“And you were starin’ at me.”

He nodded solemnly. No smile. Just remembering something that was obviously important to him. “I couldn’t help myself. You had the most perfect bone structure I’d ever seen. I kept thinking if I could sculpt you—somehow get that perfection in one of my creations. I didn’t realize until much later that I was making you uncomfortable. I was so focused on memorizing every detail of your face.”

“You weren’t paying any attention at all to traffic and you stepped backward.”

He nodded. “I was trying to see your face in a different light. No one moved but you. Not a single one of your bodyguards. Just you. I remember you rushing toward me, catching at me, and we both went tumbling. I felt the air as the car went by. It was so close. You saved my life, Bijou, and risked your own to do it. Not a single other person moved to help. Just you. You didn’t know me then, but you still did it.”

Bijou shrugged, a little embarrassed. She hadn’t thought before she moved, seeing the car bearing down on him. “I’m glad I did, Arnaud, whatever the reason. I’ve got three people in the world I count as friends and you’re one of them.”

He stared at her for a long time. “I’ve got one friend, Bijou, and you’re it.”

She blinked. Found herself smiling. “We’re a pathetic little lot, aren’t we? Our darin’ enemy up there probably despises my singin’ or your sculptures and he’s just expressin’ himself.”

“He’s throwing a tantrum is what he’s doing,” Arnaud corrected.

Again, Bijou was caught by Arnaud’s lack of emotion. He wasn’t angry, even with his SUV sinking in the bayou.

“I’m sorry about your car. Did you have anything important in it, aside from your climbing gear?” she asked with regret. She was angry for him. For both of them.

He shrugged and once more looked up the embankment. “Nothing I can’t replace. You’re alive. I am. We’re good. The real question is, how are we going to climb up this thing without bringing the entire bank down on top of us?”

Bijou remained silent, studying the overhang above them and the very unstable bank. She didn’t have the answer to that very good question.

Arnaud sighed. “We’ve got rope.” He began to haul the end that had fallen from above into the water back out, looping it as he went.

“You can’t climb using a slimy rope,” she protested.

“I’ll try to climb without one and just use if for safety. You can belay from below,” he said. “If I can find a stable place to put in a few anchors, or even use a good solid root, I might make it to the top and then I can bring you up.”

“I’m lighter, Arnaud,” Bijou said a little reluctantly. She was smaller and wouldn’t have the reach he had. Wingspan could be everything when climbing, and Arnaud would have an advantage of height, but with less weight pulling on the rocks and roots, she might have a better chance to make the climb.

Arnaud paused for a moment and looked at her, cocking his head to one side and then slowly shaking it. “I’m a better climber, Bijou. You’re not going up that wall. It’s very unstable. I wouldn’t be trying it if I thought someone would come along and rescue us. And I don’t want to chance that madman coming back for another try at us.”

A sudden thought occurred to her. “Arnaud. What if that was the killer and we interrupted him? Or he wanted to make certain there were no witnesses. If you go up there and he’s in the middle of murderin’ someone, he’ll have to kill you.”

A hint of a smile teased Arnaud’s mouth. “You’re a funny girl, Bijou. I’ve never met anyone else like you. I suppose we could spend the night here, fighting off alligators.”

Bijou grinned at him. “I’m from the bayou, my friend. We’ll be eatin’ one of those gators if they come around.” The smile faded. “Let’s just wait another hour before you try it.”

He glanced at the sky. “Okay. But only an hour. I’m not going to be on this ledge after dark.”

* * *

REMY glanced at his watch and once more called Bijou on his cell phone, swearing under his breath repeatedly. He’d looked for her at the Inn. Talked to Saria, and just about everyone else, and no one had seen her. Her car was gone, but she hadn’t packed up her things.

“Blue,” he whispered aloud between his teeth. “Where the hell are you?”

She had a show to do. She was too much of a professional to miss it. She just wouldn’t do that, but she hadn’t come to the rehearsal and no band member had heard from her all day, which, according to them, was unlike her.

He stood still there in the street, staring at the club across from him. He’d harassed the band members, the bartender and three waitresses. Who was left? Saria hadn’t seen or talked to her. He’d made Saria call her twice, just in case she wasn’t answering him, but Bijou hadn’t picked up. Okay, he’d even called Gage and asked him to have the sheriffs patrolling to keep a look out for her car.

His leopard was as uneasy as he was, close to the surface, raking a bit for freedom—and maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe his leopard could find her when he—with all his resources—couldn’t.

“Remy, get the hell out of the street,” Gage called.

Remy swung around abruptly, hope surging. “Did you locate her?” He crossed the street to his brother in several long strides. More and more the feeling of urgency was on him. He couldn’t shake that she was in trouble.