“No way is Robert capable of doin’ this,” Remy disagreed. “He’d puke his guts out. He’s still a kid, a stupid one, wantin’ to take the easy way out, but he’s no murderer. Not like this. Whoever is doin’ this is as cold as ice. Robert is a hothead. He would no more plan ahead and have his equipment ready and a way to keep from leavin’ evidence behind, like this killer. I don’ believe for one minute that Robert did this, but I wouldn’t mind arresting his sorry butt and throwin’ him in jail for a good long time.”

“Leopards don’ do well caged,” Gage said uneasily.

“Just what that little bastard could use, a good lesson in what could happen if he continues his ways.” Remy sighed and looked once more to the ground and the proof that said a leopard had been on the scene. “It does worry me that we can’t catch the scent. The killer should be sweatin’.”

“The odor of fear is coverin’ everything else,” Gage pointed out.

“That’s part of it,” Remy admitted reluctantly, “but it shouldn’t completely mask the killer’s scent from a leopard. If he isn’t leopard, and I see no sign that he is . . .”

“Until now. We can’t be certain this wasn’t Robert,” Gage said. “If you’re wrong, then we’ve got another killer in our lair. Our leopards are definitely dangerous, and when one goes wrong, it can be very bad.”

“Iris Mercier was able to mask her scent when she made kills,” Remy said. “Every leopard in the lair became aware of it after she was killed. None of these kills feel like leopard, not even this one, but Charisse was still workin’ on the product that consumed all scents. She did tell me she was far more careful since her mother had used her work to get away with killin’, but it’s possible someone managed to get ahold of her experiments.”

Gage studied Remy’s face. “Your gut is sayin’ this isn’t leopard.”

“I don’ believe it is, but Robert’s managed to muddy the water. I’ve got to call Drake and tell him to get back here now. We’ll need him when forensics identifies this as leopard fur.”

“Obviously planted by the killer,” Gage suggested. “Who would ever find a leopard runnin’ around here?”

“Drake will have to order everyone not to shift for a while. We can’t take any chances with the locals thinkin’ the Rougarou is haunting the swamp. The last time two people shot their neighbors, convinced they were shifters,” Remy said.

Remy stood up slowly, looking around. “There was obviously a party of some sort right over there.” He skirted the crime scene and made his way to the flat spot where beer cans were strewn everywhere. There was an empty tequila bottle as well as a Jack Daniels bottle.

“He must have come here with his friends.”

Remy and Gage exchanged a long look.

“Jean and Juste Rousseau,” Gage said.

“And also Robert Lanoux,” Remy said. “He was here partyin’ with the Rousseau brothers and their other friends. At least three others, probably the same ones who sat together at the club.”

“Funny how the Rousseau brothers keep turnin’ up,” Gage said. “I’m likin’ this group for the break-ins.”

“And they definitely were partyin’ with Alan Potier. He was the third victim four years ago. The brothers were with him when they were partyin’ behind the school. Potier was a local boy found in the tree just past the football field there, that giant oak tree. He and the Rousseau brothers had been drinkin’ under the bleachers that night. They claimed they passed out and when they woke up, Potier was gone. They walked home from the school and never saw Potier alive again.”

“You didn’t smell a lie?”

Remy shook his head. “They were nervous, but in a murder investigation, most people are. I looked at them for a while, so clearly I wasn’t completely convinced—it seemed a little strange to me that they wouldn’t notice the body in the tree. The tree was a good distance away from them, but it still seemed unlikely to me that they wouldn’t have seen the body. Wouldn’t you look around for a friend if you passed out when he was there and then when you woke up, he was gone? At least take a little look around?”

Gage shrugged. “We would, Remy, but we’re talkin’ about the Rousseau brothers. I don’ think they’ve ever been responsible in their lives. They like stirrin’ the pot. And don’ ever underestimate them, they have high IQs. I absolutely believe they have a little ring of thieves they control and they case the places and send their crew in to do the actual robberies.”

“And the beatin’s?” Remy asked.

“It’s them. Just like you know this murderer isn’t leopard, I know the Rousseau brothers are masterminding the break-ins.” Gage studied the body, his face expressionless. Clearly he had to fight to separate himself from the victim. Gage had talked with Ryan Cooper yesterday afternoon. Cooper had been drinking then. The Rousseau brothers hadn’t been with him, but his two companions had been sitting in the club with the brothers and Robert.

“Robert’s goin’ to be worried sick that either Drake or I will kill him. He’ll tell Drake whatever Drake wants to know, includin’ everything he knows about the robberies if he’s involved, and I’m bettin’ he is,” Remy said in an effort to help distract his brother. “If you can get the Rousseau brothers on that charge, and they have anythin’ to do with this, it will buy us time to find evidence against them for the murders.”