“The brothers had weighted somethin’ down and shoved it underwater. Both of us caught a glimpse of red material. Candy had been wearin’ a red nightgown in her bed when Juste and Jean brought the other girls in to see her.”

“You knew they killed this woman and you still didn’t come forward?” Remy demanded.

“You really are a worthless human being and an even worse leopard,” Drake snarled.

“I didn’t know for certain,” Robert defended his inaction. “I wasn’t about to try to bring up whatever the Rousseaus had put in the water.”

Remy felt Bijou press her face against his back. The anger had faded to be replaced by something altogether different. Fear had a distinct smell to it, and Bijou was afraid. His world was dark and violent. Most of the time he lived in the shadows. He tracked murderers and spent his time looking at crime scenes. Bijou lived very differently. She was alone a lot, but in some ways she was protected from the outside world. On tour she’d had a team of bodyguards to watch over her.

Being newly introduced to the world of leopards she had to be a little freaked out. Robert was no example of what they were like, she had to know that, but the rage in both Remy and Drake was tangible and that had to scare her. If nothing else, she had to consider whether or not she wanted to live in a world where the rules were kill or be killed. Make a mistake and the law of the jungle was brought down on one’s head. Robert was under a death sentence, and it wasn’t just talk. The more he revealed the extent of and his attitude toward the crimes he’d committed, the worse it was for him. No leopard could be jailed for long. The results would be catastrophic. To protect their lair and all of their kind, a rotten apple like Robert had to be dealt with immediately and permanently.

Remy wanted to comfort Bijou, but there was no way to do that. He glanced at his sister. There were tears in her eyes. She knew Robert had dug himself a deep hole. Robert and Dion had always been her friends. She had to be wondering how he could sink so low so fast.

Leopards didn’t tolerate drugs or alcohol. Most of the time none of the shifters bothered because one had to really suppress his leopard to feel the effects, and it took a lot. Robert had clearly chosen drugs and alcohol over his own leopard—another major sin in their world.

“Robert,” Remy said quietly. He kept breathing deep to keep his own leopard in check. The animal was difficult at the best of times and right now, he wanted free reign to take care of what he considered a traitor to their people. “You’re goin’ to take me to the site. I don’ want an argument so just don’ bother protesting. You know the Rousseau brothers are capable of murder. Did you think Jean and Juste might have killed Pete Morgan?” Remy asked grimly.

“I don’ know. I thought about it. Brent and I even talked about it. We were supposed to meet up with them that night, but they didn’t show. Juste had a run-in with Morgan a few nights earlier. He’d heard Bijou had asked around lookin’ for a guide into the swamp and someone recommended Pete Morgan. Juste confronted Morgan because accordin’ to Juste and Jean, he had no business actin’ like a guide. Pete was a shrimper and fisherman and they didn’t want him . . .”

Drake leapt past Remy, a blur of motion, claws raking the other side of Robert’s face, furious that Robert knew Saria and every other guide in the swamp might be in danger from the Rousseau brothers, and he handn’t come forward to tell. Robert ducked, trying to scramble backward in the chair, but Drake had been far too fast and he was seconds too late. Blood ran down the other side of his face and trickled onto his shirt in four tiny streams.

Bijou shuddered, twisting her fingers deeper into the back of Remy’s shirt. She made a soft sound of pure distress in her throat. Remy wanted to fold her into his arms, hold her next to his heart to shelter her from everything else. He reached behind him to run his fingers down her arm in a small, reassuring caress. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

“They were expandin’ their business and wanted money from anyone guidin’ in the swamp. Pete laughed at them and refused to pay,” Robert howled. “It wasn’t my idea. I told them no one livin’ and workin’ around the bayous or swamps would pay, but they wouldn’t listen. They said all they needed was a couple of good examples and everyone would get in line.”

“So you knew all this and still you kept quiet. Saria guides tourists,” Remy pointed out. “My sister. The wife of your leader, and your friend.”

“They didn’t threaten Saria,” Robert denied. “They didn’t.”

“You’re going to write this all down and then you’re going to lead us into the swamp where they conduct these rituals,” Remy said. “Don’ shake your head, Robert. You’ve broken just about every single law we have. I’m takin’ these two down, and you’re goin’ to help me do it. I want them for the break-ins and the beatin’s. Even if I can’t prove they killed Pete Morgan and Ryan Cooper, I’ll have them behind bars, and that should give me more time to find evidence they’ve been committin’ these murders if they have.”

“We’ll go as soon as it’s dark,” Drake said. “The three of us will go in to uncover the evidence and see what’s there. I’ll want your brothers, Remy, to be on guard here. We’ll have to bring Dion back and put him in protective custody—ours. I trust our leopards to guard him. He won’t like it, but that’s too bad.”