Leopard's Prey

absolutely remote area she was in. Edging carefully around the SUV, she immediately saw a man’s suit jacket tossed carelessly on the hood. He was bent over, tying a rope to the hitch of his vehicle, using two locking carabiners for one master point to slip the rope through.
    “Are you all right?” she greeted, trying not to startle him.
    He straightened, swinging around to face her and relief flooded her system instantly. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been. She recognized him instantly. Arnaud Lefevre, the famous sculptor whose work was even shown in the Louvre in France. His work sold for hundreds of thousands and he was grinning at her from the shade of the cypress grove on the edge of the swamp. He was dressed in his immaculate thousand-dollar suit, white shirt and hiking boots. That was Arnaud, an eccentric, but extremely talented and versatile.
    “What in the world are you doin’?” Bijou demanded. “Arnaud, you can’t just come out here alone. This is a dangerous area.”
    “I do it all the time.” He stepped forward and hugged her in welcome, kissing both cheeks before releasing her. “It’s a treasure trove here for me. I discovered it years ago.”
    She laughed, suddenly feeling carefree. “That’s so you, Arnaud. Why are you wearing a suit? This is swamp right here just in case you hadn’t noticed.”
    He raised a black eyebrow. “Woman, I always wear a suit. You should know that. You never know who you’ll meet out in the middle of nowhere and you have to look your best to impress.” He took ahold of her arm. “You want to tell me what happened here?”
    Bijou frowned down at her arm, carefully unwrapping the material she’d tied over the rake marks. “I don’ honestly know, Arnaud.”
    He very gently turned her arm over. “It looks like a very large and angry cat scratched it. Did you get into a fight with another woman?”
    She pulled her arm away. “That sounds so like me.”
    He laughed and went around her to open the passenger door. “I brought food and coffee. You up for something?”
    “Sure. But what were you doin’ with that rope and your hitch?” Deliberately she looked around and up, as if looking for a cliff. “We don’ do a lot of climbin’ in Louisiana.”
    “Every time I see you, I’m surprised again by your accent.” He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his gray eyes sparkling with laughter. “And you climb. I’d forgotten that as well. Come with me.” He pointed down to the edge of the embankment, a thirty-foot drop, with eroding rock, dirt and root structures. One tree was actually tilted, its weight over time slowly pulling it down.
    She moved cautiously to the edge of the trees lining the bank and peered over the side. “Down there? Are you searching for alligators?”
    Knobby cypress trees rose out of the water like giant stick figures, branches reaching like arms, moss hanging from them in drapes. The water pooled, dark and forbidding around the barren, misshapen trunks and lapped at the thin strip of a ledge only inches above the surface.
    “Rocks,” he said, coming up behind her, and handing her a coffee mug over her shoulder. “You take it black, right?”
    She took the coffee cup, frowning at him. “Rocks?”
    “For my work. I pulverize them and get a variety of subtle color as well as texture. I get them from all over. Contrary to popular belief, Louisiana has some beautiful rocks and crystals, you just have to know where to look. Just below us, along the bank, there’s a vein of beautiful agate. That might not sound like much to you, but for me, the colors are perfect for my work. I don’t manage to get here that often, so every time I come, I make certain to get a few rocks.”
    “You aren’t kiddin’, are you?” Bijou asked. She could hear the ring of truth in his voice, and more, he sounded boyishly enthusiastic.
    “No, the rocks are beautiful in color and just the right texture for my sculptures. I don’t mine much of it, just a bit each visit, so hopefully I’m not contributing to the bank eroding.”
    Arnaud pulled out a folding chair one-handed and opened it expertly, putting it under the shade of the cypress trees. “Sit down, drink your coffee.” He pulled out a second chair and sat down beside her.
    “You do know there’s a killer hangin’ around, don’ you?” Bijou said as gently as possible. She hated to put a damper on his enthusiasm, but he had to take the warning seriously. It had never