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![Hide: A Detective D. D. Warren Novel (D.D. Warren Book 2) by [Lisa Gardner]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51GElToIaUL._SY346_.jpg)
Hide: A Detective D. D. Warren Novel (D.D. Warren Book 2) Kindle Edition
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It was a case that haunts Bobby Dodge to this day—the case that nearly killed him and changed his life forever. Now, in an underground chamber on the grounds of an abandoned Massachusetts mental hospital, the gruesome discovery of six mummified corpses resurrects his worst nightmare: the return of a killer he thought dead and buried. There’s no place to run. . . . Bobby’s only lead is wrapped around a dead woman’s neck. Annabelle Granger has been in hiding for as long as she can remember. Her childhood was a blur of new cities and assumed identities. But what—or who—her family was running from, she never knew. Now a body is unearthed from a grave, wearing a necklace bearing Annabelle’s name, and the danger is too close to escape. This time, she’s not going to run. You know he will find you. . . .
The new threat could be the dead psychopath’s copycat, his protégé—or something far more terrifying. Dodge knows the only way to find him is to solve the mystery of Annabelle Granger, and to do that he must team up with his former lover, partner, and friend D. D. Warren from the Boston P.D. But the trail leads back to a woman from Bobby’s past who may be every bit as dangerous as the new killer—a beautiful survivor-turned-avenger with an eerie link to Annabelle. From its tense opening pages to its shocking climax, Hide is a thriller that delves into our deepest, darkest fears. Where there is no one to trust. Where there is no place left to hide.
BONUS: This edition includes a new afterword: Lights, Camera, Hide the movie!
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherBantam
- Publication dateJanuary 30, 2007
- File size3694 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“The crises are gripping, the protagonists earn quick sympathy and the pages turn with speed.”—Wall Street Journal
“Sometimes a series writer, in this case Lisa Gardner, rises above to produce a book that stands alone because it's that good. Indeed, Gardner continues with her lead character from Alone, Massachusetts state police Det. Bobby Dodge, but in Hide, she really brings her game.”—Daily News, New York
"An intense, suspenseful story…”—Chicago Tribune
From the Hardcover edition.
From Publishers Weekly
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From Booklist
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Review
“The crises are gripping, the protagonists earn quick sympathy and the pages turn with speed.”—Wall Street Journal
“Sometimes a series writer, in this case Lisa Gardner, rises above to produce a book that stands alone because it's that good. Indeed, Gardner continues with her lead character from Alone, Massachusetts state police Det. Bobby Dodge, but in Hide, she really brings her game.”—Daily News, New York
"An intense, suspenseful story…”—Chicago Tribune --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Review
About the Author
From the Hardcover edition. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
My father explained it to me the first time when I was seven years old: The world is a system. School is a system. Neighborhoods are a system. Towns, governments, any large group of people. For that matter, the human body is a system, enabled by smaller, biological subsystems.
Criminal justice, definitely a system. The Catholic Church–don't get him started. Then there's organized sports, the United Nations, and of course, the Miss America Pageant.
"You don't have to like the system," he lectured me. "You don't have to believe in it or agree with it. But you must understand it. If you can understand the system, you will survive."
A family is a system.
I'd come home from school that afternoon to discover both of my parents standing in our front room. My father, a professor of mathematics at MIT, was rarely home before seven. Now, however, he stood next to my mother's prized floral sofa, with five suitcases stacked neatly by his feet. My mother was crying. When I opened the front door, she turned away as if to shield her face, but I could still see her shoulders shaking.
Both of my parents were wearing heavy wool coats, which seemed odd, given the relatively warm October afternoon.
My father spoke first: "You need to go into your room. Pick two things. Any two things you want. But hurry, Annabelle; we don't have much time."
My mother's shoulders shook harder. I set down my backpack. I retreated to my room, where I stared at my little pink-and-green painted space.
Of all the moments in my past, this is the one I would most like to have back. Three minutes in the bedroom of my youth. Fingers skimming over my sticker-plastered desk, skipping over framed photos of my grandparents, hopscotching past my engraved silver-plated brush and oversize hand mirror. I bypassed my books. Didn't even consider my marble collection or stash of kindergarten art. I remember making a positively agonizing choice between my favorite stuffed dog and my newest treasure, a bridal-dressed Barbie. I went with my dog, Boomer, then grabbed my cherished baby blankie, dark pink flannel with a light pink satin trim.
