that room and don’t come out until I tell you we’re all clear,” Remy ordered. He didn’t let go of Bijou even as he gave the orders. She looked stricken, pressing her lips together. He glanced down at her hands. She was holding a photograph up against her heart. He held out his hand. “Show me, Blue. Is that your mother?”
She nodded and turned the picture over. The woman looked just like her. She had to have been close to the same age as Bijou was now. He ran his finger gently over the photograph. “She’s beautiful, Bijou, and you look just like her. I’ll be back in a few minutes and I’ll help you take all this back to the Inn.” Because he couldn’t help himself, he leaned into her and brushed a kiss across her mouth. “It’s almost over, chere. Hang in there with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured. When he turned away, she caught his arm. “Maybe you should take Dash with you.”
He loved Dash, his younger, very sensitive brother. Dash was hell on wheels in a fight, but he was made for finer things. Remy wasn’t about to risk him, not when he was injured.
Durang had a lot to lose and he knew he had the plastic sheets and surgical instruments in his car. Remy would use that against him, convince Durang he was going to be charged as the harvester in order to make him confess to the lesser crime of planning to murder Bijou. Remy wanted Rob Butterfield as well and he would do everything in his power to make certain Durang gave Bijou’s manager up. Remy wasn’t going to let the man get away with conspiracy to commit murder.
“I’ve got backup. This shouldn’t take long.” He winked at her and strode away.
He could hear Durang now, hurrying down the hall, back toward the staircase. Remy chose his spot. Durang would have to go past him to get off the last stair. Bodrie’s penchant for naked statues came in handy for concealment. He wasn’t about to allow Durang to spot him until it was too late. There wasn’t going to be a shootout. Remy couldn’t risk losing Butterfield and Durang had to flip on Butterfield.
Jason Durang came down the stairs stealthily. He was certain Bijou was somewhere in the house. He just had to find her and he could take care of anyone getting in his way. Remy let him walk one step past him and he stepped out and shoved the muzzle of his gun hard behind Durang’s ear.
“You’re under arrest. Toss the gun aside and listen very carefully to your rights.”
19
“I’M sorry, Remy,” LeBrun said. “I have nothin’ new for you. I can’t see any discernible difference in Pete Morgan’s bone and Bob Carson’s. I can tell you there were traces of ketamine in Bob Carson’s system. I found a small needle mark in his neck where he’d been injected.”
Remy frowned. “We found ketamine in the Rousseau brother’s stash of drugs for sale, and Carson had ketamine in his hotel room. This case just keeps getting murkier and murkier.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re aware some idiots use ketamine as a recreational drug. Carson might have bought the drug from the Rousseau brothers,” LeBrun said.
“I thought of that. Robert said that Bob Carson was a longtime customer of the Rousseau brothers and he liked a variety of drugs, including ketamine. But he wouldn’t have injected it into his neck.”
“That would be dangerous,” LeBrun agreed. “Injecting ketamine would be extremely dangerous. It’s fast acting. The person would be under before he could remove the needle from his arm.”
“So someone else probably used the drug to render Carson unconscious so they could get him out to the swamp. Was there ketamine in Morgan’s or Cooper’s body?”
LeBrun scowled. “If there had been, even slight trace amounts, I would have included it in the report.”
Remy had known that. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t callin’ your professionalism into question. I’m just back to square one. I’m squeezing Durang. I want him to give up Butterfield, but the surgical instruments weren’t the ones used to carve bones out of our victims. Even the type of plastic sheeting doesn’t match. So where does that leave us?”
“Back to the Rousseau brothers?”
“Maybe, but if I’m wrong, if I accept that because it’s easy . . .”
LeBrun shook his head, hitting the top of Remy’s desk with a flat palm. “Not because it’s easy, because it fits. Everythin’ points straight back to Jean and