Retired FBI profiler Terry McCaleb (Eastwood) has just had a heart transplant. But, while undergoing checkups, he's brought back to track a serial killer who apparently murdered the woman who became his donor. Clint can still do the loner detective to a T, the question is, should he? The evidence her points to "probably not." It's not that he's not good at it, it's that there's really nothing more he can do WITH it. The killer is easy to spot from a mile away, and thankfully McCaleb does, which leaves the how and when of catching him (in the gender-nonspecific sense) as the only suspense. Well done, but ultimately forgettable. Based on the novel by Michael Connelly.