She pointed above them and laid a finger over her lips, counting in her head while she listened for movement. A few minutes later a trickle of dirt rained down as if someone stood on the edge looking over. Her mouth went dry, her heart pounding. Was the killer above them? He couldn’t get down to them if he was.

Arnaud wrapped his hand around her ankle and that small gesture of camaraderie steadied her. They were safe. They might be trapped on the small ledge, but whoever was above them couldn’t get to them, even if they couldn’t get back up. Eventually someone would come along and see the cars and think they might be in trouble.

Another avalanche of rocks and stones came down. She heard muttering, but couldn’t identify whether it was a man or a woman above them. A branch snapped. Silence. The SUV started up. Her heart jerked hard. It was definitely Arnaud’s vehicle. Her fingers dug deep into his shoulder. She knew what was coming. Hurriedly she bent down and placed her mouth close against his ear.

“Stand up and flatten yourself against the bank. He’s goin’ to push the car over the edge down onto us.”

Arnaud didn’t hesitate. As she stepped back to give him room to stand, he was up instantly with that same unemotional, calm expression. Both pressed themselves tightly against the bank as the motor roared, bursting the silence like a bomb. Arnaud reached out and put his hand over Bijou’s as they both made themselves as small and as thin as possible.

The earth above them shook. Rocks and debris rained down. A tree crashed into the water, the root structure tearing a hole in the bank. The SUV leapt from the cliff above them to drop front end first straight down into the bayou. The back tires missed them by a breath, seeming to skim down their backs, although neither was actually touched.

Bijou closed her eyes and tried not to shake. Arnaud didn’t so much as tremble, his nerves like steel. She hadn’t expected that of him. He was so creative, and she associated creativity with emotion—maybe because she was so emotional. Most of her problems over the years in the business she was in had been due to being too emotional. She couldn’t handle the fame. She never liked being in the spotlight, and yet she’d been born into the glare of one and had pursued a career that kept her there.

Footsteps overhead kept them still. Bijou pressed her lips together tightly and waited, sending up a prayer that whoever was above them didn’t have a gun. There was still her car, and she’d left the keys in the ignition, just as Arnaud had. Whoever the madman was, he swore again and spit into the water as the SUV tilted and slowly began to sink beneath the murky water. He kicked more dirt down onto them, although clearly he couldn’t see them.