Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In the remote, rugged corner of Montana’s Glacier National Park known as the Devil’s Grasp, little Paige Baker of San Francisco disappears with her dog, Kobee, while on a camping trip with her family; or so her mother and father have told authorities.
A multi-agency task force launches a massive search as Paige fights to survive in the wilderness. Time hammers against her and soon the nation is gripped by the life-and-death drama.
Secretly, behind the scenes, the FBI grows suspicious of Paige’s parents. Their recent history and disturbing evidence links them to a horrible secret from the past.
About the author:
Rick Mofina is a former crime reporter and the award-winning author of several acclaimed thrillers.
The International Thriller Writers, The Private Eye Writers of America and The Crime Writers of Canada have Rick Mofina's books as being among the best in the world. His titles have been published in some 20 countries and have been praised by James Patterson, Dean Koontz, Michael Connelly, Lee Child, Tess Gerritsen, Jeffery Deaver, Sandra Brown, James Rollins, Brad Thor, Nick Stone, David Morrell, Allison Brennan, Heather Graham, Linwood Barclay, Peter Robinson, Håkan Nesser and Kay Hooper.
“Doug! It’s happening again. Please not again!” Emily raised her face to the ceiling. “God, why!” Doug’s heart nearly broke from his chest; his mind, a whirlwind of rage, fear, desperation. He pulled Emily tight, as much to hang on to his sanity as to comfort her. Paige is alive! At least it appears they have signs she is alive. God! They have to find her! They have to do something. Anything. Think, Baker. Time is running out. Damn it. Think. You are not going to sit here doing nothing. Not
tears rushing down her cheeks from under her dark glasses. Mommy and Daddy are coming, sweetheart. Doug reached back, his hand finding Emily’s, squeezing it as they gained speed. Strange, Nash thought. Never saw FBI agents holding hands on duty. “Hey, you guys like CCR?” EIGHTY It was her. Paige Baker. Yes. And her dog. A beagle. A glimpse through his binoculars. One, maybe two kilometers off before they vanished into a thick spruce forest. He had to locate her again. RCMP Sergeant
“Fine.” “Bowman do you know Pike Thornton, a ranger at Glacier?” “Not really. I know of him.” “Do you know Inspector Sydowski with the SFPD?” “No.” “Do you know anything about this file, about suspected criminal intent?” “I have been briefed.” “You’re with--what is it?--Internet liason? GFP?” sounded like he was reading something alien, “I never heard--and this is your first investigation?” “Yes.” “You sure you are on this case? Did they call the right person out there?” “Yes.” “Then
scribbled contact numbers from reporters with the most recent requests to interview Isaiah Hood. He went through the file. Cohen had rejected all requests. Hood had never, ever, been interviewed. Now most news attention had been drawn to the lost girl story. Here it was. Cohen had a priority list of cell numbers for about half a dozen big outlets. All print because it was easier and quicker to get a print reporter inside the prison. Most of the people on the list had called recently saying they
Everyone distant, distorted, like people talking underwater, drowned out by the beating of her heart ringing in her ears. “…we’re at one hundred feet now…” Every iota of Emily’s being was focused on the TV monitor and the tiny camera searching the crevasse for her daughter. The horror was clawing at her; the camera was dropping deeper and deeper, its intense light reflecting the slick, sweating rock walls, like the throat of some overwhelming evil entity. “…one hundred twenty…” Did she fall