Middle of Nowhere

Praise for
Middle of Nowhere
:

“Excitement quotient: high; technology details: intriguing.” —
USA Today

“Master plotter, reliable thrills from a pro.”

—Kirkus Reviews

“Fast-paced read from beginning to end. Pearson is able to effortlessly intertwine several detailed plot lines while still keeping his story firmly robed in reality.” —
New York Post

“Pearson uses clear, forthright prose that perfectly exposes the psychological doubts and fears of his characters and keeps the plot racing from scene to scene. Craftily, Pearson weaves his web.”

—Providence Sunday Journal

Praise for
The First Victim:

“Razor sharp plotting and timing.”

—Seattle Times

“There is no one writing police novels with the precise touch of Pearson. His stories are thoroughly researched, heartbreaking and full of escalating suspense.” —
Denver Rocky Mountain News

Praise for
The Pied Piper:

“Pearson proves once again that he can put together a big-scale, big-time police manhunt better than anybody else in the business.”

—Kirkus Reviews

“A master of this genre. We all should thank Ridley Pearson for the gift of good characters and great plots.”
 —Washington Times

“Pearson is a first-rate writer, and
The Pied Piper
won’t disappoint his growing number of fans.”

—Knight Ridder News Service

Praise for
Beyond Recognition:

“Pearson’s dazzling forensics will hook his usual fans. But it’s the richness of incident and the control of pace that’ll keep them dangling as he switches gears each time you think the story’s got to be winding down in this exhilarating entertainment.”

—Kirkus Reviews

“Pearson has all the sharps and flats he needs to keep his roller-coaster rhythm rising and falling, speeding and slowing, yet somehow always building, winding us tighter.” —
Booklist

“Pearson has the details of a murder investigation down cold.”
 —San Francisco Chronicle

Praise for
Chain of Evidence
:

“This is an impeccable, high-speed thriller.”

—Boston Sunday Globe

“Pearson handles the complex plot with grace and speed, packing a potent blend of action and procedural information into his work. A must-read for thriller fans.”
 —Chicago Tribune

“The gadget man is back with a bag of new toys. You don’t have to be a techno-nerd to get wired on this scary stuff.” —
New York Times Book Review

“Pearson weaves psychology and suspense into this tale of high-tech clues and complex motives.”

—Playboy

“Ridley Pearson is an unequivocal success. I’m hooked again.” —
Entertainment Weekly

Praise for
No Witnesses:

“Tough and intelligent.” —
Fort Worth Star Telegram

“Up-to-the-nanosecond techno-thriller.”

—New York Times

“Infused with astonishingly effective overtones.”

—Boston Globe

“Good old-fashioned storytelling.”

—Washington Post Book World

“A serious, well-researched, complex thriller.”

—Los Angeles Times

Praise for
The Angel Maker:

“Exceptionally gripping and full of amazing forensic lore: a top-flight offering from an author who has clearly found his groove.” —
Kirkus
Reviews

“A chilling thriller.” —Dell Publishing

Praise for
Hard Fall:

“Pearson excels at novels that grip the imagination.
Hard Fall
is an adventure with all engines churning.”

—People
magazine

“Mesmerizing urgency.”

—Los Angeles Times Book Review

“Nifty cat-and-mouse caper. Crisply written tale.”

—Chicago Tribune

Praise for
Undercurrents:

“Neatly constructed plot. Hair-raising denouement. Remarkable insight and understanding of the motivations of the criminal mind.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Undercurrents
is a roller-coaster ride in the dark.”

—Book of the Month

Praise for
Probable Cause:

“Filled with clues, both planted and missed, fancy forensic footwork, and intriguing snares. A whole lot of suspense. A satisfying, gripping police procedural.”

—Booklist

“A sleek, cleverly plotted part-psychological thriller, part-courtroom drama.” —
Los Angeles Times

Praise for
Never Look Back:

“A masterly debut. Powerful yet poignant suspense story.”
 —Booklist

“A breakneck-action first novel.”

