“The dancers at the strip joint who agreed to testify against them? You got some of them to agree but they were very scared,” Bijou suggested. She massaged his back with one hand, trying to soothe him. “Are you certain Robert, Brent and Tom are all safe? Is there a way they can get to them in jail? Because if witnesses disappear . . .” She trailed off. “That’s what you’ve been afraid of all along, isn’t it?”

“There are many voodoo practitioners here in the city as well as in the outlyin’ areas. If it’s widely known that Jean and Juste are bokors, black magic priests, then there will be a great deal of fear of retaliation through voodoo spells as well as violence.” Remy ran his hands through his hair again. “The worst part, Blue, is I don’ think they’re the bone harvesters.”

“I thought you found human bones in their camp in the swamp.”

He turned and swept her under his arm, needing the feel of her close to him. She was warm and soft and all his. She leaned into him without hesitation, nuzzling his neck with her lips, her breath teasing his skin.

“They killed those women, I know they did, but they didn’t take their bones. Those bones were old. They robbed graves, they had to have. Look at what they do. They intimidate using voodoo. They prey on the elderly. Most of the dancers have no one looking out for them, so they make easy targets. Tom has a mean streak in him. He was always a bit of a follower and liked to hang with the bullies. Ryan was the same. Naturally they’d gravitate toward the Rousseau brothers. Robert and Brent are weak and self-indulgent.”

“So you’re sayin’ the Rousseau brothers don’t have the personalities for the kind of murders the bone harvester committed. What about tryin’ to make the guides in the bayou pay protection money?”

His hands came up to fist in her hair. He loved the feel of her hair, soft and thick and as luxurious as a leopard’s pelt, moving against his skin like living silk. He brought the long strands, wrapped around his fist, to his mouth, inhaling the scent of lavender that seemed so much a part of her.

“I think they’re growin’ bolder, trying to expand their business, like old-time gangsters, but essentially, they’re cowards, preying on the weak. They’re usin’ a centuries-old religion to help them do it. They’re intelligent and bold, and they believe they’re able to outsmart everyone. With every success they’ve grown more confident, but they’re still evolvin’. The bone harvester has already evolved. He’s been killing for years.”

“I didn’t consider that,” Bijou said, leaning back into him. “You’re right. And you know, Remy, every single time you talk about this killer, you say he or him. It’s never them.”