Category Archives: mystery

A Killer’s Guide to Good Works, by Shelley Costa*****

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akillersguidetogoodShelley Costa is a writer to remember. Her dazzlingly dark humor and her ability to spin a tight original story that builds irresistibly caught my eye with her first Val Cameron mystery, Practical Sins for Cold Climates. I began checking in with Henery Press regularly when I logged onto Net Galley, and my stalking paid off big time. Thanks go to Henery and also to Net Galley, from whom I received a DRC in exchange for an honest review.

In this second Val Cameron mystery, our protagonist is back in the big city where she belongs. She is looking forward to lunch with her best friend Adrian, who promises to show her something rare and wonderful, but when she reaches Adrian’s office, her friend has been murdered and the artifact is gone. Val’s loss is our gain, as Costa unfurls another outstanding mystery. This title is available to the public September 20, 2016.

Adrian had been looking forward to having her brother visit, and she had wanted Val to meet him. The brother, a monk on vacation from his usual life in an abbey, is the other primary character in this story. Val had already let Adrian know that she didn’t care for religion, for churches, for clergy…and she was absolutely not, positively not going to meet Adrian’s brother. No, no, and no.

That’s not how it works out.

Costa is a smart writer and she never wastes a word. The humor here is undoubtedly dark for the cozy mystery set, and so the reviews that are written by the cozy folk don’t reflect her writing ability. Those that want a house pet or caterer to solve a mystery will be disappointed every time they read Costa.  To my way of thinking, that’s more a matter of the wrong target audience than a reflection on Costa, who is razor sharp and wickedly hilarious.

Highly recommended.

A Time of Torment, by John Connolly*****

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ATimeofTormentI had never read anything by John Connolly before, but this eerie thriller has made a forever-fan of me. Thanks go to Net Galley and Atria books for the invitation to read and review.  Connolly cooks together a hair-raising thriller with a handful of horror, a smidge of fantasy and a dash of magical realism; the resulting brew is one that nobody else could possibly cook up. For those that write, reading this dark redemption tale is likely to produce both admiration and despair, because this novel is born of a talent that no creative writing workshop will ever be able to produce. You may write, and I may write, but nobody else will ever, ever be able to write like Connolly.

Our story is part of the Charlie Parker series, but I have not read any of the others and found I was able to hop into this story as a single read with no difficulty. Connolly provides just enough background to catch us up without dragging us through the book using promotional paragraphs some lesser authors might indulge in. I suspect not enough is repeated here to annoy his faithful readers.

Parker is a private detective that has been through a triple-death experience and come out the other end, but not unchanged. He’s hard enough to confront the ugliest nemesis, and it’s a good thing, because soon a trail of corpses will persuade him to leave his home in Maine for the dark place that is Plassey County, West Virginia.

The people of Plassey County have learned over the years—and centuries—to leave The Cut alone. Evil things are brewing there; it is there that the Dead King waits in an ancient building, and it is there that Oberon and Cassander struggle for dominance of this insular, cult-like community.  After all, “…the Cut looks after its own.”

This is a high voltage, hyperliterate read. Your middle-schoolers can’t read this, and it is so infused with violence that I’m not sure you’d want them to have it. But though I sometimes am put off from gory prose, I found that Connolly measured out these passages in small enough batches that my “ick” threshold, that little voice inside that tells me when a story isn’t fun anymore, wasn’t tripped. Spare but strong spots of irony and humor help lighten things up before they get dark, dark, dark again.

If I were to compare Connolly to any other writer, it would be James Lee Burke. The similarities that exist are a brilliant capacity to craft character, and the use of strongly resonant setting to reinforce character and move the story forward. The small but potent religious references are also similar. I highlighted the characters that were introduced throughout the course of this novel and found more than two dozen of them, and yet at the end of the book I still knew who each of them was without having to go back and reread. Connolly draws characters so real that by the time the book is done, the reader knows them as if they were family; yet thank goodness they aren’t.  This reviewer particularly enjoyed Parker’s assistants, Angel and Louis, as well as side characters Perry Lutter and Odell Watson.

