Leopard's Prey

murder in his city or his bayou or swamp personally.
    There was little moon and the water appeared black and shiny as the airboat skimmed over it. Tall grassy reeds rose in columns on either side of them, forming a narrow canal. The grasses were thick and impenetrable, making it impossible to see over, around or through them. Gage, Remy’s brother, handled the airboat easily, guiding it through the treacherous waters without hesitation.
    “You sure about this, Gage? The same killer? When we are absolutely certain, we are going to have to inform the FBI,” Remy said. His gut already gave him the answer. Gage didn’t make mistakes, not when it came to murder.
    Gage Boudreaux was sheriff of the parish. He and his men were responsible for bayous as well as the outlying areas. Right now, he was running the airboat with a grim look on his face. He felt exactly the same way about murder as Remy did.
    “The body was found at one of the camps on the edge of the swamp, on the other side of Fenton’s Marsh.”
    Remy swore under his breath. “Saria found the body, didn’t she? She’s still creepin’ around the swamp at night taking photographs. I was hopin’ Drake would get that girl under control.”
    Gage snorted. “Our sister has never been under anyone’s control, Remy, and you know it. Her husband is wrapped around her little finger. He’s no help. In any case, she knew better than to disturb a crime scene. She took pictures just in case someone or something came along when she went for help.”
    “There’s no cell phone service out in the swamp. She has no business out there without backup. Anythin’ could happen. And this is not the first dead body she’s discovered out there. You’d think Drake would have enough sense to know she isn’t safe alone in the swamp at night,” Remy snapped.
    Sometimes his much younger sister made him crazy. She was a law unto herself, and she had been since she was a toddler. Their drunken father forgot her half the time and most of the boys were off doing their own thing, so she ran wild—and was still running wild even married to a man like Drake Donovan, who was certainly no pushover around anyone but her.
    Saria had no problem going into the swamp at night for her photography. Granted, she made a lot of money on her photos and her reputation as a wildlife photographer was growing, but the things she did were dangerous and she had to stop. That was all there was to it.
    “Whoa, bro,” Gage said. “I see the storm clouds gatherin’. Gettin’ into it with Saria is useless. You’d be talkin’ to the wind. She’d go all silent, nod her head as if she understood completely and then she’d just do whatever the hell she wanted to do.” Gage shrugged. “Although, if she listens to anyone, it’s you.”
    “I wasn’t plannin’ on confrontin’ Saria,” Remy stated. He had long ago given up confronting her directly unless the circumstances were dire. She always seemed to know if he was willing to back up his threat with action or not. Locking her up was the only—and extremely dangerous—solution. Saria tended to retaliate as any self-respecting leopard would.
    He didn’t want any more details on the crime scene. He liked to make his own first impressions, so he didn’t want to talk about what Saria found in the swamp. The serial killer from four years earlier had hit New Orleans hard, leaving behind four dead bodies over a period of two months, and then he was gone. If this was the same killer, Remy feared this wouldn’t be the only body found, and no one would be safe until he was caught. The swamps and bayous were lonely and took in a lot of territory. The killer would have a big playing field.
    Remy was Cajun, born and raised, but he was also leopard—a shifter. A small clan of leopards had made their homes along the bayous. He didn’t just take the form of a big cat—he was leopard with all the traits of a beast. The wildness in him was always close to the surface. Passion ran just as hot as tempers. Jealousy and fury were every bit as strong as love and loyalty. There was no way to fully submerge their animal natures. They lived by a different set of rules and answered to their lair leader—Drake Donovan. Theirs was a ruthless, brutal set of laws, but necessary to keep their people under control. Some married leopards, others married outsiders who usually had no idea and never would. It was necessary to keep their ability to shift absolutely