Leopard's Prey
Page 87

 Christine Feehan

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“Could I have done somethin’ to make this happen? A song? Ignorin’ someone? There’re so many people and I really try hard to autograph for as many as possible and talk a little with anyone I meet, but I’m exhausted after every concert and maybe I didn’t take the time I should have.” Bijou delivered the confession in a little rush.
Remy shook his head. “I don’ know what the trigger was for this man to begin killin’, Blue, or even if he has anythin’ to do with goin’ to your concerts, but it has nothin’ to do with you. I’ve run into killers before, many times, but no one has ever been this cold. Believe me, chere, this man was born a psychopath.”
Bijou shivered. “Why would he be followin’ me around?”
“If you were a target, he’d have killed you already,” Remy stated bluntly. “He doesn’t seem to have any trouble gettin’ to his victims. But you’ve really helped me by givin’ me this information, Blue. I’ll be able to ask the right questions now.”
He sat back in his chair and regarded her steadily. “Does your manager have an insurance policy on you?”
“Yes. He took one out ages ago, when I first signed with him.”
“Were you aware he served time in prison and that’s where he met Jason Durang?”
“I knew about Rob, of course, he disclosed that he’d gotten in trouble with the IRS and had served time. He hadn’t paid the employees’ taxes, but he knew Bodrie and he had a good reputation in the industry.”
“He’s a gambler.”
She nodded. “But he doesn’t gamble. He goes to regular meetings.”
“Is that what he tells you?”
She swallowed hard. “Remy, if you have somethin’ to tell me, just get to it.”
He shook his head. He had no proof. He couldn’t see her prissy manager as a cold-blooded killer. He’d thrown up when Remy had shown him the crime scene photographs, but Jason Durang was an altogether different proposition. He hadn’t looked away or even showed any reaction whatsoever. Neither had the Rousseau brothers. Regardless, he believed Rob Butterfield and Jason Durang presented a danger to her.
“What about Durang?”
“I’ve seen him with Butterfield a few times, but I’ve never talked to him. He always avoided me. I don’ know what he does.”
“I’ll drive you back home. I got a call from Drake and he wants me to meet him at the Inn to talk to Robert and Dion.”
“You don’ have to do that. I should check on the apartment and see how that’s comin’. I was hopin’ I could move in soon.”
She sounded innocent. Her gaze didn’t waver and there wasn’t a single hint of being coy. He was tempted to reach out and shake some sense into her. Whatever sin he’d committed she hadn’t forgiven him. She’d come to his office to get out of the Inn and away from Robert and his brother. She’d been glad to see him, she hadn’t even attempted to hide that fact from him, but she wasn’t planning a wedding anytime soon.
He didn’t know whether to be hurt or angry, or just plain both. “You know you’re probably pregnant with my child,” he said bluntly. “Birth control doesn’t work so well on leopards.” He sounded smug even to his own ears.
Her lashes fluttered, veiling her expression. Her lips made a little moue. He saw the “tell” in her fingers rather than her face. Her hands curled into fists, but she immediately straightened them and clasped them primly together in her lap.
“Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we, Remy? The idea was very scary when you first mentioned it, but I’ve had time to think about it and I have no doubts I’ll be able to handle havin’ a child.”
She sounded downright haughty, as if he wasn’t in the picture at all. He leaned toward her, his eyes locking with hers. “We’ll be able to handle it, Blue. There’s no more ‘I’ here. If you think you’re walkin’ out on me, you can just think again. In fact, set a damn weddin’ date and let’s just get it over with. Talk to your idiot lawyers, I’ll sign whatever prenup they want signed, but we’re gettin’ it done soon. And when I say soon, I mean no more than a couple of weeks.”
She scowled at him, her eyebrows emphasizing her complete disgust. Both hands went to her hips. She stalked to the door, yanked it open and turned back. “Remy Boudreaux, you don’ have a single romantic bone in your body and I’m ignorin’ everything you just said and might say from now on. In fact, it would be better if you just didn’t speak.”
The entire bull pen turned around, including Mahieu. His brother was the only one who dared to grin.
“Blue . . .” Remy started.
She cut him off. “Don’t say another word to me right now.” She actually held up her hand to stop him. “For your information, lookin’ hot and relyin’ on your charm only carries you so far. Bein’ good-lookin’ doesn’t give you a free pass to be a . . . a . . .”
“Jackass,” Mahieu supplied helpfully.
Bijou nodded her head. “Thank you, Mahieu. That fits perfectly.”
Several of the detectives coughed hard, turning their backs on their boss. Mahieu bowed. Bijou marched toward his brother, turning her back completely to him. She had a really nice sway to her hips that caught his eye.
“Mahieu would you mind givin’ me a lift back to the Inn?”