After perusing the other 3-star reviews I was surprised that the reviewers wanted more of the worst part of the series: the toxic relationship between Cassidy & Julia. I'm not saying the crime part of the story was pristine. No, no, no...no way. Sure, the sex scenes are frequent and steamy but what it reveals is that many of the readers have a twisted notion of how two people "in love" should engage with one another. Instead of dealing with their problems they have sex. Of course, given the opioid crisis and the popularity of reality TV, I guess it just makes sense. I'm giving this book 3-stars by the skin of its teeth and, for all that is wrong with it, it's still better than the waste of ink that was Book 2.
Now, on with the review you sick little monkeys!
One Little Secret: One Thousand Screwups.
Hey, at least the title related to the story. Does it matter that it was obvious from the very instant Cassidy met the little girl that she was Kennedy's daughter and not her sister? Well, it matters only in that the "great cop/good detective/national treasure" Cassidy Miller couldn't figure it out immediately too. A proper autopsy probably could have shown she had given birth given that the mode of death was in the same basic region...I mean that's on the ME, but the entire Minneapolis justice department, from the DA to the cops in this DCMH-Verse is incompetent. Indeed, the only reason Cassidy seems like a good cop (ever) is because the other cops are worse.
How bad is Cassidy as a cop/detective? While I noted in the Book 3 review that Cassidy shouldn't even have the title of detective because of her lack of experience and training, she really demonstrates why I am correct in this story. In one scene, Cassidy needs to have a crime scene tech explain to her the concept of rifling on bullets. Later, she learns the basics about cell phone tracking via cell towers. A casual viewer of a crime-based tv show or movie probably knows all of this, but not our great cop Cassidy.
It doesn't end there. After Landon confesses to having given Kennedy the gun and also for having let her use the gun to shoot cans a few years earlier (thus killing a random kid), Cassidy says, "We should let him go. The most we can charge him with is concealing evidence." She seems to think this because Landon was in love with Kennedy and lord knows, Cassidy justifies all sorts of terrible behavior because someone claims love. Whatever, the point is that Landon basically confessed to multiple firearm offenses. Worse, he admitted to being an accessory to, at least, manslaughter. It doesn't matter that Kennedy pulled the trigger. He was there. He brought the gun. He helped cover it up.
Okay, so Cassidy is a terrible cop. What about the most amazing lawyer ever, Julia who destroyed evidence then took the case then lost an easy custody case over her mother. In this book, she should have been charged with contempt if the DA had objected as much as she should have and the judge agreed. Her opening statement was rife with argument. Her questioning of the witness was total speculation. When the judge admonished her, she did it again and again. Then, when the DA (for no reason other than the author needing to make the other lawyer stupid to have Julia shine) tried to get the cell phone removed from evidence, Julia declares that was their only physical evidence. No. Their evidence is the gun that the defendant admitted to having possessed, whose father's fingerprints were on the bullets. Landon claimed a reason for why he gave it to Kennedy and Julia just presents that claim as fact and no one challenges it. I'm not saying the prosecution's case wasn't weak, but it wasn't baseless either.
The authorial lack of attention to detail, which has plagued the series emerges fast and furious with the prologue. Eliza wants to portray Cassidy as a Vikings fan (because of the visual of wearing the Jersey—yet she doesn’t use purple strap or a Viking horn? Travesty!)
The real problem is that Eliza specifically describes the game, naming players (such as Stephon Diggs) and the specific play with its nickname (The Minneapolis Miracle) a game I and millions of others watched on January 14, 2018.
The problem? The book is set in late September at the earliest, if not mid-October (as there is a Halloween party and a mention of Thanksgiving/Christmas coming). Cassidy even makes a point of saying she has never seen Julia in cold weather clothes. Why did the author bother to research specific real-life games in Vikings history then pretend that a playoff game played in January was during the regular season?
There's only one possible explanation. One of Cassidy's PTSD symptoms must be selective amnesia. So, when Julia makes the bet with her, she knows they are watching a tape that was recorded months earlier. It makes sense. Julia is not above cheating. In the first book she committed a crime (destroying evidence), so conning her lover is an easy call. In fact, she does it again in this book when she blatantly lies about her willingness to go to the Halloween party--expecting to bully Cassidy into not going either. It failed. She acknowledges her problem. Does nothing about it. Cassidy makes excuses for her. Fellow readers think this is normal or, ugh, sexy and the world sucks a little more.
This section is called Cassidy/Also Cassidy:
Cassidy: I’m a trained observer.
Also Cassidy: I didn’t notice the baby.
Cassidy: She invited me to go with her, but I said no.
Also Cassidy: I feel abandoned.
Cassidy: I didn’t vote because both parties sent us into war and didn’t get us out.
Also Cassidy: The gun laws are messed up and the treatment of women, LGBTQ, and veterans is terrible.
Cassidy: Ryan wears designer clothes and meticulously trims his beard. What a jerk!
Also Cassidy: Julia wears designer clothes and meticulously applies makeup. She's amazing.
Also Also Cassidy: The assistant DA wears off the rack clothes and is mousy looking. Loser!
MY GOD IT'S FULL OF DIALOGUE TAGS:
A significant detractor to my enjoyment of this series has been Lentzki's use of redundant dialogue tags.
"Yes, of course I'll go," I agreed.
"I'd rather not," I deflected.
"Maybe she was murdered," I opined.
A simple "said" or no tag at all could have worked. Yet, sometimes, the tag doesn't even connect to the words.
Cassidy: "I don't want you to go," I refused.
Refused? Refused what exactly? This doesn't enhance the understanding of her delivery of the line at all. Some action showing her emotional state would be better. Even a "beseeched" or "whined" tag.
I noted a few, but there are multiple examples on EVERY. DAMN. PAGE.