A serial killer calling herself Mary Smith has it in for Hollywood stars-and emails blistering descriptions of their death to the editor of the Los Angeles Times. Looks like a case for Alex Cross. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Last seen in London Bridges (2004) chasing a terrorist, Washington, D.C., PD detective turned FBI agent Alex Cross is enjoying a much-needed vacation at Disneyland with his family when he's called in by the FBI to consult with the LAPD on a high-profile murder case. A-list actress Antonia Schifman has been slain, her face so badly cut up that she's almost unrecognizable. The murder isn't random; an L.A. Times gossip columnist has received a series of e-mails from a woman named Mary Smith, taking responsibility for the killing of Antonia, her chauffeur, and a well-known female movie producer. Cross studies the e-mails, which make reference to Mary's ordinary appearance and her fixation on the perfect families, particularly the children, of both women. When another prominent woman is slain, Cross is sucked into the case full time, jeopardizing the outcome of the custody battle he's involved in over his youngest son. As Cross studies the e-mails and patterns of the killer, he realizes he can't be certain of anything, even the gender of Mary Smith. The thrills in Patterson's latest lead to a truly unexpected, electrifying climax. --Kristine Huntley Copyright 2005 Booklist

Superstar psychologist Alex Cross's quality time with his kids is interrupted by...another serial killer! The clever, remorseless miscreant who calls himself the Storyteller has already practiced his lethal skills on three hapless New Yorkers before he begins his career in earnest with a series of killings in L.A. Choosing as his victims women who've neglected their children for successful careers in the entertainment industry, he describes the murders in overheated e-mails he addresses to his victims but sends to hapless entertainment columnist Arnold Griner, signing them "Mary Smith." All right, then, is Mary a woman or a man? The LAPD is baffled, the FBI too, so they yank Alex out of Disneyland, where he's gone to recuperate from his last megadose of murder (The Big Bad Wolf, 2003) and bond with his family while doing his best to duck the attention of a true-crime writer who behaves more like a stalker. Learning that Alex is back on the job despite all his promises, his distraught ex, Christine Johnson, grabs their baby, Little Alex, and stashes him in Seattle, insisting that Big Alex's devotion to his dangerous job is constantly putting an intolerable strain on his loved ones, a charge that has the merit of being demonstrably true. The irony of it all is that Alex's reluctant consultation doesn't slow the Storyteller down a bit. He (or she), undeterred by the superdad angst that substitutes for detection here, just keeps up the torrid homicide rate until fulfilling her (or his) murderous plan. Luckily, the resulting break from falling bodies lasts just long enough for the cops to commit one last, fatal blunder before Alex gets one of the unmotivated brainwaves that makes him "America's Sherlock Holmes." Certainly not the worst of Patterson's clueless mysteries, but still another likely candidate to be filmed as "a big, dopey thriller based on a dopey bestseller." Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.