KIRKUS REVIEW
Her cover blown, an undercover cop reinvents herself as a whole company of private investigators.
Kathleen Stone’s days on the NYPD left her with two things: an unscratchable itch for fellow cop Ellis Dekker and the skill to fade into the background in a way the 6-foot-2, ice-blond Dekker never could. Once the Costa gang makes her, though, Kathleen’s net worth as a cop plummets to near zero. So she swaps her badge for a dozen wigs. Now, in two seconds, she can become Katy, Kat, Kitty, Katya—whomever her client du jour needs to get the goods on a cheating spouse or light-fingered partner. In her favorite black dress and spiffy red bob, she becomes Kathy Seasons, charming hedge fund hawks at Hamilton’s while tailing Stephen Kramer, suspected of infidelity by his wife, Gloria. When Kramer gets popped in the men’s room, Kathy runs from the bar, ditches the wig and resourcefully turns into 15-year-old Keith to give the police the slip. As ash-blonde Kate, Kathleen stakes out the Kramers’ apartment in time to see young stud Leif Nichols pay the widow Kramer a two-hour condolence call. The next day, she’s back as flame-haired Kathy, alleged real estate broker drafted to find a condo for James Clifton, a Wall Street wolf who happened to be in Hamilton’s the day Kramer got offed. Between Clifton and Gloria Kramer, Kathleen has her hands full. But she still has time for a quick tryst with Marco, her alternative to the cagey Dekker; a trip out to Suffolk County with her doe-eyed secretary, Meeza; and a couple more corpses.
All those rapid-fire costume changes give a jumpy feel to Wright’s fast-paced, quirky debut.