Not my diary. Not my stash of silly, doodle-covered notes from my best friend, Dori Petracelli. Not even my baby album, which would've at least given me photos of my mother for all the years to come. I was a young, frightened child, and I behaved childishly.
I think my father knew what I would choose. I think he saw it all coming, even back then.
I returned to our family room. My father was outside, loading the car. My mom had her hands wrapped around the pillar that divided the family room from the eat-in kitchen. For a minute, I didn't think she'd let go. She would take a stand, demand that my father stop this foolishness.
Instead, she reached out and stroked my long dark hair. "I love you so much." She grabbed me, hugging me fiercely, cheeks wet against the top of my head. The next moment, she pushed me away, wiping briskly at her face.
"Outside, honey. Your father's right–we have to be quick."
I followed my mother to the car, Boomer under my arm, blankie clutched in both hands. We took our usual places–my father in the driver's seat, my mother riding shotgun, me in the back.
My father backed our little Honda out of the drive. Yellow and orange leaves swirled down from the beech tree, dancing outside the car window. I spread my fingers against the glass as if I could touch them.
"Wave at the neighbors," my father instructed. "Pretend everything is normal."
That's the last we ever saw of our little oak-dotted cul-de-sac.
A family is a system.
We drove to Tampa. My mother had always wanted to see Florida, my father explained. Wouldn't it be nice to live amid palm trees and white sandy beaches after so many New England winters?
Since my mother had chosen our location, my father had picked our names. I would now be called Sally. My father was Anthony and my mother Claire. Isn't this fun? A new town and a new name. What a grand adventure.
I had nightmares in the beginning. Terrible, terrible dreams where I would wake up screaming, "I saw something, I saw something!"
"It's only a dream," my father would attempt to soothe me, stroking my back.
"But I'm scared!"
"Hush. You're too young to know what scared is. That's what daddies are for."
We didn't live amid palm trees and white sandy beaches. My parents never spoke of it, but as an adult looking back, I realize now that a Ph.D. in mathematics couldn't very well pick up where he left off, especially under an assumed identity. Instead, my father got a job driving taxis. I loved his new job. It meant he was home most of the day, and it seemed glamorous to be picked up from school in my own personal cab.
The new school was bigger than my old one. Tougher. I think I made friends, though I don't remember many specifics about our Florida days. I have more a general sense of a surreal time and place, where my afternoons were spent being drilled in self-defense for first-graders and even my parents seemed foreign to me:
My father, constantly buzzing around our one-bedroom apartment. "What'd you say, Sally? Let's decorate a palm tree for Christmas! Yes, sir, we're having fun now!" My mother, humming absently as she painted our family room a bright shade of coral, giggling as she bought a swimsuit in November, seeming genuinely intrigued as she learned to cook different kinds of flaky white fish.
I think my parents were happy in Florida. Or at least determined. My mother decorated our apartment. My father resumed his hobby of sketching. On the nights he didn't work, my mother would pose for him beside the window, and I would lie on the couch, content to watch my father's deft strokes as he captured my mother's teasing smile in a small charcoal sketch.
Until the day I came home from school to find suitcases packed, faces grim. No need to ask this time. I went into my room on my own. Grabbed Boomer. Found my blankie. Then retreated to the car and climbed in the back.
It was a long time before anyone said a word.
A family is a system.
To this day, I don't know how many cities we lived in. Or how many names I assumed. My childhood became a blur of new faces, new towns, and the same old suitcases. We would arrive, find the cheapest one-bedroom apartment. My father would set out the next day, always coming home with some kind of job–photo developer, McDonald's manager, salesclerk. My mother would unpack our meager belongings. I would be shuffled off to school.
I know I stopped talking as much. I know my mom did, too.
Only my father remained relentlessly cheerful. "Phoenix! I've always wanted to experience the desert. Cincinnati! Now, this is my kind of town. St. Louis! This will be the place for us!"
