The prologue of The 8th Confession doesn’t ease you in. It forcefully grabs you by the front of the shirt with a school bus explosion by page two. Not just any school bus, mind you. This one had been converted into a traveling meth lab. Honestly, what could go wrong? I mean, one pothole and—BOOM—goodbye PTA meeting. I was in.
At first, I thought I was juggling three separate plots: Exploding school buses, a murdered homeless preacher called Bagman Jesus, and a string of suspicious socialite deaths. But Patterson surprised me when two of those threads twisted together like a perfect little murder braid.
The murder method itself was disturbingly creative. I didn’t see that one coming. I also didn’t fully buy into the killer’s motive. Being bullied in school is awful, yes. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. But maybe just start a blog like the rest of us? Honestly, if I wanted revenge, I’d have hit their bank accounts, not their jugulars. Still, it worked in a chilling, “people are terrifying” kind of way.
This one had romance. Ugh. I’m not here for sex scenes unless they’re critical to the plot, and the one in this book was completely unnecessary. Could’ve been cut without changing a single thing. And while Lindsay tiptoed dangerously close to cheating on Joe, thank goodness she didn’t. That would’ve lost me and I wouldn't have picked up any more books in the series.
The Women’s Murder Club was less murder-solving girl gang and more “you do your thing, I’ll do mine” this time, but the story still held up. Cindy had a questionable moment with Rich (ugh), but redeemed herself eventually. I had one major for-crying-out-loud moment when Lindsay went full drama queen over that situation, but by the end, her brain cells had checked back in.
I devoured the first 200 pages in one sitting and only stopped because my eyes closed themselves. Hate it when that happens. I finished it while making my coffee the next morning. It's that kind of read.
Also, just saying...this book added “snakes in boxes” to my growing list of nightmare fuel. Yet another reason to avoid snakes. And maybe boxes. And anyone carrying boxes.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have The 9th Judgment to start.
