Published by Thomas & Mercer on May 12, 2026
When Maxine (“Max”) Ringo thinks to herself This can’t be happening, I thought, You’re right about that. Robert Bailey tells such an implausible story that I never persuaded myself to suspend disbelief for the sake of enjoying it.
The Mediator is set in Huntsville. Max is a lawyer whose law license was suspended. She’s beginning a new career as a mediator. In scenes that become tedious because of their repetition, Max beats herself up for ruining her life. She became addicted to oxy after she was in a traffic accident, then started stealing to fund her habit after her doctor cut her off, then started taking meth before her law firm fired her. After a stint in rehab, she’s earning money by mediating cases until her license is reinstated.
A judge who used to be her good friend assigns Max to mediate a divorce. The divorcing spouses are wealthy and their families are financially intertwined. The husband, Perry Strassburg, is CEO and 30% owner of Richardson Concepts. The company was founded by his father-in-law, Dagger Richardson, who also owns 30%. Perry’s wife, Stephanie Richardson, owns the remaining 40%.
Perry wants to acquire full ownership of the company for nefarious reasons. The company’s value grew substantially after Perry became CEO. Perry is willing to buy out Dagger’s interest but Dagger isn’t interested in selling. Stephanie has made clear that she won’t make a divorce settlement that her father opposes.
To obtain a favorable settlement, Perry has orchestrated Max’s appointment as mediator. He’s also kidnapped her son. He shows Max a live video of her son as he’s tied up in a barn. Max’s son is a meth addict and isn’t doing well in his withdrawal. For reasons that make no sense, Perry believes Max can force Stephanie and her father to relinquish their interest in the company. If she doesn’t, he will kill Max’s son. And he needs to gain control of the company within the next two days because a bank is threatening to call in his loans.
Perry’s scheme is nonsensical. A mediator isn’t a judge. A mediator can’t force anything to happen. And Dagger isn’t a party to the divorce so his share of the company isn’t a marital asset that the divorce court can touch. Perry’s belief that his scheme has a prayer of success is ridiculous.
That Max goes along with Perry’s scheme is just as unbelievable. She has ample time to plant a microphone, or even record Perry on her cellphone saying things like “It was nothing to me to kidnap your son, and I won’t hesitate to end his miserable life.” Perry makes multiple threats across two days. Max only needs to record one of them to get herself out of her predicament and save her son’s life. Her failure to take such an obvious step cemented my inability to buy into the plot.
Max instead turns to an old friend who introduces her to a tough guy named Satch Tonidandel. In Thrillerworld, tough guys are the answer to every problem. It takes some time for Satch to spring into action, but experienced thriller readers know that a tough guy with a military background isn’t introduced into the plot for no reason. In a trite “a mother will do anything for her son” moment, Max also turns into an action hero as the story nears its climax. Modern thrillers rarely tell a credible story, but this one is more over the top than most.
Bailey gives his characters too little personality. Max spends most of her time beating herself up for her addiction. Perry and Dagger are stereotypes of greedy businessmen. Satch is a standard aging tough guy. Max’s son is trying to decide whether he’s gay, an attempt at characterization that disappears almost immediately after it’s introduced into the plot.
Stephanie has a spreading form of cancer that is now incurable. She’s trying to decide whether to stop treatment. Scenes of women hugging and crying together ensue. Some readers will be more moved by those heavy-handed scenes than I was. Like Max’s recovery from addiction, the cancer seems like a substitute for deeper characterization, an easy way to make the reader sympathize with the characters.
Bailey repeatedly relies on clichéd phrases: “She looked like death warmed over.” “Time to unleash hell.” Some chapters end with mini-cliffhangers, sentences like: “She peeked out her door and could barely believe her eyes.” Writers always try to manipulate readers, but they only succeed by being subtle. Such an obvious attempt to force readers to turn the page might cause some readers to think “this is a real page turner,” but many other readers are likely to resent such obvious manipulation.
The novel does have a few surprising twists at the end, so it isn’t a total loss for mystery fans. It also moves quickly, so it isn’t a tedious read. That’s such faint praise that I can’t give The Mediator a full recommendation.
RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS