LITMIR.BIZ

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is too strong a word. Let’s say that we didn’t answer all the questions, and judging from the look on Ms. Blevins’s face, she doesn’t intend to let what happened tonight drop.” Eleanor took a seat beside the sofa. “And I have a few of my own to ask. What’s going on, Liza? You were never a person given to drama and scenes.”

      Liza wrapped her hands around the cup and stalled for time to think through her answer. During the past five years, she’d become more and more isolated from everyone who cared about her. Painting had become her life, her only outlet. Her life had spun out of balance, leaving only her work and her desperate longing for the man who’d disappeared five years before.

      She wasn’t close to anyone, not even her parents. In those few years, she’d managed to alienate her artist friends in New Orleans. The blame lay on her, she knew. No matter how she’d tried to shake off Duke’s disappearance, it had consumed her life. There wasn’t enough left to maintain friendships. Eleanor was the only person left who’d known her for any length of time. Liza knew if she decided to come clean, Eleanor was the person she had to trust.

      “Remember Duke Masonne?”

      Eleanor sat up a little taller. “How could I forget him, Liza? You were in love with him. You were going to marry him. And then he disappeared.” Eleanor’s voice was sharp.

      “Yes.” Liza saw the anger in her friend’s eyes. Whenever she broached the subject of Duke Masonne, her friends had one of two reactions—they hated him because they felt he’d dumped her and skipped town or they pitied her because they thought he was dead, the victim of foul play. Eleanor obviously preferred the first theory.

      “That was five years ago, Liza. The cops closed the case on his disappearance. As far as everyone is concerned, he’s dead.” Eleanor waved her hand around. “You’ve moved on since then. You’ve become a celebrated artist with enough money to open your own gallery.”

      Liza sat up. “You never thought he was dead, did you?”

      “My thoughts don’t matter. He’s dead to you. Five years, Liza. Even if he is alive somewhere, there’s no excuse for a man who abandoned the woman who loved him and never had the decency to tell her goodbye or let her know that he was safe—”

      “I saw him tonight.” Liza saw Eleanor’s reaction, though her friend attempted to mask her shock.

      “Really, Liza,” Eleanor said, rising to her feet. She bent over and felt Liza’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.”

      “I saw him outside the window. That’s why I jumped up and ran out.”

      Eleanor looked as if she’d been slapped. “You saw Duke Masonne?”

      “I’ve been seeing him for the past few weeks.”

      “Seeing him?”

      Liza met her friend’s gaze. “Catching glimpses of him. He’s been hanging around the gallery. Sometimes when I go to buy groceries, he follows me. He’s here, in New Orleans. And he’s alive.”

      Liza pulled the comforter up around her, suddenly feeling cold, though the night was warm. A gentle breeze ruffled the curtains in the room, sending them swirling like dancing wraiths. The idea was as chilling as the expression on Eleanor’s face.

      “I’m not losing my mind,” Liza said, forcing herself to sound more confident of that fact than she felt. “I really saw him.”

      “And he’s stalking you.” Eleanor let the words hang. At last, she leaned forward and grasped Liza’s shoulders. “Listen to yourself. Can you hear what you’re saying? Duke would never come back to New Orleans, not after the way he deserted you. He left you fearing for his safety, wondering if he was injured or dead. There’s no coming back from an action that cruel and despicable.”

      Liza closed her eyes briefly. This was the reaction she’d expected, but not the one she’d hoped for. Just this once she needed an ally, someone to help her. She wasn’t imagining things. Duke Masonne had been standing outside the window of LaTique Gallery. He’d been there not an hour ago, and two days before that. And a week before that. It was almost as if he wanted to come inside but couldn’t bring himself to try.

      “I need help,” Liza said softly. She opened her eyes. “Will you help me?”

      Eleanor’s hands slowly slid from her friend’s arms. “What can I do?”

      “He’s here and he’s alive. I have to know what he wants.”

      “If that’s the case, think it through. He left you wondering for five years. Yes, your career has skyrocketed. Yes, your talent has grown. Yes, you’re about to become an international success. But have you had a date in five years? Have you established any relationship with a good man? Have you had an ounce of fun in all this time?” Eleanor held up a hand. “The answer is no. A big no. Because that man left you in emotional limbo, a hell of doubt and worry and pain. If he is here—and that’s a big if—the only thing you should give him is a kick in the pants.”

      Liza took a deep breath. “Everything you say is true. I am moving forward, though. I have been seeing someone. It isn’t serious. Not yet, but it could grow. Maybe.”

      “Who?”

      “Trent Maxwell. He’s a New Orleans policeman. But I have to know what happened to Duke. Maybe if I find out the truth, I can put this behind me. Eleanor, you didn’t really know Duke. He wasn’t the kind of man who would deliberately hurt me. I…I don’t know how to make you see it, but you have to believe me. What we had was very much like the love you and Peter share. It was real. If I can’t believe that, how can I ever believe in anyone again?”

      Eleanor stood up and began to pace the room. “What do you want me to do?”

      “Help me find him.”

      “And then?”

      “I only want to talk to him.”

      “I don’t know.” Eleanor came back around the sofa to face her. “I’ll talk it over with Peter. But I want a promise from you.”

      “Anything.” Liza felt a surge of hope that was the most promising emotion she’d allowed herself in five years. “What?”

      “You’ll go and talk with a professional, a psychologist.”

      Liza’s immediate reaction was to reject the idea. She wasn’t insane. She hadn’t imagined the man outside the window. But she saw the iron in Eleanor’s eyes. “I don’t think this is necessary, but I’ll agree. If you help me.”

      Eleanor nodded. “I have to go back to Washington. We left Jordan with Peter’s folks, and I’m due for a doctor’s appointment.”

      “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Liza asked.

      “Yes, I think I am.” Eleanor’s hand strayed to her stomach and her smile was small but joyous. “I have to go back to D.C. In the meantime, though, I’ll leave Familiar here with you. He’s rather extraordinary. And to be honest, if Duke Masonne or his look-alike is snooping around here, Familiar will deal with him. When I return, we’ll settle this once and for all.”

      “You’re leaving the cat?” Liza looked at the black cat that was scampering around the room.

      “Don’t ever underestimate him,” Eleanor said. “He’s the best detective working the business.”

      “And people think I’m suffering from delusions,” Liza said softly. She was rewarded by a smile from her old friend.

      “Point taken,” Eleanor said. “Now Pascal gave me this sleeping pill for you. He said it would only relax you, and I want you to take it.”

      Liza made a face. “He has more pills than a pharmacist.” She obediently opened her mouth and took the pill and glass of water Eleanor offered.

      “I’m going back downstairs to help with

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