Serial-kidnapper psychodrama set in the privileged precincts of the very wealthy, by the ever assured Farris (Dragonfly, 1995, etc.), a master of pitch-perfect dialogue be it backcountry or Manhattan art world. Some suspense novelists, like Farris and Dean Koontz, have such density of knowledge about the physical world that entertaining trash becomes brilliantly real. Photographic sentences dwell on extreme sensations and thoughts, as well as on the obsessive musings of those who know too much about ``the dynamics of hell'' and about the moment when horror overwhelms one and ``images of sublime beauty [become] thorns in the eye, great music discordant, and innocent laughter [raises] blisters on the heart.'' Here, six women, all with singular physical flaws, have disappeared without a trace. All of them knew charismatic, wealthy architect Dix Trevellian, and Coleman Dane of the Justice Department thinks Trevellian has murdered all six, including his own beautiful sister, Felicia Dane, who was partly crippled. Dix, though, has passed a polygraph test. Is the killer then Dix's schizo brother Scott, who carries on imaginary conversations with all of the lost victims? Or perhaps psycho Dempsey Wingo, made murderous with jealousy by his ex-wife, Dix's sister Esther? And what about Esther, the billionaire sister from hell and her semi-incestuous three-way bed frolics with Dix? Dane hires West Point grad, ex-CID, and Military Police officer Sharon Norbeth (daughter of a Medal of Honor winner), now retired on a pension but still a first-class sleuth, to investigate, hoping that her prosthetic hand will lure the kidnapper. Sharon is also a talented if quirky painter, and Dane has a top Manhattan art dealer set up a show for her that will attract the vanisher. Will Sharon wind up sandwiched between Esther and Dix, before disappearing? Like the summer's action flicks: marvelous visuals, little substance.