I was disappointed in this book and didn't finish it. The author wandered off into wordy descriptions of places and emotions such as "Streetlights dwindle to blackness, and my imagination stirs the darkness into the silhouettes of men leaning on the shadows of broken-down signs and long-out-of-order stores. My headlights reflect off the animals' eyes that now belong to the shadows of imagined killers". I have not read any of Jax Miller's fiction (as fiction is not what I read), and her writings in that genre are probably great, but when it comes to true crime, give me the straight-forward no frills approach of an Ann Rule, a Kathryn Casey or a Sergeant Joe Friday.

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