Drake stretched out his legs. His bum leg was one big ache, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he found he was black and blue from thigh to ankle. His very bones hurt. “I think I’m too damned old for this fighting crap.”
“I know I am.” Amos glanced toward the dining room and lowered his voice. “Tell me about the Tregre boy. What’s he like?”
“He’s a good man. Rock solid. I put my life in his hands on a daily basis and I know he’s going to be there for me, no matter how bad it gets. That’s the kind of man he is,” Drake answered without hesitation. “So you answer me this—what the hell happened in that family and why didn’t you stop it?” Amos sighed. “I went to school with Buford Tregre. He was a bully then. Mean as a snake. All the girls were terrified of him. Even the teachers were careful of him. His father was a mean drunk and no one ever saw his mother. They were part of the lair—we knew they were leopards, but they stayed to themselves. Mostly they lived off the land, huntin’ and fishin’. He dallied with Iris Lafont, Pauline’s sister, promised marriage, but in the end he kicked her out to marry a shifter, and then kept her tied to him by continuin’ to lie and saying he’d leave his wife for her. He was a no good son of a bitch and treated women like shit. As for his wife, once she set foot on Tregre land, no one ever saw her again.”
“And no one checked on her? I thought families here were close.”
“No one is close with the Tregre family. No one.”
“And his sons?” Drake prompted. Someone was killing in the swamps and it had to be stopped. There was no question whoever was doing it was a shifter. He still hadn’t checked out Amos Jeanmard or his son. He was not disclosing information to the man and as long as he was staying at the inn where Saria was, she would either be in his room, or one of his men would be sitting outside her door in the building, and another outside.
Amos frowned. “I don’ know what to think about those boys.” He rubbed at his chin, his frown deepening to a scowl. “Like their daddy, we didn’ see much of them. Like I said, Buford was a mean drunk and he ruled with his fists. I don’ think they had much of a childhood and they didn’ go to school much. The three of them were close though. You fought one Tregre, you fought them all. Renard was the oldest and he had it the worst. He looked out for his mother and the other two boys. When he went away for a while, it shocked everyone. I think that’s when the old man got worse.”
“But then he came back with a wife. A shifter,” Drake prompted when the older man went silent.
Amos shrugged. “Yes, he brought back a beautiful wife and I knew I had mismanaged everything. I had thrown away my life with Pauline and doomed our lair to extinction. I was born and raised in the swamp. Worked most of my life here. Never left, never thought of leavin’. I thought this was all there were until Renard brought her home with him.”
“The other brothers married someone from the outside, not a shifter, didn’t they?” Drake guessed.
“Buford despised anyone who wasn’t a shifter. He even grew to hate his wife and children—all but Renard—his other two sons because they married non-shifters, and his wife because she wasn’t his true mate.”
“You knew that and you didn’t stop him?”
“I didn’t know it until Renard came to me and told me all the boys were gettin’ out. He said his father was insane. He told me he was certain the old man had killed his mother and that he had attacked his wife one night when he was workin’ out in the swamp. The other women admitted to their husbands that Buford had been doin’ the same thing to them and threatened to kill them if they told.”
“My God. What the hell did you do when everything went to hell and Renard died?” Drake couldn’t keep the accusation out of his voice. He wanted to jump across the room and smash the man. Renard’s wife and son had made it out, but his brothers and their wives hadn’t. “He did do something,” Pauline said. She handed Amos his plate and set his drink on the coffee table. “He ended up with nearly every bone in his body broken and he was in a coma for three months.”
Drake let out his breath. The mire in the swamp just seemed to deepen. The more explanation, the more the questions. “And Tregre wasn’t arrested?”
“At the time, his brother was chief of police.” Amos sighed. “You’re drudgin’ up a lot of shit, Donovan. It was many years ago. I was trespassin’ on their property. They said I attacked him. There was an investigation and Buford was cleared of all charges. There was even an implication that I might have killed Renard. In the end, they didn’ go that far, but I had no other recourse but to back off. Hell, I didn’ remember much for months after. I had physical therapy and my leopard took a long while to emerge again. I told the lair Tregre’s land was off-limits and left it at that.”
Saria slipped into the chair next to Drake, handing him a plate of food. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in a long while. His mind was foggy, trying to take in everything Amos had told him, and still read between the lines. There was no doubt Buford’s sons might be as cruel and depraved as their father. Buford Tregre was certainly capable of being a serial killer. Hating was what he seemed to do best. And Joshua’s uncles had sons of their own, both old enough to be suspects as well. He shook his head. It was all complicated and he felt like shit.
Saria smelled like heaven, that scent he’d come to know as exclusively Saria. She’d obviously showered, which explained why Pauline had managed to get Amos his food first. He didn’t mind not getting his food immediately, Saria had to be exhausted. She’d been streaked with dirt and probably blood and sweat from him. He’d been thinking about the mess he’d gotten himself into, allowing her to take care of him instead of the other way around.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She sent him a dazzling smile. “I wasn’t the one who got all chewed up in a fight. I’m fine. And Miss Pauline outdid herself. The food’s fantastic.”
The tension coiled so tight in his gut unraveled. There was something so amazing in the way she enjoyed her food. Maybe it was just the entire package—the way she enjoyed her life. When she ate, she ate, enjoying every single morsel. If she had to protect herself, she did so with the same intensity she did everything else. She made him feel alive—and happy.
He let himself grin back at her like a foolish idiot. “She is a good cook,” he admitted and watched with admiration as she tucked into the food on her plate with gusto.
She frowned at him. “Eat. What are you doin’?”
“I like watching you eat.”
Amos laughed. “You’re a goner, Donovan. When a hungry man spends more time lookin’ at his woman than eatin’ , he’s in trouble.”
Pauline joined in his laughter. “Eat, Drake. When Amos told me what happened, I knew you’d need to eat something to rebuild your strength. You’ll have all the time in the world to look at Saria.”
Beside him, Saria stirred a little uncomfortably. He knew she wasn’t yet convinced they’d be spending their lives together. She was willing to entertain the idea, but she’d been so dead set against marriage and she obviously had her life plans that didn’t include a permanent man—and he was damned permanent.
“Remy get out his shotgun yet?” Amos asked.
“Not yet, but I wish he would,” Drake said.
Saria choked. He helpfully patted her back. “Something wrong, Saria?”