James Patterson is the Danielle Steel of mysteries, which is to say he writes flat characters, repetitive points and hilariously unreal dialogue and makes millions for it. This book was trash. All the villains immediately confessed as soon as they were asked to come with the police. They are all super rich. Surely they know a lawyer who could throw out the case because none of them were read their Miranda rights, but they all seemed like Scooby Doo villains who were content to give up the game as soon as they were caught. I knew the moment he was introduced who the murderer was, and oh boy, I was right! The male cop is in love with the female cop because they can’t just be coworkers. They let the guy who murdered four people walk away because the people he murdered were bad. Honestly, you’d do better watching an episode of SVU; you’d get a more realistic and interesting plot, and Ice-T saying something dumb to boot. Will not be reading another Patterson novel.