Patterson’s stand-alone novels are hit or miss — you know, as if he wasn’t actually involved in writing them. But this one started out with excellent promise and then just shit the bed and then set it on fire. A serial killer is traveling the US, killing people and staging the murders so expertly to look like accidental fires. An FBI researcher is hellbent on getting everyone to believe her that this man exists and they must find him. Only, she’s so unpleasant a character, you really kind of don’t want her to win.
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