find the homicide division. Remy’s office was in the corner, with several desks out on the floor. Mahieu waved her to a chair, but there were several policemen looking at her, staring, some sporting grins. She didn’t feel like sitting there on display for them all. Mahieu went over to talk with someone he knew, and she wandered around the room, trying to get a feel for Remy’s work.
    Set up in the middle of the largest wall was a huge whiteboard with pictures of Pete Morgan and the altar. Alongside that were pictures of Ryan Cooper and the altar. The pictures were in horrible, gruesome detail, and although it was one of those situations where one could almost not stop looking at the train wreck, she managed to shift her gaze.
    In a line down either side of the grisly murder pictures were photographs of men. Her manager, Rob Butterfield, and his friend Jason Durang were among them. Bob Carson was up on the wall as well. She recognized a few other faces from the men who had been in her club and had harassed her. She couldn’t imagine why any of them had been singled out and would be considered suspects.
    Above the pictures, a map caught her eye. It was of both the United States and Europe. There were red pins in various cities. She moved closer and studied the map. It took a moment or two for the significance to sink in. She stood there, staring, biting her lip, suddenly very much afraid.
    “Come away from there,” Remy said.
    She whirled around to face him, one hand going defensively to her throat. She felt the color drain out of her face. “What is this, Remy?”
    “Don’ be lookin’ at that, Blue,” he cautioned. “Come into my office. You shouldn’t see that. There’s no reason.” He took her hand and tugged.
    “No, I need to know. What is this?”
    He sighed, his fingers stroking the back of her hand in a caress. “It’s a murder board. It helps me keep all the facts straight. Putting everything up, I can work the pieces like a puzzle until eventually it all comes together.”
    “You have Rob Butterfield up there. You even have Bob.”
    “I’m not calling them suspects, but they are persons of interest. All of them were here four years ago when the first series of murders happened here in New Orleans. All of these men were. I have to rule people out and so far, I haven’t quite gotten there with them, but I’m certain I will. Among others, I’m talkin’ with them now. Of course not together. I like to keep my persons of interest separated so they can’t come up with the same story.”
    “Why would they even be suspects?” She wasn’t buying his “persons of interest” story for a moment.
    “They were in the wrong place at the wrong time with no real alibi.” He gave a careful, casual shrug. “Come away from here now.”
    Bijou resisted the tug on her hand. “Why are all those cities flagged with red pins?”
    Remy went very still, her actions suddenly really catching his attention. “Do you really want to know?”
    “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” she replied. Her heart pounded hard. Her mouth went dry. She felt the rise of her leopard coming close to the surface as if offering to take her place.
    “These are his kills over the last four years. The first that we found with the same pattern was in New York City.”
    Bijou closed her eyes briefly. “And the days, months and year written above each pin are
when
he killed?”
    Remy nodded grimly. “Four kills in each city. Even in Europe, but we know of only three sites there.”
    She
had
to tell him. She felt sick to her stomach. “I need to sit down, Remy. Maybe a glass of water?”
    Remy regarded