Throughout the story, the pacing is swift and the plot absorbing. There is never a word that could be cut from the text and have the same result. If anything, the spare prose creates a sense of tension not only for that which is said, but also for that which is not.

This creepy tale was released this week, so you can have it to curl up with over the weekend if you’re quick about it. But before you commence, you’ll want to make sure that all the lights in your home are burning, and that all your doors and windows are locked.

Highly recommended.

Wishful Seeing, by Janet Kellough****

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wishfulseeingThaddeus Lewis, the traveling preacher sleuth, is back on the road again. He’s headed to speak at a gathering of Methodist Episcopalians when he finds himself involved, once more, in a murder case. This cozy mystery is my second in an endearing series by Janet Kellough. I snapped up the DRC when I saw that Dundurn had made it available on Net Galley, so I read it free in exchange for an honest review. This title will be available to the public this Saturday, July 30.

A body has been found in Rice Lake, and there are witnesses that saw Major Howell and his wife Ellen, the woman in the blue dress, near the scene of the crime “in the right place at more or less the right time”.  In the Canada that existed back then, that was enough to put Mrs. Howell in jail; her husband would be there too, but he is nowhere to be found.

Lewis finds himself drawn toward her case. Is it because he saw bruises on her arm that suggested her spouse may have handled her ungently? Is it because she is lovely, and he wishes she were with him instead? Or is it because Lewis just can’t scratch that legal-eagle itch enough times to be rid of the urge?  Likely it’s some of each.

The main draw card here is setting. Kellough has done a good deal of research in laying out both the area around Toronto during its frontier period. The result is a historical mystery with a travelogue feel to it. Kellough takes us to a time and place nobody can visit anymore except through literature, and she does a great job of it. She includes a lot of interesting details about the history of the Canadian legal system that drew my attention, because it was very different from what those of us raised in the US have come to expect. I found this aspect of it fascinating.

I also really enjoyed the part played by the little dog, Digger. I wouldn’t care to see him start solving crimes, but I hope we see him again in a future installment.

The only weak part is—perhaps unfortunately—at the beginning. There is so much of Thaddeus’s inner narrative, so much soul searching and comparison of beliefs among the various Protestant denominations that if I had not read Kellough’s work before, I would have wondered if I had inadvertently stumbled across Christian fiction. In fact, my notes show that at one part I wondered anyway.

Yet in another way, if there has to be a slow part, let it be at the beginning. And it’s clear that Kellough is not attempting to put together a thriller that grabs the reader by the throat, but rather is treating us to a relaxing story that one may take to the hammock and flop down with.

Nevertheless, by the time all the groundwork has been laid, it is a hard book to put down.

So this is your beach read. Take it to the shore, to the mountains, to the river, or even your own back yard, but don’t cheat yourself by passing it by. You can have it this weekend, and those that enjoy both historical fiction and mystery wrapped up at once are in for a treat.

Salvation Lake, by G.M. Ford*****

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salvationlakeFord is the rightful heir to the late great Donald Westlake, a writer of monstrously amusing mysteries full of quirky sidekicks and kick-ass, zesty dialogue. There’s nobody like him in Seattle or anywhere else. I gobbled up the DRC when it became available via Net Galley and publishers Thomas and Mercer,  so I read this free in exchange for an honest review. But I’ll tell you a secret: if I’d had to, I’d have paid for this one had it been necessary. And so should you. It’s for sale today, and you can get it digitally at a bargain rate.

But back to our story.  We open at a bar called the Eastlake Zoo. The band of misfits to which detective Leo Waterman is tied through bonds of family history and quixotic affection are rocking the house in “well-lubricated amiability”. In fact, there’s a story being told right as we begin, and if it doesn’t hook you, check your pulse, because you’re probably dead. Here:

“Red Lopez was a spitter. When Red told a story, it was best to get yourself alee of

something waterproof, lest you end up looking like you’d been run through the

Elephant Car Wash.

