Palm Beach. Where the lawns are manicured, the bank accounts have too many zeros, and the morals are... flexible.
I picked this one up on a drive down to Houston. Eight hours of windshield time, just me and Ranger. I needed something that wouldn't require me to pull over and take notes. James Patterson is usually the literary equivalent of a standard issue MRE—it gets the job done, fills the void, but you aren't exactly writing home about the flavor. Kill Alex Cross had more punch—Patterson at his most efficient.
This isn't one novel, by the way. It's three novellas packed into a trench coat pretending to be a book. The Palm Beach Murders, Nooners, and Stingrays.
Short Story Roulette
Here's the thing about anthologies. It's a roll of the dice.
The title story focuses on this couple playing a "game of make-believe." Christy and Martin. Divorced, cynical, rich. They start pretending to be other people to spice things up. (I've seen bored executives do stupider things in real life, frankly). It starts harmless, then goes off the rails.
But the pacing? It felt... off.
Usually, Patterson moves at a sprint. This felt like a jog in humidity. I actually bumped the speed up to 1.5x just to get through the middle section. The second story, Nooners, involves an ad exec named Tim whose friends keep dying. It had a bit more grit, a bit more urgency.
But that's the risk with these collections. Just when you get invested in a tactical situation, the mission ends and you're dropped into a completely different AO with new characters. It's jarring. Nine Perfect Strangers had that same disorienting quality—different perspectives, shifting allegiances, never quite sure who to trust.
When The Voice Acting Goes AWOL
Let's talk about the audio. Because this is where I almost hit the eject button.
We've got three narrators: Helen Wick, Jason Culp, and Zoe Hunter. Having distinct voices for different stories usually makes sense. Keeps things organized.
But there's a specific crime committed here, and I'm not talking about the plot. One of the female narrators—during the first story—attempts a male voice that is just... painful.
I'm not trying to be mean. But it sounded like a bad caricature. You know when a civilian tries to sound like a drill sergeant but just sounds like they have a sore throat? That. It pulled me right out of the story. Ranger actually whined at the speakers at one point. If my German Shepherd thinks your accent is suspicious, we have a problem.
Jason Culp, on the other hand? Solid. He handled the grit in the later sections well. Sounded like he's seen some things. If the whole book had been leveled out with his tone, I might've enjoyed the ride more.
Mission Debrief
Look, I finished it. It passed the time on I-10.
Patterson knows the formula: Rich people, bad decisions, sudden violence. It's reliable. But Palm Beach Murders feels like the B-team files. The stories are decent enough to keep you awake, but the production choices—specifically that one character voice—undercut the tension.
Who's this for? If you just need background noise while you clean your garage or sit in traffic, it works. Keep your finger near the speed button. But if you're looking for a deep, tactical thriller with precise details? Move along. This isn't your mission.
