The Other Daughter - bad romance thriller - downright silly

The Other Daughter is, I suppose, a romantic thriller, though I would not call it sexy or edge-of-seat gripping. Frankly, the whole thing reads like a Harlequin written by a crime magazine buff.

Melanie is found at the hospital at age 9 with minor injuries and no memory of her previous life. She just happens (wink) to show up in a Boston hospital where Harper Stokes is a prominent surgeon. Everyone is sure her parents will turn up, since she appears to be well cared for. But, that does not happen.

Ironically (not), the day little Melanie shows up at the hospital is the day that a mass murderer is fried in the electric chair in Texas. He murdered the Stokes girl 5 years earlier and is finally paying his dues. Some of the key players in the drama opt to witness the execution, but Harper, fortunately, stays at the hospital and finds out about the little girl without a family.

Patricia Stokes (the wife) visits the hospital to see this mystery child, and she falls in love with her. Melanie reminds her a bit of Megan, the murdered daughter. Patricia and Harper Stokes decide to offer Melanie a home and new future. Of course, she is not Megan (cough). But, close enough.

Right from the start, this is odd stuff. First, I can not imagine what kind of drugs someone gives to a kid to erase memory and not damage the child. This, by the way, is never explained, probably because it makes no sense. Also, it is weird for strange kids to show up at hospitals to be adopted by the wives of doctors on the spot. The red tape is glaringly missing here.

Everyone should be living happily ever after, but a behind-the-scenes player is sending notes and little gifts hinting that this whole facade is going to be blown wide open. Along with the Melanie mystery and the convenient little reminders popping up, Harper Stokes (the father) is being investigated for a medical fraud scam, Patricia Stokes (the mother) is drinking again, and Brian (the brother) is gay. The alcohol and sexual preference theme lines appear to be tossed in gratuitously, or perhaps the writer (Lisa Gardner) simply could not think of anywhere to go with those stories.

The other key player here is the FBI man, David Riggs. He is supposed to be investigating the white collar medical crime and Harper Stokes, but he becomes involved in the 20-year-old Melanie/Megan mystery.

David follows Melanie from a party out to the park. See, Melanie is a rich girl, and she spends her days with charities. This is her rare-book, fund-raiser. Yawn. David pretends to be the caterer. Pretty slick. Wonder what the other caterers thought when he showed up? That is not quite as bad as the partner going undercover in the hospital as a janitor and wearing his alligator loafers and blowing his cover. Oh yes, my friend. Check the shoes. That will give them away every time.

David tells Melanie that he was once an officer and that he has connections. All caterers have a background in law enforcement, right? Then, he calls in his FBI partner saying he is a buddy on the police force. But, David continues to interrogate Melanie under these circumstances. I can not imagine anyone spilling the beans to the caterer even if he was once a police officer. And, I am certain the FBI would not approve of David hauling Melanie home to his apartment in a personal witness protection program. They would probably also frown on her being privy to all the inside conversations. David even clicks on the speaker phone and tells his boss that Melanie is listening in. Now, is she not special?

Yikes. I almost forgot to mention the godfather, Jamie. He is a big, tough guy involved in questionable business deals. Dare I suggest this sounds like a cliche? Well, the book is full of those, so sigh and read on. Jamie was such a blessing when the birth daughter went missing. He went all over the south looking at 4-year-old dead bodies, so the family would not have to go through such torture. Really now, just how many unidentified, dead 4-year-olds would be littered around the south? I have not seen reports on that lately, but it does not sound like a full-time job. In any case, Jamie is an integral part of the family and pops back every few pages. In addition to being the godfather, he is Harpers best friend and Patricia x-lover. Small world? You bet.

Everyone adores Melanie, because she is so spunky and headstrong and so very pretty. She is, or course, a tiny little thing. Would you not love to read a novel where the female lead is mousy, plain, and big as a barn?

Unfortunately, Melanie is 29 years old, lives at home, does not have a real job, and has no friends. Would you not think this absolutely delightful chick would have a few buddies? Even one? Does this really sound like a heroine that you can relate to? Nope. Me neither.

Things do seem to work out for Melanie. All the men spend untold energy watching out for her. When she runs off to Texas, her father, brother, godfather, and the FBI man all, independently, manage to trace her down and within hours of each other. They all love her with the exception of one player (and I will not say which one), but David loves her most of all. He does not have any friends either and has arthritis (another dead end story line, unless you enjoy hearing about bags of frozen vegetables dripping down the back of his pants, not very much in the turn on department either). His love for Melanie brings him back to life. Hugging tiny little women who fight back tears makes big, strong men feel worthwhile, I suppose. Gag moment. Even the sex is rather pedestrian in this novel.

I suppose you could say that Gardner keeps you guessing. Really, her characters are doing all the guessing. They have mock conversations that sound ripped from a bad soap opera. A couple of pages later, you find out that they were right . . . or wrong. No rhyme or reason. If things start to sound predictable, just change the story. After a few dumb, thematic dead ends and u-turns, it does not really matter. The whole thing is so laughable that I had to put this book down every few pages and roll my eyes.

Gardener needs to learn more about the worlds of medicine, law enforcement, wealth, and love. Even from casual reading in these areas, I could spot huge craters. The stories rang so untrue that the book became a bad joke. The characters were no better. When some of them died off, I did not miss them at all. Frankly, she might consider a basic writing course and some journal writing practice. A brush up on dialogue is also in order.

This book did land on the bestsellers list (go figure). All I can say is that a lot of people ended up with a dreadful book. Sadly, many of them went over to Amazon and raved about this novel. A couple did belly up with some criticism. Not many though.

I will avoid other works by Lisa Gardner. This is one of the worst books I have read in a long time. I can not think of any reason to recommend it.