Rather than a serial killer, Riley Wolfe is a gentleman thief in the tradition of A.J. Raffles or Michael Crichton’s Edward Pierce from “The Great Train Robbery.” Wolfe takes on only the most impossible and audacious of crimes, preferring to target the wealthiest of the wealthy and when possible dispensing a little social justice along the way. The book opens with a cinematic scene where Wolfe manages to steal a several-ton statue at its unveiling honoring a Big Pharma executive. Not only does Wolfe pull it off like it’s an episode of “Carmen Sandiego,” he punishes the executive for charging half a million dollars a dose for a new cancer drug by dropping him to a watery grave. You can almost hear “Damn It Feels Good to be a Gangsta” playing in the back of your head as Wolfe sails into the sunset to collect his client’s money.

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The action-packed intro of the book stays with a reader, and that’s good because most of the rest is Wolfe planning his next, even more outlandish crime. Here’s where readers (though not necessarily watchers) of his Dexter series will feel most at home. Wolfe is almost pathologically obsessive in his pursuits, and the only thing that keeps him from being exhausting in his quest for perfection is his penchant for flair and style. Somehow, the long chapters of his reconnaissance and preparation never feel boring simply because Lindsay crafts such a bizarre heist that it never gets mundane. In a way, it’s like reading the daily chore list of the Most Interesting Man in the World.

Lindsay also has a wonderful gift for characters, and they break up Wolfe’s fixation chapters nicely. There’s Monique, who aids Wolfe in plans by forging famous paintings for various purposes. She’s a fascinating figure when she’s not being reduced to eye candy and the carnal obsession of Wolfe. As a young gifted artist, she was betrayed by a boyfriend who used her skills as a mimic to frame her for an art robbery. After clearing her name, she became a dedicated criminal as a way to spite the world back.

And spite is a big part of the novel. The opening might have a reader thinking of Wolfe as a Robin Hood, but he’s most certainly not. As the book unfolds, Wolfe’s early life becomes more clear as well as his fanatical hatred of idle wealth and privilege. His crimes are often a vendetta against society, which makes him a little less likable but no less compelling.

In the end, “Just Watch Me” is a classic pulp adventure about a magnificent bastard who dares where others never would. It’s impossible not to get sucked into Wolfe’s schemes, wondering exactly how he’s going to thwart all the impenetrable defenses that have been described. It may not be the anti-tycoon novel that it seems to promise, but it’s damn fun to read.