I don't remember suffering any more nightmares. They simply went away or were pushed aside by more pressing concerns. The afternoons I came home and found my mother passed out on the sofa. The crash courses in cooking because she could no longer stand up. Brewing coffee and forcing it down her throat. Raiding her purse for money so I could buy groceries before my father returned from work.
I want to believe he had to know, but to this day I'm not sure. It seemed for my mother and me at least, the more we took on other names, the more we gave away of ourselves. Until we became silent, ethereal shadows following in my father's blustery wake.
She made it until I was fourteen. Kansas City. We'd lasted nine months. My father had risen to manager in the automotive department of Sears. I was thinking of going to my first dance.
I came home. My mother–Stella, she was called then–was facedown on the sofa. This time no amount of shaking woke her up. I have a vague memory of racing across the hall. Of banging on our neighbor's door.
"My mother, my mother, my mother!" I screamed. And poor Mrs. Torres, who'd never been granted a smile or wave from any of us, threw open her door, bustled across the hall, and hands flying to her suddenly wet eyes, declared my mother dead.
Cops came. EMTs. I watched them remove her body. Saw the empty orange prescription bottle slip out of her pocket. One of the officers picked it up. He gave me a pitying look.
"Someone we should call?"
"My father will be home soon."
He left me with Mrs. Torres. We sat in her apartment, with its rich smells of jalape—o peppers and corn tamales. I admired the brightly striped curtains she had hanging on her windows and the bold floral pillows covering her worn brown sofa. I wondered what it would be like to have a real home again.
My father arrived. Thanked Mrs. Torres profusely. Ushered me away.
"You understand we can't tell them anything?" he kept saying over and over again, once we were safely tucked back inside our apartment. "You understand we have to be very careful? I don't want you saying a word, Cindy. Not one word. This is all very, very tricky."
When the cops returned, he did the talking. I heated up chicken noodle soup in the tiny kitchenette. I wasn't really hungry. I just wanted our apartment to smell like Mrs. Torres's apartment. I wanted my mom to be back home.
I found my father crying later. Curled up on the sofa, holding my mother's tattered pink robe. He couldn't stop. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
That was the first night my father slept in my bed. I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't like that.
A family is a system.
We waited three months for my mother's body. The state wanted an autopsy. I never did understand it all. But one day we had my mom back. We accompanied her from the morgue's office to the funeral home. She was put in a box labeled with someone else's name, then ... --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From AudioFile
Product details
- ASIN : B000NJL7LE
- Publisher : Bantam (January 30, 2007)
- Publication date : January 30, 2007
- Language : English
- File size : 3694 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 482 pages
- Best Sellers Rank: #45,070 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #963 in Psychological Thrillers (Kindle Store)
- #1,563 in Psychological Thrillers (Books)
- #1,683 in Crime Thrillers (Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author

New York Times #1 bestselling crime novelist Lisa Gardner began her career in food service, but after catching her hair on fire numerous times, she took the hint and focused on writing instead. A self-described research junkie, she has parlayed her interest in police procedure, criminal minds and twisted plots into a streak of bestselling suspense novels. Her 2010 novel, THE NEIGHBOR, won Best Thriller from the International Thriller Writers. Most recently, she was honored with the Silver Bullet Award for her work with at-risk kids and homeless animals. Lisa loves to hike, travel the world, and yes, read, read, read!
Readers are invited to enter the annual "Kill a Friend, Maim a Buddy" Sweepstakes, where they can nominate the person of their choice to die in Lisa's latest novel. People have nominated themselves, spouses, bosses. It's cheaper than therapy and twice as much fun! For more details, visit Lisa's website.
Lisa's latest novel BEFORE SHE DISAPPEARED, is available January 19, 2021. Meet Frankie Elkin, an everyday average woman who specializes in finding missing people. When the locals have given up, when the media has never bothered to care, Frankie takes on the challenge. Her latest mission has brought her to Mattapan, Boston to find a missing Haitian teen. Eleven months later, Angelique Badeau's disappearance remains a mystery. What happened to the quiet, studious teen? Frankie learns quickly the dangers of asking too many questions, but that won't stop her from discovering the truth behind what happened BEFORE SHE DISAPPEARED.
