Somehow a novelist has to convince the reader that the events described in the tale could or did happen. This is extremely important in a mystery/suspense/spy/action book. The writer utterly failed to do that here.
Yuppie genius, Henry Pierce, on the brink of wealth and worldwide fame (dare we hope, a Nobel Prize?), receives some calls for a prostitute named Lilly on his new phone and rather than get his number changed, he races off to find Lilly and "save" her. Bah, humbug. His reason is that his own sister was a runaway, years ago, and was murdered because he failed to help her. This is supposed to be the psychological motive, I suspect. If one can accept that premise, the rest of the book is all right, I suppose, even if it is populated with several of the characters from "Pulp Fiction."
Paranoia, I might add, is too facile in creating suspense. It has been used and abused in too many other works of fiction. Ludlum was/is probably the master of the art. That's why I quit reading Ludlum a few years ago. I couldn't tell one book from another.
Pierce comes to suspect and distrust everyone, his business partner, his ex-live-in, his secretary, etc. It got a little tiresome, and when he finally got to the real villain, I no longer cared very much.
I'll try another Connelly book, but I have misgivings after this one.