He looked up as Saria came through the doorway, grinning at him. He had known she was there. She was leopard and moved in silence, but he was leopard and he’d scented her the moment she’d come out of her darkroom and entered the main part of the house.

Saria laughed at him. “You’re not goin’ to think I’m crazy when you see these pictures, Remy. I had Bijou write down everythin’ she could remember, her impressions and even sounds she heard, and I did the same. We didn’t discuss the crime scene so we wouldn’t taint each other’s memory.”

“Good thinkin’, Saria,” Remy admitted.

“Comes from havin’ brothers in law enforcement,” she said cheerfully.

Saria set the pictures she’d developed on the table in front of him. For the first time she seemed to notice the lights were off. “What are you two doin’ sittin’ in the dark?”

“Visitin’,” Remy answered. “Waitin’ for you to get out of that room so I could give you a lecture on safety, which you clearly won’t listen to, and drinkin’ your very fine coffee.”

Saria put her arm around Remy’s neck and dropped a kiss on his cheek, a rare gesture of affection for his younger sister, and one that told him she’d been shaken by finding the murdered man. He patted her arm gently.

“It was Pete Morgan, wasn’t it?” Saria asked, stepping back.

She wasn’t fast enough. Remy caught the faint scent of fear and felt her body tremble. His sister was a tough little thing, but finding the body of a friend, one murdered in such a vicious, gruesome way, had to have been distressing. She flipped on the light and crossed to the counter to get a glass of water.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Saria. It must have been horrible for you.”

She turned and faced him, leaning back against the counter. “How do you do it? Gage and the others break up fights most of the time and go after idiots, but you have to look at murders all the time.”

He was very aware of Bijou across from him blinking rapidly as if the light bothered her. He knew better. She’d always acted tough, as if she didn’t care, but she had a soft heart. “Most murders around here are pretty straightforward. Stupid arguments, revenge. That sort of thing, not a serial killer who rips apart people I know.”

“I don’ think I’ll get that image out of my head for a long time, if ever,” Bijou admitted.

Remy’s gaze jumped to her face. He didn’t need the light on to see that her eyes were haunted. He cursed his sister silently. “What exactly were you doing in the swamp tonight?”