‘So we was comin’ down Yesler,’ Red gushed. “Me and George and Ralphie.’

Everyone had found cover, except the guy they called Frenchie, who was so tanked

he  probably  thought it was raining inside the Eastlake Zoo…”

 

Right?

As it happens, Waterman, who’s inherited his old man’s ill-gotten wealth, has been lying low and enjoying the good life, but now his late father’s hideously distinctive overcoat has been found on a corpse, and  Timothy Eagen of the Seattle Police Department want to talk to Leo. Now.  There’s bad blood between them:

“…he hated my big ass the way Ahab hated that whale…Eagen was a skinny little turd with a salt-and-pepper comb-over pasted across his pate like a sleeping hamster.”

Since SPD has been under the eye of the Feds lately, Eagen can’t give full rein to his attack-Chihuahua impulses. SPD needs to provide “the kind [of law enforcement] that doesn’t look like Ferguson, Missouri or Staten Island, New York.” So Waterman doesn’t get shaken down or tossed into a cell, but his curiosity is piqued, and since he has no paying job and time on his hands, he finds himself checking into a few things. One thing leads to another.

What relationship does the victim, known as the Preacher, have to Mount Zion Industries, whose pamphlet is found among his effects? Before we know it, Leo is off and running, checking out Salvation Lake, located at the end of Redemption Road. Events tumble one upon the next, and I found that instead of reading in my bed that evening, as is my usual bedtime custom, I was reading on it, bolt upright and clicking the kindle to go a little faster please.

Waterman may have come into money midway through life, but his perspective is a working class perspective. His take on the city’s thousands of homeless denizens and the relationship that cops have to those in need strike a sure clear note that must surely resonate with anyone that’s been paying any attention at all.

Meanwhile, Salvation Lake is written with warp speed pacing, sharp insight, authority, and the kind of wit that can only come from a writer that has tremendous heart.

Don’t miss it. Get it now.

All the Missing Girls, by Megan Miranda*****

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allthemissinggirlsI was invited to read by Net Galley and Simon and Schuster in exchange for an honest review, and I am so glad I did. It’s a juicy read that kept me transfixed through most of my Memorial Day weekend. You can order your copy now and have it when it comes out June 28.

The format is unique and very effective. We start in the present and step back to the day before, and before that, and so on, because just as is usually true when a person is missing, the most important information is what took place right at the beginning; that’s the part that has the key, and so we receive it last. It creates an electric sense of suspense I haven’t seen elsewhere in a long, long time.

We start with Nicolette Farrell driving away from her job, fiancé, and life in Philadelphia back to her hometown of Cooley Ridge, North Carolina. She couldn’t wait to get away from there when high school was over, and she isn’t eager to go back. And here, I felt her pain, urban snob that I am. Why would anyone want to return to a podunk place like that once they’d tasted life in a cosmopolitan city? But she has little choice; her father is in assisted living, his faculties fading, and Nic’s brother Daniel says they will have to sell the house in order to continue paying for Dad’s care. But Dad won’t agree to sell, and it’s up to Nic to reel him in.

But Nicolette, it turns out, had plenty of very personal reasons for needing to leave Cooley Ridge. Dark, mysterious questions about the disappearance of her best friend, Corinne, have never been answered, and once she is back, another girl disappears, this one the girlfriend of Nic’s old high school flame.  It doesn’t look good.

But Nic knows more than she’s telling; lots of people do.

“We were a town full of fear, searching for answers. But we were also a town full of liars.”

It’s been ten years since Corinne vanished, and now it’s happened again. Daniel is worried about Nic staying alone in that house, because the woods where the girls have last been seen is right behind it, and she’s there alone. He urges her to stay with him and his wife, but she doesn’t like to intrude; her relationship with Daniel hasn’t been strong since that last terrible night following graduation, and so she stays put.

This riveting psychological thriller grabbed me by the front of my shirt and didn’t let go till it was over.  Tantalizing bit by bit, Miranda takes us back to Nicolette’s earlier days, and one clue after another unspools until we sit stunned and amazed at the end. Miranda is a writer of formidable talent, and frankly, I can’t wait to see what else she has in store for us.

