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better place to face her fate than the deep cover of the trees?
    The knife tip grazed her skin. “Do it,” he said.
    She drove into the forest, following his directions, tears stinging her eyes because she was so scared and because she couldn’t find even the smallest sliver of hope.
    Stop it, she admonished herself. There’s always hope.
    “That’s far enough,” he said. As the car had more or less burrowed as deep into the forest as possible without the aid of a bulldozer, she eased off the gas and turned off the car.
    “Give me your purse,” he said.
    She took it from around her body and handed it to him. Her hands were surprisingly steady.
    “Open it.”
    She unzipped the bag and he peeked inside. “Put it on dashboard,” he directed, apparently satisfied she wasn’t carrying a weapon around in her bag.
    Again she did as he said.
    Staring right into her eyes, knife held firmly in his bloody maimed hand, Korenev unbuckled his belt and started tugging it through the belt loops.
    Surely he wasn’t thinking rape!
    But what about the way he’d staged the Pollocks’ murders? Bile rose up her throat. Who knew what this man would do? The door on her side was wedged against a tree or she would have taken her chances. As it was, she was trapped.
    He pulled the belt loose and quickly tugged the free end back through the buckle, then slipped it over Paige’s head, sliding it down until it circled her neck. The buckle bit against her flesh, yanked on her hair. In essence, he’d created a collar for her and he controlled the “leash.”
    “One good tug and eyes pop,” he said in such a matter-of-fact way her blood turned to water.
    “Yes, okay.”
    “Who are you? How you know Cinca?”
    “I don’t. I’m just renting the cabin.”
    “Give me wallet. Hurry. I’m late.”
    Late for what? Murder, mayhem? She took out the blue wallet, a gift from Brian. She’d forgotten that until this moment.
    “Show me driver’s license.”
    She did. He studied it for a second. “Paige Graham,” he said. “So, you are nobody, huh? Tell the truth. How you know Cinca?”
    It was on the tip of her tongue to repeat that she didn’t know John, he’d just arrived much like Korenev himself, but then she thought better of it. If Korenev didn’t believe John would come after her, what use was she to Korenev?
    “We’re lovers,” she said.
    He raised his thick eyebrows and sneered. “Oh, come now. You expect I believe that?”
    “I don’t care what you believe. It’s a fact. John and I are lovers.”
    “There was no sign of you at his place in Lone Tree.”
    She shrugged. “We, um, conducted our affair at my place.”
    “Why?”
    “I was involved with someone else. So what?”
    He narrowed his eyes as he seemed to really look at her for the first time. There was speculation in his black eyes, and doubt.
    “Why else would he risk his life for me?” she added.
    “So he arrange to meet you here after…business?”
    This was thin ice, although the thought that John had had “business” with this man appalled her. Nevertheless, she’d started this, and she knew she had to keep it simple or get tripped up in her own lies. He obviously didn’t realize John didn’t remember anything past yesterday, and he just as clearly wasn’t a close friend. She nodded.
    He produced a leer that literally made her skin crawl. She’d heard the expression, of course, but this was the first time she’d experienced it, and it was creepy.
    He tossed her purse and wallet on the floor, then pulled up his trouser leg, revealing a holster into which he slid the knife. Paige took a shaky breath. He could still choke her, but at least it wasn’t likely he’d slit her throat.
    For now, anyway.
    He caught the handle on the passenger-side door and heaved his bulk against it, keeping the belt tight around Paige’s throat as he bullied the door open. The buckle pressed into her flesh. Somehow he managed to extricate himself from the car,