Bernhardt's latest Benincaid mystery begins with the violent beating of a gay man that apparently escalated to murder. Two young men are arrested for the crime; during their trial, one of the defendants is shot to death in the courtroom, and their attorney is wounded. The surviving defendant's mother asks Ben, the noted defense attorney, to take her son's case. Ben, in an uncharacteristic move, declines, refusing even to discuss the case with his partner, Christina McCall (who, in turn, annoys Ben by taking the young man's case herself). Why is Ben, who specializes in defending people with the odds stacked against them, turning this one down? And why does it seem like the defendant's mother and Ben know each other? This novel is as much about the case against the accused murderer as it is about Ben himself. By peeling back a few more layers of his character's psyche, Bernhardt revitalizes a series that had shown signs of going stale. --David Pitt Copyright 2004 Booklist

Crusading defense attorney Ben Kincaid has reasons beyond the obvious for refusing to take the case of a bigot who stabbed a gay man and then abandoned him to die. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Bernhardt sticks to his tried-and-true formula in his 13th novel to feature Tulsa defense attorney Ben Kincaid. An odious criminal defendant is foisted on Kincaid's practice: Johnny Christensen, a hate-filled frat boy accused of beating a gay man to death outside a singles bar in a Chicago suburb. Despite Kincaid's reluctance to take the case (at first, he flat-out refuses, for reasons he keeps hidden), he and partner Christina McCall put up the best criminal defense they can, allowing Bernhardt to explore issues of justice and contemporary mores while keeping the tension high. The well-paced plot weaves the hate crime of the title together with an Oklahoma kidnapping, Kincaid's romantic past, another grisly unsolved murder and a detective gone bad. In between, Bernhardt introduces readers to a straight male prostitute named Charlie the Chicken, a poetry-reciting homicide cop, a Christian social organization that opposes homosexuality above all else and a gay activist group that dabbles in courtroom executions and terrorism. Bernhardt places a premium on the plot twists, and his characters sometimes act in unlikely ways in service to the surprise. It should also be noted that the primary villain proves as eager to provide exposition of the scheme once nabbed as the typical Scooby Doo bad guy. That said, Bernhardt offers another good read, full of courtroom fireworks, double-crosses and even a bit of romance. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Nobody takes more can't-win cases than windmill-tilter Ben Kincaid. So why won't he touch this one? All Ben's friends are mystified. Not only is the case impossible, but there's no money in it--attributes that in the past have proved catnip to the quixotic Tulsa lawyer (Criminal Intent, 2002, etc.). The defendant is a 17-year-old horror only a mother could love. John Christensen is the son of engaging widow Ellen Christensen, once the girlfriend of . . . but that would be telling. Unlovely John stands accused of beating to death decent, likeable Tony Barovick for the crime of being gay. Insisting that he's innocent of homicide, Johnny cops to the beating ("Why does everyone care so much about a goddamned fag?"), acknowledges that he stabbed the victim 12 times and broke both his knees, but swears Tony was still alive when he left him bloody and beaten. Reluctantly, Christina McCall, Ben's partner, agrees to handle the defense alone. She's smart, inexperienced, and painfully aware of the empty adjoining chair. To gain Ben's help, however, she must first solve the mystery of his uncharacteristic behavior. Once she does, Ben joins the defense. They're splendid together, of course, but the prosecution's airtight case will take a miracle to defeat. So, bring on that staple of Bernhardt plotting, the deus ex machina. Lively courtroom scenes, as usual, but the rest is midgrade pulp. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.