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Reviewed in the United States on March 11, 2018
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Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
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State Police Detective Bobby Dodge is back, and together with female Sergeant D. D. Warren and the task force, they must solve a crime involving missing children.
Not since the UNSUB series by Meg Gardiner have I enjoyed a crime thriller this much. It kept me guessing until almost the end. I knew I couldn't go to bed until I finished it. Five stars!
Lisa Gardner has penned an incredibly complex, twisted, and gripping suspense novel in Hide, pairing former sniper turned state detective Bobby Dodge together with ex-lover and now Boston PD Seargent D.D. Warren to solve a case with a myriad more questions than answers. A veritable rabbit warren of paths lead to clues and connections that only a true mastermind of suspense could ever dream up, and I was utterly compelled by the intensity and vitality of the story and characters. With impeccable pacing, the plot twists tighter and tighter as Annabelle goes to the police to both get answers and give them, and Bobby finds himself drawn to the reclusive woman with such stark strength in her eyes, but Annabelle's emergence from a lifetime of shadows sparks a sick and twisted mind to focus on her yet again. Apparently not even a lifetime can stop evil when it's intent enough.
I loved this book. It was creepy and dark and the threat was carefully controlled and dished out by the author with a sparing intensity that was chilling. I, much like Annabelle, was totally committed to finding out why her father had been so out-of-his-mind paranoid, and the revelations were mind boggling as the truth slowly comes to light. Kudos to Gardner for her wicked, twisted psyche and her deft ability to translate that into imaginative works of macabre entertainment.
My only - small - complaints were that I had to kind of sit on my suspension of disbelief and force it to behave when it came to how much access Annabelle was given to the case. I found that a little implausible, but once I beat that suspension of disbelief into submission, I just enjoyed the ride. I also thought the final conflict was a little too convenient and a bit too many of the wild warren paths led to the same den, so to speak. The only thing that I really wish had been different, though, was I wish that the romance between Bobby and Annabelle had been given a bit more room to breathe, because I enjoyed their attraction. It was extremely subtle in developing, and have to admit, Bobby acted very professionally overall, but I read this under the impression that it was a romantic suspense novel, and that's not exactly true. I consider this a suspense thriller with a thread of romance in it. A tiny thread.
Overall though, this was an eminently enjoyable read that kept me wildly flipping pages well into the night until I had all the answers. Very well done. It's been quite some time since I've read a Lisa Gardner book, but after Hide I don't think I'll be staying away nearly so long ever again. 4.5 Stars.
Originally reviewed on One Good Book Deserves Another.
Top reviews from other countries

Another great story featuring D.D. Warren and Bobby Dodge.

Detective Bobby Dodge is introduced to us again in this new thriller. When the discovery of six bodies is made in an abandoned hospital, he feels the fear creeping up on him. Is this the return of his worst nightmare and is it coming back to haunt him?
Annabelle Granger has been running for years. Never knowing why but just trailing along behind her family. Always changing name and identity, and nearly 30 years later she is still doing it and can't quite work out why. When a body is discovered with wearing Annabelle's locket and she is named as the dead girl in the paper she decides she will no longer hide in fear, but that it's time to confront her past. Before long she realises that this may be what her family were running from and now they are after her.
With Bobby's discovery of the bodies he realises that he can't face this challenge alone and asks his old time lover and partner DD Warren from Boston PD to help him. They quickly realise that this could be a copycat murder or it could be something more sinister than that. Unfortunately for Bobby, his past isn't leaving him alone and is more tied up in this case than he could imagine.
As usual Lisa Gardner has produced a fantastic book with edgy writing and a great character. The story keeps you interested enough to keep turning the pages and before you know it your nearly finished. She is fast becoming one of my top ten authors and I would recommend her books to anybody who likes reading the thriller/crime type of book. I also think that if she carries on producing books this good, the following for the Bobby Dodge series could well be as good as the following for the Quincy series.


I had already read the first book about DD and Bobby and hadn't realised the link when I bought this one as I'd read 3 or 4 books in the mean time but, though it's always helpful to already know the foundation of the character's it's not integral to enjoying this follow up.
This author is now on my 'readable' list :)
