Emily Shapiro was last seen being followed out of a bar by Dylan Highsmith, the man who raped her months before. U.S. Attorney Anna Curtis is talked into investigating the case by her former fiancé, Jack Bailey, and she must race against the clock to find the missing girl before it’s too late.

Allison Leotta’s fifth Anna Curtis novel, The Last Good Girl, is an enjoyable page-turner. (Yes, it feels a bit perverse to describe a book that focuses on sexual assault as “enjoyable,” but it is.) Leotta’s background as a federal sex-crimes prosecutor means that she gets the procedural details right, which is a blessing for those readers who might be distracted by implausible portrayals of the legal system.

The plot has a ripped-from-the-headlines feel: campus sexual assault, frat parties with date-rape drugs, a he-said/she-said situation, and university authorities who are more concerned with the institution’s reputation than with protecting vulnerable students. There’s a twist, though: Emily Shapiro is the university president’s daughter.

Leotta touches on the issue of sexual assault on campus and provides a window into the frustrations experienced by Emily as a rape survivor trying to seek justice.

Anna’s investigation is interspersed with excerpts from Emily’s video diary that provide an in-depth look at the events leading up to her disappearance. We follow her from the initial date rape to the lack of support from family and friends and the harrowing disciplinary hearing, about which Emily tells us, “There’s awful, and then there’s the special brand of awful reserved for college sex-assault disciplinary hearings.”

Readers unfamiliar with the series may miss some subtle references, but The Last Good Girl is accurately billed as a standalone book. Leotta neatly conveys the essential backstory without diverting the flow of the present story. For instance, when Jack first asks Anna for help with the investigation, “She paused. They’d broken up for complicated reasons last year. Three weeks ago, Jack had called, resolved every complication, and asked her to come back to him. She hadn’t given him an answer yet. She still didn’t know it herself.”

Leotta avoids the trend among some contemporary suspense novelists to employ ever-escalating violence to hold the reader’s interest. She takes on a highly disturbing subject but delves into it without fixating on salacious details. Instead, she relies on crisp writing and a slowly unfolding mystery to keep the reader turning pages.

As well-crafted as The Last Good Girl is, however, it ultimately feels a bit pat. A number of characters present more like caricatures and, for this reader, the father’s lack of concern for his daughter’s wellbeing did not ring true. Unfortunately, we know that in the real world, university authorities are often more concerned with reputation than the wellbeing of students. But for a parent to have a stronger emotional response to the threat to the institution than to the reported assault on his child is stretching credibility. Emily herself shows vastly more empathy when she says, “My dad doesn’t mean to be a dick. It’s like — he just can’t help himself.”

As a former prosecutor, Leotta is able to present the challenges Emily faces in her search for justice, but she is less interested in presenting the nuances of the associated issues. But perhaps it is too much to expect for a suspense novel to plumb the subtle depths of a difficult issue such as sexual assault. Dylan (no particular spoilers here) proves to be an utterly reprehensible villain. We don’t need to feel empathy for the rapist, and perhaps in the end it is more gratifying to be able to root against him unreservedly.

Whatever its shortcomings, The Last Good Girl is a smart, fun read that is a cut above many in its genre.

Beth Kingsley is a member of the boards of the National Capital Area Skeptics and Capital Fringe. In her day job, she is a lawyer for nonprofit organizations.

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