You can order your copy now so you can have it as soon as possible; go online, by car, by train, bus, foot, or skateboard, but reserve this book. It comes out Tuesday, and you won’t want to miss it!

The Girls in the Garden, by Lisa Jewell****

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thegirlsinthegardenLisa Jewell is an experienced author, but she is new to me. The Girls in the Garden, published in the UK last summer and soon to be in bookstores in the USA, is good strong fiction, and you should read it. I was fortunate and obtained an advance copy thanks to Net Galley and Atria Books for the purpose of a review. One night I stayed up late, unable to put it down until it was done.

Clare and Adele both have daughters, and both live in mixed-use residences that enclose a very large private garden. It’s been a great place to raise children for generations; in fact, some of the adults raising families here were also here as children. And there are so many children, introduced so quickly! I can usually juggle a hefty cast of characters just fine while also reading other books on the side, but in this case, the combination of all these characters and a surprising amount of culture shock—I am not as well informed with regard to British culture as I thought I was—left me staggering during the first ten percent of the book. My e-reader has notes that say, “Wait! Who?” and “Whose kid is this now?” and twice, “The fuck??” “What is a onesie, other than baby clothing?” Context wasn’t helping, so I did a web crawl. Okay, now I know. And isn’t tea usually mid-afternoon, with cookies or cake, and isn’t high tea formal and later? Do they have tea instead of lunch, instead of dinner, or are there four meals here?

And when I ran across spaghetti and peas for tea at 5 PM, again I wrote, “THE FUCK?”  Who eats peas in their spaghetti?

If a reader has to be confused, it’s better to have it be at the beginning and then catch up, than at the end, where one may walk away feeling stung and bewildered. Although I never did fully feel I had placed all of the characters, by the twenty percent mark I had a good feel for the primary ones and most of the others, and that was enough to make this an enjoyable read once I was oriented.

The story builds up to, and then centers around a party at the end of which adolescent Grace is found bloody and half-dressed, lying in the bushes. What has been done to her, and who has done it?

Ordinarily I would consider this a spoiler, but it’s provided on the book’s blurb and jacket, so readers are told right away this is our central problem. But there are layers that delve deeper, and these are what make this such an interesting read.

When is a parent over-protective, and when are they not careful enough? What makes someone a good parent? How much do we hold tight to keep our children safe, and when is it right to let things go; not only to trust our kids, but also to trust the world with our children?

There are no easy answers, but I found myself making small clucking noises when one parent or another makes what appears to me to be an error in judgment. Likely you’ll do the same, though perhaps not in the same places. The ambiguity makes it delicious.

The narrative point of view shifts from that of Pip, who is twelve, to that of Adele, one of the mothers. This is effective. Pip writes letters to her father, and they assume a portion of her narrative, adding a first person perspective, and at first I thought this device was too cutesy, but I changed my mind by the halfway point. It adds something that would be hard to inject as effectively any other way.

As to what has happened to Grace, there are so many possible villains, so many motivations and opportunities, but when the solution is finally reached, I feel as though the author has played us fairly. Sometimes a mystery writer will reach clear into left field for a solution. Perhaps they may discover a secret twin during the last ten percent of the story, or perhaps the villain is someone everyone had believed long dead. And that doesn’t happen here.

Ultimately I don’t think the story is really about Grace. The story is about trust within adult relationships. Misplaced trust can be dangerous; too much suspicion is toxic. And so the dance women do—and perhaps everyone does—is in trying to find the balance. It isn’t easy, especially when we are young parents, still learning the ropes ourselves.

Despite the tumble of characters at the beginning that I suspect will challenge many readers as it did me, I recommend that you read this book. It offers us something I haven’t seen anywhere lately.

The Girls in the Garden becomes available to readers in the USA Tuesday June 7, 2016.

