“He has no reason to want to hurt me.”
“Of course he does. His mother lived with Bodrie until your mother came along. He probably fantasized he was Bodrie’s son. If he could prove he was, he would have come forward already, so that means his fantasy became a reality in his head. You took it all away from him, the house, the women, the drugs, the lifestyle. He became a photographer and inserted himself back into Bodrie’s life, and once again he was somebody. But he couldn’t have it all because there you are, standin’ in his way.”
Bijou shook her head.
“On one hand, he probably fantasizes you’re his sister, and on the other, he wants you gone so he can inherit.”
She scowled at Remy. “I’m not stupid, I have a will.”
“Which is probably the only reason you aren’t dead. He hasn’t figured out a way to inherit everythin’ from you.”
“I don’ know if it’s him,” Bijou insisted. “You can’t do anything without proof anyway, so don’ go after him, Remy. Please. I have to think about this.”
“You know it’s him,” Remy said quietly. “Bijou, you don’ have a mean bone in your body. This man is escalatin’ in his behavior and we both know it. That’s why you even considered allowin’ me to see the letters, otherwise you would never have said a word about them. You knew you were in trouble with him.”
“He’s got to be ill,” Bijou said. “To do this, he has to be ill.”
She touched the hood of her car. The tires were slashed and punctured repeatedly, obviously with a knife. The seats had been slashed and punctured, the insides ripped out and thrown all over the ground. On the outside of both sides of the car, a giant eye had been carved into the doors. “I see you” had been keyed in with crude sticklike letters. She’d seen the letters so many times with the same phrase on the walls of her home as well as in Bodrie’s homes.
Bijou shivered. Remy strode over to the sheriff’s car and pulled out a jacket. Arnaud simply stood observing everyone.
Gage cleared his throat. “We’ll have a tow truck bring up your vehicle, but most likely it’s a total loss. You might be able to recover some of your things though.”
Arnaud shrugged. “I didn’t have anything I couldn’t replace with me. Mostly my climbing gear and things I use for my sculptures. Rocks, petrified wood, different mediums I mix together. Those can be replaced. It will just take a little time to find the ones I need again.” He patted the bag at his waist. “At least I didn’t lose these rocks. It’s what I came here for.”
“I’m so sorry about your truck and your things, Arnaud,” Bijou said. “I feel like it’s my fault this happened. I’ll replace . . .”
Arnaud held up his hand. “Don’t be silly, Bijou. I’m just sorry this man is targeting you.” He glanced at his watch. “You don’t have much time to clean up before your show. Maybe the sheriff wouldn’t mind giving us both a lift into town.”
Remy wrapped the coat around Bijou’s shivering body. “You don’ have to do that show tonight, Blue. We can tell the band to cover for you.”
It was tempting. She was exhausted, confused, afraid, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and lick her wounds. They were all waiting. Arnaud with his expressionless face, just watching her. Remy and Gage clearly wanting her to go back to the Inn and forget about singing in the club, especially with Carson running loose. She knew he’d be there too. He always showed up to her performances.
She lifted her chin. If she didn’t sing tonight, Carson won. His ugly behavior had already taken its toll on her, but she couldn’t allow him to win, especially after what he’d done to Arnaud. She could smell Bob Carson all over her vehicle. She didn’t know why her sense of smell was so acute, but she definitely knew he’d been the one to destroy Arnaud’s SUV and her car.
“I’ll be singin’ tonight at the club, and if I don’ get cleaned up fast, they’ll have to fumigate the place after I leave.”
Gage gestured toward his car. “Your chariot. I’ve got a couple of officers on the way. They’ll take care of the tow truck and photograph your car and all the evidence here, so Arnaud, if you’d like a ride as well, I’ll be happy to take you back to your hotel.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Arnaud said.
“You’ll both have to ride in the back so I can hose off the seats after,” Gage added with a small grin.
“I can’t say as I blame you,” Bijou said. “I’m holdin’ my breath as best I can so I don’ have to smell me.”
“Let’s hope Saria doesn’t make you hose off outside,” Gage teased.
Remy kept glancing back at Bijou huddled in the backseat. She didn’t say another word, but stared out the window, her face set. Sad. Thoughtful. He was certain he was right about Bob Carson—that the night he’d interrupted them in the hotel so many years ago, the man had intended she die there. It made sense. If Carson believed Bijou and her mother had pushed Carson and his mother from Bodrie’s life, he would certainly want her out of the way.
He made a mental note to check on what happened to Carson’s mother and where they’d lived during the years they’d been away from Bodrie’s mansion. He glanced again into the rearview mirror. He should have been gentler with Bijou. She’d been through hell. She looked as if she had smudges under her eyes. and he winced a little when he saw the faint bruising along her neck. The rake marks on her arm could only have been put there by a leopard. He suspected she’d done that to herself without realizing what happened.
Saria was outside waiting when the sheriff’s car pulled up. She rushed to the door, yanking it open. “What happened to you?” Saria demanded, her voice filled with concern.
Bijou blinked back unexpected tears she hadn’t known were so close. Clearly her emotions were far rawer than she’d realized. She attempted a small smile. “Remy pushed me into the bayou.”
Saria glared at her brother. Remy backed up a step and held up both hands in surrender.
“She went swimmin’ on her own. She must have gotten all hot and bothered thinkin’ about me,” Remy said hastily.