I, Alex Cross, is the 15th book in this mystery/crime series by James Patterson. He’s got a number of series out there, most written by other people under his brand name. But the Alex Cross books are what put him on the map. And except for the 14th installment, Cross Country, the Cross books are consistently good–the best books under the Patterson brand.

In this book, Cross is notified that a niece has been murdered. A little investigating shows that she’d been working as a prostitute. Other young girls have been disappearing, too. You always need a serial killer for Alex Cross.

Early on, we learn that the White House secret service is interested in these deaths, having learned that there is a connection–yet unknown–to the White House. So you’ve got two tracks going–the White House track, which is interested in cover-up and protecting the White House; and the Cross investigation.

Things end up pointing to a mansion which is home to an elite prostitution ring. And here, I’ll stop telling you what happens.

This isn’t the best Cross book (that would still be his first, Along Came a Spider), but it’s in the upper tier. Patterson redeemed himself after the miserable Cross Country. But I knew he would. He tried something new with that book, it didn’t work, and so he returned to the tried and true formula which makes me look forward to every new Alex Cross book.

On the home front, there’s Nana, always Nana. She’s something like 90 years old, and she suffers a stroke or something (I tend to skim over the home dramatics, since they do nothing to further the plot, which is my primary interest). Patterson apparently views Nana as one of his best character creations, considering all the attention she gets in his books. But I’ve grown weary of her.

Here’s to hoping Nana kicks the bucket in Number 16.