The Last Good Girl, by Allison Leotta**

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thelastgoodgirl This title appeared to be a sure fire winner, a thriller that would also spotlight domestic violence and even more so, campus rape. I was pleased when Net Galley and Touchstone Publishers green-lighted my request for a DRC, which I received free of charge in exchange for this review. And without the social issues, which are a mixed bag but still partially useful, this would be a 1.5 star review, because as a mystery, as a thriller, as any kind of fiction, it doesn’t stand up.

A few months back I unfavorably reviewed a title that I said appeared to be a story that was invented purely to make use of some research; the author appeared to have done a lot of digging and was determined to stretch her story to include the information she’d dug up. But this one is even worse, because it really appears to be stretched around a large number of name brands. In fact, I can save you some time and money just by giving you the majority of the story now, though of course I can’t tell you how it ends, because that would be a spoiler. So, here are the key points, bulleted for easy digestion:

  • Pottery Barn
  • Urban Outfitters
  • Nordstrom
  • Calvin Klein
  • Domino’s Pizza
  • Wall Street Journal
  • Louis Vuitton
  • Tory Burch Shoes
  • Ford
  • Sephora
  • Zagat
  • Bank of America
  • iphone
  • Jim Beam
  • US News and World Report
  • Dodge Viper
  • Netflix
  • Jell-O
  • Krispy Kremes

Even without the endless product placement, many of the above-mentioned names being plugged numerous times, it’s a hard story to appreciate. In place of using plot and character development to tell a story, we are given two premises that are hard to embrace. The first is that our victim, Emily Shapiro, put all her deepest, most heartfelt feelings and experiences into a vlog that serves as a class assignment. All of it. Of course she did! And so the author has relieved herself of the main burden here and instead is dumping all of her Emily information into a single lengthy narrative that alternates with the third person story she has shaped around her merchandise promotions.

The initial premise is that a federal prosecutor, the one and only in fact, is somehow able to assist her old flame with a local case. “We could investigate it as a federal hate crime”, Anna tells Jack.

Sure we could.

The social message that there is too much campus rape that college administrators try to sweep aside to protect the reputation of their university’s brand, is somewhat undermined by other messages that struck me as reactionary. Anna sees condoms for sale in vending machines and “…she wasn’t sure about the wisdom of packaging sex as an option as casual as a snack.”

Maybe we should just go back to the age of the chastity belt. That will take care of that darn AIDS virus and the other STDs, too!

Finally, though it’s a relatively small part of the story, an unwanted pregnancy is treated as an automatic gonna-have-a-baby. I could (and have) seen stories in which the pregnant woman decides she doesn’t like the idea of abortion, and that’s fine. Roe v. Wade and the right to choose it confers isn’t about every pregnant woman terminating a pregnancy; it’s about a choice. What grates on my nerves is the suggestion that no such choice even exists.

If you can find a credible story here to hang your hat on, more power to you. The vocabulary is certainly accessible, if a trifle trite in a number of places. But for me, the joy of getting to read the story free has been displaced by the realization that I’ve been snookered into reading a host of obnoxious advertising because I have agreed to produce a review.

It’s for sale now. If you want it, you can have it.

 

The Violets of March, by Sarah Jio

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thevioletsofmarchThe Violets of March is a crossover title, part cozy mystery, and partly—maybe mostly—romance.  I purchased it for myself years ago, back when I was teaching, not advance-reading, and buying all my own reading material. It’s not a bad book, but given that I had paid full jacket price for the trade paperback version after reading some rave reviews, I felt let down. It’s a pleasant read, but it didn’t live up to its hype.

Nevertheless, once I had it in my collection, I was glad of it, because at the time, the other books I was reading were the sort that grab the reader by the hair and won’t let go till they’re done. I needed a calmer, more sedately paced novel to read at bedtime, and this was it. It held my attention, but it didn’t keep me awake when it was time to turn out the light.

