Claire Wright wants to be an actress and that’s why she’s moved from the UK to NYC where she makes ends meet by working for a lawyer who is trying to catch husbands who cheat on their wives. Claire is the lure and she’s damn good at it; she can be whoever you want her to be.

Then she is tasked to entrap Patrick Fogler. His wife, Stella, seems overly concerned for Claire’s safety, telling Claire that Patrick “Is like no man you’ve ever met.”

Claire’s not worried though. When she “bumps” into Patrick at a bar she describes him as “Good looking, in a quiet, intellectual way.” He doesn’t seem to be the kind of guy who would cheat, but Claire acknowledges that the likable, charming guys “tend to be the ones who cheat most.”

Patrick, though, doesn’t take the bait. And that might have been the end of it, except that Stella turns up dead and Claire finds herself a suspect, which is how she comes to be in the crosshairs of Detective Frank Durban and Forensic Psychologist Kathryn Latham. They have a very special job for her. They think Patrick is responsible for Stella’s death, and perhaps a string of other murders, too, and they want Claire to infiltrate his life.

The set up for this book was terrific. I was wholly invested in Claire and the seedy world of depravity she suddenly finds herself in (although that doesn’t really go anywhere.) Somewhere in the middle of the book, though, things started to fall apart a little bit for me. And, then, I guess the ship rights itself towards the end. It’s not an altogether satisfying thriller because of all the red herrings and characters air dropped into the narrative to aid with the plot.

The novel seems to want the reader to “believe” and then spends all its effort in misdirecting us. I read a lot of thrillers, and this was okay.