A series of child murders echo a case involving a killer named Anique Pomerleau, who Brennan and Ryan had tried to catch in the past but who had escaped. But when Pomerleau is found dead in a barrel of maple syrup, all the clues must be rethought from the beginning, leading to a surprising climax. The story weaves together suspense and meticulous medical and forensic detail. I loved this novel, it’s witty, well constructed, full of clues and details to follow. I couldn’t put it down.
“I was not my mother. I never would be.
Physicians, psychiatrists, psychologists. So many diagnoses. Bipolar. Schizoaffective. Schizobipolar. Disorder of the moment. Choose your favorite.
Lithium. Carbamazepine. Lamotrigine. Diazepam. Lorazepam.
No medication ever worked for long. No treatment ever stuck. For weeks my mother would be the warm, vibrant person I loved, a woman who brought sunshine into every room she entered. Happy, funny, clever. Then the demons would claim her again.
Bottom line: my mother is as loony as a bag of squirrels.”