You will absolutely love this book if you like long, complicated stories with an endless cast of characters and a barely there romance arc between characters who have the hots for each other, though you can't quite figure out why. Toward the end of the book (p. 452 out of 524), one of the characters helpfully summarizes the story: "Serial child molesters, murderers, case fixers, a cop gone bad, his kidnapped child, and a mastermind eliminating anyone who gets close to the truth. Makes my head spin."
The back-of-the-cover blurb was compelling, but ultimately I didn't find the premise all that interesting, but I was never annoyed enough to put the book down for good, just not drawn into it. Because I read it in a desultory fashion over a couple of weeks (while whining "How much farther? Are we there yet?") I lost track and interest in the scores of characters: her friends, his extended family, his cop/attorney buddies, the many bad guys and their families, etc. If I had read faster, it would not have been such a chore. Karen actually is amazing with handling so many characters; in the hands of a less competent writer it would have been impossible to read without a chart of character relationships.
The conflict between the hero and heroine is very clearly explained, but it doesn't serve to drive the plot, so the romantic element seems more of a dutiful add-on.
The biggest problem I had with the book was the stilted dialogue and narrative. It sounded as though someone had written it in careful, precise English, with syntax that most people do not use in actual speech. I found myself revising the text in my mind as I was reading.
So here are some examples:
"I'd be more worried about a murder charge, were I you," Grayson said. (p. 251).
"That's between my office and Rex. Of course, should he choose to share it with you, that's his business" (Grayson again, p. 253).
Narrative in heroine's point-of-view: "Someone was safe who otherwise wouldn't be. That was what she needed to hold on to when the mocking voice intruded. The faces of the victims she had kept safe were what she needed to remember when she woke from the nightmare" (p. 5)
Then there's a little (unintentional?) sub-theme of identity that goes on too long:
"Silas had admired her more than once. Of course he wasn't that kind of man, even if she'd been that kind of woman" (p. 285).
Three paragraphs later: "That's the kind of man the prosecutor was" (p. 285).
"No. That's not who she was. Is. He'd tried to hurt me, but my.... She could have called the cops, but...." (p. 313).
"What mattered was the man you'd become" (p. 315).
Oh, one other nit: My favorite character was Peabody, the rottweiler guard dog, but alas all he does is growl and, toward the end, bite. (And why isn't the heroine quicker to teach him who to treat as a "friend"?) The hero rents a suite of rooms in the Peabody Hotel. Now, that just seems sloppy. To be fair, that's the only time I noticed sloppy names; most of the time the characters and places are given unique names that are easily distinguishable from each other.
So, again, I want to make it very clear that this is a competently written book, and I'm sure there are readers who will love it. It just didn't engage me.