—Kirkus Reviews

ALSO BY RIDLEY PEARSON

Parallel Lies

The First Victim
*

The Pied Piper
*

Beyond Recognition
*

Chain of Evidence

No Witnesses
*

The Angel Maker
*

Hard Fall

Probable Cause

Undercurrents
*

Hidden Charges

Blood of the Albatross

Never Look Back

*features Lou Boldt

WRITING AS WENDELL MCCALL

Dead Aim

Aim for the Heart

 Concerto in Dead Flat

SHORT STORIES

“All Over but the Dying”

in
Diagnosis: Terminal,
edited by F. Paul Wilson

COLLECTIONS

The Putt at the End of the World,
a serial novel

Copyright © 2000 Ridley Pearson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the Publisher. Printed in the United States of America. For information address Hyperion, 77 West 66th Street, New York, NY 10023-6298.

ISBN 0-7868-7199-7

First eBook edition: August 2001

I’m honored to dedicate this book to my father, Robert G. Pearson, who not only brings to these pages an editorial pen, but enriches my life by demonstrating that a daily joy for living and a very real spiritual grounding can and does elevate one’s experience. You are a trusted friend to your wife, and a mentor to all three of your children—and that makes us a very special family indeed.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

T
hanks to Marsha Wilson of the Seattle Police Department; Lexis-Nexis; Louise Marsh, Nancy Litzinger, Mary Peterson, Courtney Samway and Debbie Cimino for office management; Paige, Storey and Marcelle; Gary Shelton; Matthew Snyder of CAA.

Thanks, too, to Dave and Michelle and Tater, Mitch and Janine, James and Stephanie, Amy and Lou, Little Stephen and Shift Tab.

Middle of Nowhere
was edited by Leigh Haber. Thanks again, Leigh, for the patience and hard work.

I owe a special debt of gratitude to C. J. Snow and Michele Matrisciani.

Additional story line comments came from my agent, Al Zuckerman, and were much appreciated.

To the people of Seattle, my apologies for any liberties taken herein with your incredible city. They are either mistakes, or the necessity of fiction. Your tolerance is appreciated.

PROLOGUE

B
ehind her, the garage door groaned shut, a combination of hair-raising squeals—metal on metal— and the tight, quickened shudders of rollers traveling slightly off track. The garage opener’s bulb was burned out, leaving only the yellow glare of car headlights, on a self-timer. Sharp shadows stretched across the tools and garden hoses that cluttered the walls. The room smelled of burning rubber, hot motor oil and lawn fertilizer—slightly sickening. A light rain struck the garage roof percussively.

Moving around the parked car, Maria Sanchez’s body reflected the late hour—hunched shoulders, stiff legs. She wanted a bath, some Sleepytime tea and the Amy Tan novel that awaited her. She felt the weight of her sidearm in her purse as she adjusted its strap on her shoulder. When out on active duty she wore it holstered at her side, but the last four hours of her day had been paperwork, and she had transferred the gun to her bag. At least another four to go if she were to get even partly caught up. But no more on that night. She had clocked out. Amy Tan owned the rest of her waking hours.

She closed the side door to the garage, and stepped into darkness. The light alongside the back door hadn’t come on, which surprised her since it worked off a sensor that should have automatically switched it on at sunset. It must have been burned out also. Just like the one in the garage. God, she wanted that bath.

Something moved behind her. A cop learned the difference between the elements and human beings. This was not wind, not the elements. It was human movement. Her right hand dropped and reached for a weapon she now remembered wasn’t there—her terror mounted.

The crook of a man’s elbow choked her windpipe. Next came a hard kidney punch. Sanchez’s handbag slipped to the wet grass. She tried to respond as she’d been trained—as a police officer; to compartmentalize and set aside her terror. She drove back her elbow sharply and bent forward, driving her butt into the man behind her. The attempt did nothing to loosen the grip of that chokehold. Instead, the defensive move put more pressure on her own throat, increasing the pain, restricting the blood flow. She stomped down hard— hoping to connect with an instep, shatter it. She could smell beer and sour sweat and it was these smells that increased her fear.