Hance still didn’t remove the blade from where it scraped against her neck. “I’m not a fool. I know exactly how much you care about Miss McQuaid. You made that quite clear since your return. And I know you’ll do anything to keep her safe.”

Jericho’s fingers itched to snatch up his guns and put bullets into the heads of both men drawing near. But with Hance’s knife already cutting into Ivy’s flesh, he couldn’t risk it. He’d have to go along with the fellow for the time being until he could find a way to free Ivy.

As one of the men grabbed his arm, Jericho tensed but forced himself not to strike. The second one latched on to Jericho’s other arm, and within an instant, the two had his wrists tied together in front of him.

Even then, Hance kept the blade against Ivy’s throat. Thankfully, she’d stopped resisting, clearly sensing her life was at stake.

As the two men led him down toward Hance, Jericho’s mind whirled in a hundred directions. Hance was definitely not who he claimed to be, not if he had a team of men working with him. And not if he could so easily hurt Ivy.

In fact, his calculated brutality hinted at the emotional profile of someone like Rodney James, who had no value for life, who used people for his own gain, and who slayed the innocent in the blink of an eye.

And, of course, Hance fit the physical profile in nearly every way too.

If Hance was Rodney James, then Ivy was in real danger of losing her life. And Jericho couldn’t take any chances in angering the man. He just prayed Hance hadn’t figured out his true motive for being in South Park.

“Tie him up tighter.” Hance’s gaze connected with Jericho’s, and the coldness behind the spectacles told Jericho more than any words. Hance had been playing a part these past weeks, pretending to be a normal man with a normal past. But now on the mountaintop, where no one else was around, he’d stopped acting and was revealing his true nature.

No doubt about it. The man was Rodney James.

Jericho kept his own eyes and face from revealing anything except the emotions expected of a man in his situation—bravado and fear. The fear wasn’t all that hard to conjure, since he was terrified for Ivy.

Hance’s lips curved into a semblance of a smile, as though satisfied with seeing the distress. Most of the worst criminals seemed to thrive on fear, almost as if it sated their appetite. The more Jericho could feed the man’s lust for fear, perhaps the more he could throw him off guard.

“You can do anything to me, but please leave Ivy out of this.” Jericho’s words came out desperate without his having to try too hard.