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  Some mistakes can never be forgotten—or forgiven.

  Janie Klassyn was only fourteen years old when she made the blood pact with her friends. She could never imagine she was setting in motion the horrifying crime that would tear her peaceful prairie town apart.

  Twenty years later in California, school counselor Emma Grant struggles to keep her past buried. But when she finds a note on her car threatening to reveal her secret, it becomes harder to keep up the deception. Even her teenage stepdaughter suspects that Emma is hiding something. Now, with her celebrated true-crime author husband digging into a decades-old murder case for his next book, and a suspicious accident involving someone who’s been following her, the perfect life Emma’s built is crumbling, forcing her to take desperate steps to save it...

  Praise for the novels of Rick Mofina

  “A blood pact, a horrific crime, and a lifetime of secrets and lies come back to haunt in this layered, engrossing thriller. Their Last Secret is Rick Mofina at his edge-of-your-seat, can’t-stop-turning-the-pages best as he dives deep into questions of truth, justice, and ultimately redemption. A riveting, moving read.”

  —Lisa Unger, New York Times bestselling author of The Stranger Inside

  “Well-developed characters and an intense pace add to this gripping novel. This latest from a gifted storyteller should not be missing from your reading pile.”

  —Library Journal (starred review) on Missing Daughter

  “Rick Mofina’s books are edge-of-your seat thrilling. Page-turners that don’t let up.”

  —Louise Penny, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “A pulse-pounding nail-biter.”

  —The Big Thrill on Last Seen

  “Six Seconds should be Rick Mofina’s breakout thriller. It moves like a tornado.”

  —James Patterson, 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.”

  —Jeffery Deaver, New York Times bestselling author

  “The Panic Zone is a headlong rush toward Armageddon. Its brisk pace and tight focus remind me of early Michael Crichton.”

  —Dean Koontz, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Rick Mofina’s tense, taut writing makes every thriller he writes an adrenaline-packed ride.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Tess Gerritsen

  Also by Rick Mofina

  THE LYING HOUSE

  MISSING DAUGHTER

  LAST SEEN

  FREE FALL

  EVERY SECOND

  FULL TILT

  WHIRLWIND

  INTO THE DARK

  THEY DISAPPEARED

  THE BURNING EDGE

  IN DESPERATION

  THE PANIC ZONE

  VENGEANCE ROAD

  SIX SECONDS

  Other books by Rick Mofina

  A PERFECT GRAVE

  EVERY FEAR

  THE DYING HOUR

  BE MINE

  NO WAY BACK

  BLOOD OF OTHERS

  COLD FEAR

  IF ANGELS FALL

  BEFORE SUNRISE

  THE ONLY HUMAN

  And look for Rick Mofina’s next thriller,

  SEARCH FOR HER,

  coming soon...

  Rick Mofina

  Their Last Secret

  This book is for

  Ron Collins,

  Helen Dolik

  &

  Mario Toneguzzi,

  my partners in crime.

  Those were the days, my friends.

  Contents

  Epigraph

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Chapter Eighty

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  Acknowledgments & A Personal Note

  “When you murder someone, they never die. You watch their life drain from their eyes, feel the last pulse of their heart, their last desperate gasp. But the dead never stay dead. They live in your nightmares, haunting you for the rest of your life, because of what you did and what you are.”

  —From the confidential diary of a young killer, “Girl B”

  Eternity: The Story of Homicide in a Small Town by Benjamin Grant

  One

  Eternity, Manitoba

  2000

  Waiting to die. Or dying to get out.

  Those seemed like your only choices when fate had dumped you in a small, prairie town where nothing happened and y
our secret torment burned like a lit fuse.

  That’s how it was for Janie, Nikki and Marie, best friends born in and, as Nikki said, condemned to, Eternity.

  The rest of civilization was at least a two-hour drive east in the metropolis of Winnipeg. Saskatchewan was about an hour west. Nothing to see there but the sky and land so flat you’d think you were driving to the edge of the world.

  Drive south for about an hour and you’d see rolling hills, or what some people called mountains, until you came to the North Dakota border. If you really wanted to push things, you could spend a day getting to Minneapolis, Minnesota.

