Terrorists, yes—ruthless, violent, frightening—but whose terrorists?
A devastating explosion destroys Harper’s, a popular restaurant in East End Harbor, the small town bordering the niftier part of New York’s storied Hamptons. Gone in a nanosecond is the lunchtime crowd, including Sheriff Jimmy Leggett. It’s this horrific fact that propels Jay Westwood into a promotion he certainly never sought and is tempted to refuse. But only briefly. Jay, as readers familiar with the series (Aphrodite, 2004, etc.) well know, is a man born to do hard jobs. Almost at once Sheriff Westwood begins to worry about the possible connection between the crash of a small plane at East End Airport and the suicide bombing at Harper’s. A tenuous connection, true enough—the bombing says terrorism; the crash says accident—still, something about it niggles. As Westwood tracks alone along this avenue, he wonders more than once if he really knows what he’s doing. (“He decided, as usual, that he didn’t, but he was damn sure going to go ahead and do it anyway.”) When suicide bombers level two more restaurants, attention quite naturally focuses overseas. By now, however, Jay has turned up a most mysterious name: Midas, linked to a most formidable coterie of movers and shakers. What is Midas? No one seems prepared to answer this knotty and dangerous question, since those asking it tend to meet untimely ends. Jay sees and understands this lethal cause and effect, but being the kind of cat he is, curiosity is endemic. Suddenly the matter is taken out of his hands, and Jay discovers what it means to be on the wrong end of something called the Triumph of Freedom Act.
Overly convoluted, as seems inevitable in an Andrews thriller, but readers who hang in will be vastly entertained. And maybe a bit unnerved.