Page 17 of Jacques

If she didn’t try to find the perpetrator, how many more women would suffer because she hadn’t done enough to bring the bastard to justice?

She let out a deep sigh, opened her eyes and spied the crumpled page. It wasn’t much, but it would be a start. Danny grabbed her purse, the medical report documenting her rape and the fact she’d been drugged with ketamine, scooped the crumpled timeline off the floor and left her apartment.

If there were any chance whatsoever that Jacques’s computer guy could come up with other clues, maybe they would jog her memory and help her identify who he was.

Her truck started the second she twisted the key in the ignition, roaring to life and belching a hefty puff of dark smoke.

When she pulled out onto Main Street, the sun shone down on Bayou Mambaloa.

Danny took that display of brightness as a sign she was doing the right thing. Her therapist had told her to make a habit of looking for the positive wherever she could find it.

Sunshine was positive.

Taking the first step to ask for help was a positive move. At least she wasn’t hiding in the cooler or in the back of a delivery truck.

Several vehicles were parked in the boat factory parking lot, including Jacques’s SUV.

Her fluttery pulse and the butterflies in her belly were because she’d be letting others in on her secrets, the trauma and the embarrassment. Not because she was excited to see Jacques so soon after he’d followed her home the night before…or because she’d had bedtime fantasies about the man.

More butterflies erupted in her belly as she pushed the door open to the building and stepped inside.

The Brotherhood Protectors had purchased the old boat factory and spent months remodeling and refurbishing the old boat-making equipment. Now the factory operated as a boat-making business, but not on a grand scale.

This was Danny’s first time in the building. As soon as she entered, she stepped into the factory, where aluminum hulls were shaped and outfitted. She was stunned by the sleek finishes and the massive windows that let light filter in.

She recognized Lucas and Valentin working on a skiff’s hull. They glanced up as the door clicked shut behind her.

“Hey, Danny,” Valentin called out. “Looking for Jacques?” His voice echoed across the large room.

“Y-yes,” she answered, starting across the shop floor.

Lucas tilted his head toward the door at the far end of the work area. “Through the door. He told us to send you back as soon as you arrived.”

“Thanks.” Danny passed them and kept moving until she stood in front of the door indicated.

As she reached up to knock, the door opened, and Jacques stood in the frame. “Ah, Danny, I was just about to call you.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I meant to get here earlier, but I slept in.”

Jacques’s brows furrowed. “Rough night?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “Same nightmare. No better clarity. I’m past ready for it to be over.”

“Come in.” Jacques stepped back and waved her through the doorway and into a large conference room.

Her eyes widened. The factory was sleek and impressive. The conference room was too, with its massive black conference table, giant display screen and an impressive array of monitors in one corner. Impressive wasn’t quite enough to describe it. Intimidating fit better for Danny.

“Ms. French.” Remy rose from the corner with the array of monitors and came to greet her with an outstretched hand.

Danny shot a glance toward Jacques.

“You don’t have to shake his hand,” Jacques said. “Do only what makes you comfortable.”

Remy gave her a gentle smile and lowered his arm. “Exactly. If you feel at all uncomfortable, we can call this session off and try again another time.”

Danny shook her head and raised her hand. “I’m ready to face everything head-on. And, please, call me Danny. We’ve known each other long enough to skip formalities.”

Remy nodded, took her hand, gave it a gentle shake and let go. “Have a seat and let’s get started.”