“You sound tired, Remy.”

He toed a chair around and sank down into it, studying his sister’s face. She looked strained, something rare for Saria. She was self-possessed, sure of herself and uncaring of other people’s opinions of her. It was unlike her to be so restless with Drake gone.

“I am tired,” he admitted. Handling Saria took care. One didn’t leap in with her. You gave a little to get something back. He was a skilled interrogator and once in a while he could coax his independent sister to tell him what was troubling her—and something definitely was. He rubbed the back of his neck knowing her cat’s eyes would be able to see the gesture there in the dark. “Talk to me.”

Saria crossed to the counter, putting her hand on the coffeemaker to test the heat. “You aren’t drinkin’ coffee are you?”

“No. I figured I’m already jacked up, I don’ need coffee to keep the buzz goin’.”

“You always get this way when you’re worried, Remy. Is it Pete’s murder?”

Remy shrugged. “If the killer stays with the pattern he had four years ago, he’ll be hittin’ tonight or tomorrow night and I’m no closer to catchin’ him then I was when he struck back then. For all the evidence he leaves at the crime scene, so far, nothin’ links anyone. I don’ even have a single suspect, and he’s goin’ to kill another innocent person. Someone with a family. Pete was a damned good man.”

Saria put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Yes he was. You’ll get him this time, Remy, I know you will.” She pulled up the chair beside his and sat down, leaning toward him. “I know you always think you’re responsible for everyone around you, but you aren’t. You can only do so much.”

“I suppose that’s the truth,” he agreed. “But it doesn’t make me feel any better. Gage and I have worked night and day on this case, and we’re no closer to findin’ the killer. I’m just really grateful you’re stayin’ out of the swamps no matter the reason.”

Saria pressed her lips together and pushed back into her chair. There it was. She was on the verge of telling him, but obviously hesitating. Remy made a show of massaging his neck, wincing a little.

“I do have some news,” Saria said reluctantly, not looking at him directly. “Part of the reason I’m not going into the swamp is because I’m going to have a baby and I don’ want to risk a problem.”

“Saria!” He hadn’t been expecting that. He leaned toward her, covered her hand with his. “Aren’t you happy about it? What’s wrong? Have you told Drake?” He’d kick his brother-in-law in the ass for leaving her when she was obviously upset.

Saria shook her head. “I haven’t said anythin’ to him. I wasn’t certain before he left and after he was gone, I took a test. I wasn’t really sure I wanted to know, but the thingie came up positive, which I have to tell you was a little shockin’.”

“So you were using birth control,” Remy guessed. “And it didn’t work for you?”

“It certainly did not. Male leopards ought to come with a warnin’ label.” She gave a small sniff and kept her head turned away from him.

Remy didn’t know if she was sniffing in disdain at male leopards, or if she was on the verge of tears—and Saria rarely cried. He was treading a minefield if Saria was crying. “Do you want a baby, Saria?” He asked the question straight out. Skirting around the issue wouldn’t do any good and would only make her clam up. She hadn’t told Drake and she could have called him, but she hadn’t. “Is everythin’ all right between you and Drake?”

Saria pressed her hand to her forehead, leaning her elbow on the table in a gesture of weariness. “Drake and I are fine. It’s not that.” She sighed without lifting her head. “It’s me, Remy. I never had a mother, or father for that matter.” She did look at him then and there was stark fear in her eyes. “How would I possibly know how to be a decent parent? It’s not like babies come with manuals. You’re supposed to know all that before you ever have one. I was being so careful so this wouldn’t happen.”

Remy didn’t make the mistake of reacting. He turned over what she’d revealed in his mind, studying her statement from every angle. She feared becoming a parent, and truthfully he didn’t blame her. She wasn’t old enough to remember their father as a happy man. He’d gotten drunk when his wife got sick and stayed that way permanently after she died. Saria had practically raised herself.

“I can see what you’re thinking,” Remy conceded in a thoughtful tone. “You didn’t have the best example in the world of parenting, did you? I certainly wasn’t any help.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Saria said hastily, her dark eyes meeting his. “Maybe I was angry at all of you for a few minutes there, but mostly it was because I felt left out, not because I was alone with mon pere.”

“Still, I should have protected you more. He was never really present in your life.”

“I never was very good at accepting protection, Remy,” Saria confessed. “And you were gone. In the service, travelin’. All of you had lives.”

“That’s no excuse, Saria. But, the point is, you took care of mon pere. By yourself. When you were just a little girl. You kept the house and you cooked for him. You even ran the bar when he was too drunk to do it. You fished, shrimped, and you hunted alligators. You can do anythin’. Having a baby will be nothing for you.”