The body lay half in, half out of the water, right at the edge of the marsh. She didn’t recognize the man. He appeared to be between thirty and forty, now lifeless and bloody. He’d been stabbed in the stomach, but he’d died from a suffocating bite to his throat. She could see the puncture wounds and the raking claw marks clearly on the body. Blood leaked into the water all around him, drawing insects and interest from alligators.

She pressed her fingers to her eyes for a moment, sickened that she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go to the police. Remy was a homicide detective. He was the police. And could she turn in her own brothers? Would anyone even believe her? Maybe this person had done something terrible and given one of her brothers no choice.

Saria made her way home slowly, dread filling her as she tied up her boat and stepped onto the dock. She stood for a moment, observing her home. The bar was dark, as were the house and store, but she knew with that strange warning radar she always seemed to have that she was not alone. She circled the house, determined to avoid her brothers. As she reached for the back door, it jerked inward and her oldest brother filled the doorway, towering over her, a handsome, dark-haired man with serious, watchful green eyes. Startled, she stepped back before she could stop herself. She knew he would catch the fear flickering in her eyes before she had a chance to cover it up.

Remy’s eyes narrowed, inhaling, as if drawing her fear into his lungs. He swallowed whatever he’d been about to say, concern replacing impatience. “Are you hurt?” He reached to take her arm, to draw her into the house.

Saria stepped back out of reach, her heart pounding. Remy frowned and raised his voice. “Mahieu, Dash, get out here.” He didn’t take his eyes from her face. He didn’t even blink. “Where have you been, cher?” His tone demanded an answer.

He looked so big. She swallowed, refusing to be intimidated. “Why would that suddenly matter? You never wanted to know before.” She gave a little casual shrug.

There were no footsteps—her brothers moved silently, but both Mahieu and Dash stood shoulder to shoulder behind Remy. She could see their eyes moving over her, taking in every detail of her no doubt pale face.

“Were you with someone tonight, Saria?” Remy asked, his voice gentle—too gentle. He reached out and just as gently caught her arm when she shifted as if she might run.

She wanted to cry at the gentleness in his voice, but she knew Remy could go from gentle to lethal in moments. She’d seen him handle suspects on more than one occasion. Nearly all of them fell for his gentle routineished he was really all that kind and caring with her, but until recently, none of her brothers had noticed her.

She scowled at him. “That’s none of your business, Remy. Nothing I did mattered to you while I was growing up, and there’s no need to start pretending it does now.”

He looked shocked. She saw it on his face right before he went all Remy on her, no expression whatsoever. His eyes went flat and hard, kicking her accelerated heartbeat up another notch. “That’s a hell of a thing to say to me. We practically raised you. Of course we’re goin’ to be concerned when you stay out half the night.”

“You raised me?” She shook her head. “No one raised me, Remy. Not you. Not Dad. I’m a little too grown for any of you to suddenly decide you’re goin’ to start wonderin’ what I’m doin’. And just for your information, since you know so damned much about me, I go out into the swamp nearly every night. I have since I was a kid. How the hell did you possibly miss that with all your concern?”

Dash studied her face. “You tangle with somethin’ out in the bayou, Saria, or someone?”

Her heart jumped. Was that a taunt? She didn’t know if there was some double implication. She took another step back. “If I had a problem with someone, I’d take care of it myself, Dash. Why are you all suddenly interested in my life?”

Remy rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’re famille, cher. If you’re in trouble . . .”

“I’m not,” she interrupted. “What’s this all about, Remy? Really? Because none of you have ever questioned where I’ve been or whether or not I was capable of takin’ care of myself. I’m at the bar alone for days at a time. None of you ever questioned whether that was dangerous or not, although I was underage runnin’ it.”

Her three brothers exchanged long, sheepish looks. Remy shrugged. “Maybe we didn’t, Saria, but we should have. I was sixteen when you were born, feelin’ my oats, cher, burnin’ through my youth. You were a babe. So maybe I didn’t pay attention the way I should have, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t mine. Famille is everythin’.”

“While you all were out feelin’ your oats, I was takin’ care of our drunken pere every night. Paying bills. Runnin’ the store. Makin’ sure he ate and had clean clothes. Orderin’ for the store. Fishing. You know. Grown-up things. Keepin’ the place runnin’ so you could all have your fun.”

“We should have helped you more with Pere,” Remy admitted.

Saria blinked back unexpected tears. Remy could be so sweet when he chose, but she didn’t trust his motivation. Why now? She risked a quick glance at her brothers’ faces. They were all watching her intently. They were utterly still. Their eyes had gone almost amber with the pupils fully dilated. It took every ounce of courage she possessed not to turn and run.

“Now I’m grown, Remy. It’s a little too late to start wonderin’ about my life now. I’m tired and want to go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” Not if she could help it.