The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 1996 by James Patterson.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
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First eBook Edition: December 1996
ISBN: 978-0-446-40929-2
Contents
Book Two: Calm Before the Storm
BOOK FOUR: Dark Side of the Moon
MORE RAVES FOR JAMES PATTERSON AND HIS COMPELLING
NEW YORK TIMES
BESTSELLER
HIDE AND SEEK
“A twisty narrative that barrels along swiftly … a hair-raising ride.”
—
People
“A novel built for speed.”
—
Boston Globe
“James Patterson does everything but stick our fingers in a light socket to give us a buzz.”
—
New York Times
“Masterful. … A riveting psychological thriller. … Patterson gives his admirers a roller-coaster ride through a vivid, emotional tale that leads inexorably to a truly shattering climax.”
—
Naples Daily News
“Alex Cross is to the 90s what Mike Hammer was to the 50s.”
—
Denver Post
“Gripping.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Alex Cross is the fictional detective of the 90s.”
—Ann Rule
“James Patterson is to suspense what Danielle Steel is to romance.”
—
New York Daily News
“Patterson develops characters with broad strokes and fine lines. Even the villains are multilayered and believable.”
—
Nashville Banner
“Patterson's skill at building suspense is enviable, and it's impossible to read the book slowly.”
—
Kansas City Star
“Patterson is an excellent writer.”
—
Lexington Herald-Leader
“Patterson hit the ball out of the park with his last go-round, the bestselling
Along Came a Spider. Kiss the Girls
is even better.”
—
Dallas Morning News
“As good as a thriller can get. … With
Kiss the Girls
, Patterson joins the elite company of Thomas Harris and John Sanford.”
—
San Francisco Examiner
“Warning: Do not read
Kiss the Girls
on a dark winter night if you are home alone. This is another Patterson scare.”
—
Oakland Press
“
Kiss the Girls
is impossible to put down.”
—
Detroit News and Free Press
“
Along Came a Spider
is a first-rate thriller—fasten your seatbelts and keep the lights on.”
—Sidney Sheldon
“
Along Came a Spider
is written simply, powerfully, with shifting points of view. The book will satisfy mystery and thriller fans, as well as students of the human condition.”
—
Washington Post Book World
“
Along Came a Spider
deserves to be this season's #1 bestseller and should instantly make James Patterson a household name.”
—Nelson DeMille
T
HE NOVELS OF JAMES PATTERSON
Featuring Alex Cross
Mary, Mary
London Bridges
The Big Bad Wolf
Four Blind Mice
Violets Are Blue
Roses Are Red
Pop Goes the Weasel
Cat & Mouse
Jack & Jill
Kiss the Girls
Along Came a Spider
The Women's Murder Club
4
TH
of July
(and Maxine Paetro)
3
RD
Degree
(and Andrew Gross)
2
ND
Chance
(and Andrew Gross)
1
ST
to Die
Other Books
The Lifeguard
(
and Andrew Gross
)
Maximum Ride
Honeymoon
(and Howard Roughan)
santaKid
Sam's Letters to Jennifer
The Lake House
The Jester
(and Andrew Gross)
The Beach House
(and Peter de Jonge)
Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas
Cradle and All
Black Friday
When the Wind Blows
See How They Run
Miracle on the 17
th
Green
(and Peter de Jonge)
Hide & Seek
The Midnight Club
Season of the Machete
The Thomas Berryman Number
For more information about James Patterson's novels, visit
www.jamespatterson.com
For Carole Anne, Isabelle Anne, and Mary Ellen: the mothers of invention
Hide & Seek
I
LAY WITHOUT moving in the low, narrow crawl space under the front porch of our home near West Point. My face was pressed tightly against the brutally cold, frozen ground littered with dry leaves and scratchy brambles. I knew I was going to die soon, and so was my baby girl. The words from a song, Crosby, Stills, and Nash—
“Our house is a very, very, very fine house”
— played in my mind.
“Don't cry … oh please don't cry,” I whispered into my baby's ear.
There was
no way out
—no escape from here, at least not carrying the baby. I was smart, and I'd thought of every possible escape route.
None of them would work
.
Phillip was going to kill us when he found our hiding place. I couldn't let him. I just didn't know how I could stop it. I kept my hand lightly over Jennie's mouth. “You mustn't make a sound, sweetheart. I love you. You mustn't make a sound.”
I could hear Phillip raging above us inside the house.
Our house
. He was rampaging from floor to floor, ransacking rooms, overturning furniture. Angry. Relentless. Absolutely crazy. Worse than he'd ever been. It was cocaine this time, but really it was life that Phillip couldn't handle very well.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are, Maggie … come out, Maggie and Jennie …
it's only Daddy
. Daddy's going to find you anyway,” Phillip screamed over and over until he was hoarse. “Come out, come out, Maggie … game's over.
“Maggie,
I command you
to come out wherever the hell you're hiding, you disobedient little bitch.”
I lay shivering under the old sagging porch. My teeth were chattering again.
This couldn't be happening. It was unthinkable
. I gently held my little girl, who had wet her pants. “You mustn't cry, Jennie. Please don't cry. Don't cry. You're such a good little girl. I love you so much.”
Jennie nodded, and stared into my eyes. I wished that this were a nightmare. That it would go away. But it wasn't a bad dream. This was as real as my mother's fatal heart attack when I was thirteen years old and the only one home. This was even worse.
I could hear my husband,
my husband
, stomping up and down the stairs of the house. He was still screaming … hadn't stopped screaming for over an hour. Pounding his fist against the walls.
Captain Phillip Bradford. Math instructor at the Academy. Officer and gentleman
. That was what everyone believed, what they wanted to believe, what I had believed myself.
The hour stretched to two hours
.
Then to three hours
in the pitch-black, freezing-cold crawl space—in this living hell.
Mercifully, Jennie had finally fallen asleep. I held her to my chest, tried to keep her warm. I wanted to sleep myself, give up the fight, but I knew I mustn't do that. It was very early in the morning. One of Phillip's witching hours—maybe three
A.M.?
Maybe four?
I heard the front door slam like a clap of thunder in the night. Loud footsteps exploded on the porch just over my head.
Jennie woke up.
“Shhh,”
I whispered.
“Shhh.”
“Maggie! I know you're here.
I know it!
I'm not a stupid man. There's nowhere to run to.”
“Daddy … Daddy!”
Jennie cried out, the way she had so many times in the safety of her crib.
A flashlight suddenly shone under the porch. Bright, terrifying light blinded me. A thousand sharp splinters in my eyes.
“Peekaboo! There you are!
There's Jennie and Maggie. There's my two girls,” Phillip shouted in triumph. His voice was so hoarse and raw, it was nearly unrecognizable. I could almost make myself believe that this insane man
wasn't
my husband. How could he be?