  If you were Janie, Nikki and Marie, growing up in Eternity, there was nowhere to go. You were a prisoner, yearning for something, anything, to happen.

  They’d all just turned fourteen in the previous months. It was the summer that preceded high school. A fact they were pondering on another scorching day while they considered things to do as they walked through town.

  The Windflower Mall was out because last month the clerks at the drug mart had suspected Nikki of shoplifting eyeliner. They couldn’t prove it because she’d deftly dropped the evidence in an old lady’s bag. Still, security called police. Nikki wasn’t charged but they took her fingerprints and her picture, and under some law or rule, banned her from the building for six months. Nikki took it as both a badge of honor and an affront that stoked the rage forever bubbling under her skin. For as long as Janie and Marie had known her, Nikki seemed to be at war with the world, carrying a deep, invisible wound.

  “They can ban me for all my life—I don’t care,” Nikki said. “We see the same people at the food court, nothing to do there but laugh at seniors, Hutterites and cripples.”

  Besides, Nikki boasted, she’d stolen enough makeup from that place to last years and she piled it on to create the mask she hid behind. With her quickly maturing body, she looked older than Janie and Marie, who believed her claim that she was no longer a virgin.

  After Nikki’s father died when she was younger, her mother, who was a cashier at Eternity Market Mart, began drinking and gambling, running up massive debts until she couldn’t pay the bills. She met a man named Telforde, a contract painter at the bar, and they moved in with him. That was her family. Nikki smoked, drank her mother’s alcohol, read dark books and listened to bands like Exact a Toll and Kill Me Now.

  As for Marie, she had beautiful skin and soft brown eyes. She was a smart-dumb girl, a genius at math and science but always missing the obvious in real life. She was self-conscious about being a little heavy. A few years ago, her little brother, Pike, had choked on a piece of apple when the family was having a picnic by the creek. He died right in front of her. Marie felt safest with Janie and Nikki. They allowed her to love NSYNC, the Backstreet Boys and maintain her crush on one of the Hanson brothers. She was always humming “MMMBop,” because Pike had loved it.

  Janie’s battle with zits didn’t detract from her almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Of the three girls, Janie’s personality was the sweetest. She loved French fries, Coke, ice cream and Elton John. She liked all kinds of music, even—to Nikki’s horror—country. But the weird thing was all three of them loved one particular song, an old one, “Ring of Fire.” They sang it together, belting out the chorus because for each of them something was burning inside.

  The girls had known each other all their lives and while Janie was not sure what she wanted to do with hers, she was resolute in her desire to one day get as far away from Eternity as possible. To move someplace like New York, London or Paris. She was already working on her dream by saving her babysitting money.

  Janie and her friends were determined to leave this town for their own painful reasons. But today, they just wanted to escape boredom.

  “We haven’t been to the cemetery in a while,” Nikki suggested, once more forgetting about Marie, not seeing the hurt in her eyes.

  Nikki liked counting the graves, guessing how people had died. Once she jumped into a freshly dug grave and lay in it for a while. “It’s cold in here.” Janie and Marie had to help her climb out.

  It was during the last time they’d gone to the cemetery and Nikki was doing her Empress of the Dark thing when Marie couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I hate it when you do this crap. I don’t like coming here like this.”

  Nikki smirked and shrugged. Fighting tears, Marie ran across the cemetery. Janie and Nikki let her go, then sat under the shade of the tall poplar trees, listening to the birdsong. In the distance they saw Marie kneeling at her brother’s grave, which they always avoided when they came here, the breezes carrying her voice as she sang Pike’s favorite song.

  Some days Marie got so sad about Pike. Other days it was like she was almost glad he was dead. It was a little disturbing.

  Now, after digesting Nikki’s suggestion, Marie said: “I do not want to go to the cemetery today.”

  Nikki took stock of Marie’s face, reconsidered. “What about the railroad tracks or down to the creek?”

  “We’ve done all those places to death,” Janie said.

  “What about the restaurant at the golf course?” Marie said.

  Nikki rolled her eyes and Janie gave Marie a sharp glance, correcting Marie’s memory lapse as to why the Eternity Country Club was off-limits.

