Jeffery Deaver, New York Times bestselling author
"Six Seconds is a great read. Echoing Ludlum and Forsythe, author Mofina has penned a big, solid international thriller that grabs your gut -- and your heart -- in the opening scenes and never lets go."
A California mother’s anguished search for her abducted son and a detective’s investigation into an American reporter’s strange death in the Canadian Rockies, lead them to uncover a global plot to assassinate a world leader – using the California boy as the weapon.
To locals, the Star-Journal was an eyesore in need of last rites.
To Maggie Conlin it was a last chance to find her son.
It had been five months since Jake vanished with Logan.
The day after it happened the county had dispatched a deputy to check her house for foul play before sending Maggie to Vic Thompson, a grumpy, overworked detective. He said Jake had ten days from the date of Maggie’s complaint to give the D.A. an address, a number and to start custody proceedings.
When that didn’t happen, the county issued a warrant for Jake’s arrest for parental abduction. Maggie gave Thompson all their bank, credit card, phone, computer, school and medical records.
He told her to get an attorney.
Trisha Helm, the cheapest available lawyer Maggie could find, “first visit is free,” advised her to start divorce action and claim custody.
“I don’t want a divorce. I need to find Jake and talk to him.”
In that case, Trisha suggested Maggie hire a private detective and steered her to Lyle Billings, a P.I. at Farrow Investigations. Maggie gave Billings copies of all their personal records and a check. Two weeks later, he told her that Jake had not renewed his license in any U.S. state, Canadian province or territory, nor was Logan registered in any school system.
“Assume he changed their names,” Billings said. “Creating a new identity is easier than most people think.”
The agency needed more money to continue searching. Maggie couldn’t afford it so she searched on her own, spending most nights on her computer. She’d contacted truckers’ groups and missing kids organizations, pleading to newsletters and blogs.
She scoured news sites for crashes involving rigs and boys Logan’s age.
With each new tragedy Maggie’s stomach knotted. Maggie attended support groups. They told her to get the press interested in her struggle to find Jake and Logan. Every few days, then every week, she worked her list: the Los Angeles Times, the Orange County Register, the Riverside Press-Enterprise, nearly every TV and radio station in the southland.
Every news person had stopped taking her calls, except Stacy Kurtz, the Star-Journal’s crime reporter.
At least Stacy would listen. Maggie had never met her but sometimes her picture ran with her articles. Stacy wore dark framed glasses, hoop earrings and a smile that her job was slowly hardening. Her daily reporting of the latest shooting, fire, drowning, car crash or variant urban tragedy, taking something from her. Some days, she looked older than she was.
“I can’t guarantee we’ll do a story, but I’ll listen as long as you keep me posted on any developments,” Stacy’s to-the-point manner placed a premium on her time in a business ruled by deadlines.
For Maggie, time was evaporating.
What if she never found Logan? Never saw him again?
Day by day, her hope faded like the flag over the Star-Journal where she’d come this morning with nothing but a prayer.