  Janie’s mother was a waitress at the club’s restaurant, a job she was still clinging to after the incident that happened the first and only time the girls had gone there.

  It was in the spring and Nikki had dared them to go. “We’re just as good as those rich snobs,” Nikki had said. “I bet they’ve got the best desserts and I’ve got money from the creep.” She waved cash she’d stolen from her mom’s boyfriend.

  Janie had been uneasy about going to the restaurant because of her mother’s caution. “I know you and your friends wander all over town but you are never to go there,” her mother had said. “It’s not for us. It’s not the mall—it’s where I work. Do you understand?”

  Janie had never set foot in the place.

  A few times in the past she, Marie and Nikki had walked up to the gate of the forbidden kingdom, marveling at its vast and perfect green lawns, the trees, the waterfall, people gliding around in the little carts and the clubhouse, a low-standing stone building that beckoned them.

  They were curious about what it would be like to go inside.

  Maybe it was Nikki’s bold defiance of authority that drove her to break rules. The way she saw it, the world owed her a better life than the one she was living, and maybe it was because she seemed older, more experienced, but these forces shaped her persona, never failing to pull Janie and Marie into her orbit.

  “Are you little girls afraid to walk in there? Because I’m not.” Nikki had challenged them that day.

  Marie turned to Janie—it was up to her.

  It was a Saturday and Janie’s mom was not working at the golf course. When Janie had left that morning, she was still in bed. Janie had figured by the empty bottle on the kitchen table from the night before that she’d be sleeping much of the day. Ever since Janie’s dad had walked out on them two years ago, leaving them nothing but bills, her mother had become what Janie had later learned was a functioning alcoholic.

  “Come on,” Nikki said.

  “But we’re not members,” Janie said. “We won’t get in.”

  “We’ll get in. I’ll do all the talking,” Nikki said. “Let’s do it. It’ll be fun.”

  Janie saw sparks in Nikki’s eyes, felt herself being pulled, felt her resistance crumble. Nikki was their leader and always would be. So they went, setting in motion events that would change Eternity forever.

  Two

  Eternity, Manitoba

  2000

  When the girls got to the host station, Nikki was prepared.

  “My dad’s finishing his game. He said that me and my friends were sup
posed to wait for him in the restaurant. His name’s William Carruthers.”

  The host guy gave them a quick, guarded appraisal before he started looking in his book. The air was appetizing, inviting and carried the sound of conversations, cutlery clinking. “I’m afraid he doesn’t appear to be listed.”

  Janie tugged at Nikki’s wrist, a signal to abandon the plan. Nikki shrugged it off.

  “We’re from Winnipeg,” Nikki said. “He’s discussing business with people here, big business.”

  “Do you know who he’s with, the member’s name, perhaps?”

  “I don’t. But if it’s a problem I’ll just tell my dad you couldn’t let us in.”

  Weighing her subtle threat and the ramifications, the host smiled. “No. Not a problem. For three?”

  “Four. For when my dad comes,” Nikki said. “He likes to be by the window.”

  “Of course. Right this way.”

  He led them to a corner with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out to a sea of green. Their table was dark wood with rolled white linen napkins, ornate glass goblets and high-backed white leather chairs. Soft music was playing as their server, a woman Janie did not know, brought them menus. They each ordered sodas and apple pie with ice cream.

  “This pie is so good,” Marie said. “I feel like royalty.”

  “Look at them over there showing off their money.” Nikki glanced at the other tables, eyeing men as some paid, signing and leaving cash tips. “We’re just as good as those rich people, right, Janie?”

  Janie had stopped in midchew, emotions swirling as, across the dining room, she saw her mother taking an order. Believing she was home, Janie was shocked. At the same time, witnessing her mother in a servile situation, displaying an artificial smile, one Janie had never seen before, filled her with embarrassment, sadness. And fear.

  For upon finishing, her mother turned, recognition flashing like lightning on her face as she moved directly toward their table.

  “Oh God,” Janie said.

  Her friends’ attention shifted to Janie’s mother.

  “What’re you doing here, Janie?”

  “I thought you were home.”

  “I took an extra shift. How did you get in?”