Our protagonist is Emily Wilson, whose life, up till now, has been lovely. She is a successful author and married to a gorgeous man; what more can she want from life? But then one day he announces he is leaving her for someone else. Boom. Gone. She retreats to the home of her beloved aunt on Bainbridge Island, which is off the coast of Washington State, to lick her wounds. While there she finds herself ferreting out mysteries buried long ago. The plot becomes a story inside a story, and three different narratives are counter posed, two from the past, one from the present.

At the same time, Emily commences dating again. Here I am comfortable, because this isn’t erotica, it is an old fashioned love story, with the protagonist trying to choose between two men, one an old flame from high school, the other a local man she hasn’t known before.

The character development is not what I might hope for, but then this is a debut novel. It’s shallow, but it’s also soothing. It held my attention until I got a little bit sleepy, and then it didn’t anymore, which was exactly what I needed.

In addition, it is the sort of novel one could hand to a bookworm daughter of a fairly young age, if her reading level and interest were there, without worrying about content. Likewise it could grace the shelves of a middle school or high school classroom without a concern that parents would storm the school (as once occurred when I put The Color Purple on my honors shelf).

That said, I won’t pony up full cover price for this author again. But then, I rarely do that anymore anyway.

Those seeking a light romance with some cozy historical mystery elements to read at bedtime or on the beach could do a lot worse for themselves. It’s a matter of taste and priority.

The Black Glove, by Geoffrey Miller*****

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The Black GloveThe place is Hollywood, California; the time is 1980. Terry Traven is a private detective specializing in finding the runaway children of the wealthy. He is offered a job that appears to be more of the same; a local mogul’s son has disappeared, and Dad wants him found. But then the disappearance turns out to be a kidnapping, and the kidnapping turns out to be a murder, at which point all hell breaks loose. This story is fast-paced and though it’s set a generation or two ago, the issues with police brutality—otherwise known as “the black glove”—make it more socially relevant than your average piece of crime fiction. There are other components that will sit well with those with an eye for social justice, too. Thank you Brash Books Priority Reviewer’s Circle for the DRC, which I received in exchange for a fair and honest review. This book is available for sale right now.

The beginning of the book doesn’t appear to be auspicious. A guy walks into Traven’s office and presents him with a dossier that tells him all about himself, at least in the words of intelligence sources. The dossier is too lengthy–we see every word, pages and pages of italicized material– and is clearly a fast, easy way for the author to introduce us to the character. I was prepared to be let down.

Once we get past that sloppy introduction, however, the story is complex and fast paced enough to remind me of James Lee Burke’s detective series. Toss in some quirky names, like Senator Suspenders and a punk rock band called The Dead Cherries, and add a whole lot of action. And yet somehow we find ourselves discussing issues of race, gender, and gay rights without slowing the pace at all. I almost always take off at least a star for the use of the “n” word, but the way it is used here isn’t just some cheap stunt to show us that a bad guy is really rotten or ignorant; instead, the characters manage to embark on an abbreviated discussion of race and white privilege without ever becoming preachy or distracting from the main thread.  Some of it is very indirect, and it took me awhile to get a handle on it. In other places, it’s crystal clear, as when the visiting room at the jail is “gas chamber green…a cruelly subtle reminder to the inmate of his loss of freedom.”

The story’s subscript demonstrates how women and people of color are sometimes so overwhelmed by the racism and sexism that is inherent in US culture—and even more so when this novel was written than now—that we find ourselves internalizing that hatred. Likewise gay men, lesbians, and bisexuals; those from the Boomer generation will recall just how difficult this time period was for anyone that wasn’t straight.  And given that Miller wrote this during that time, I consider this story to be courageously written, a gutsy story by a writer unafraid to take a hard look at a controversial topic.

In fact, Brash Books hasn’t introduced a detective this brainy and complex, yet entertaining since they brought out Barbara Neely’s Blanche White series. What a tremendous find! I wish there was a whole series with this detective.

Meanwhile chances are excellent that you haven’t read this book yet, and if you lean left and enjoy a good detective novel, this is one you should scoop up right away.  It’s strong fiction with a progressive thread running through it. Don’t miss out.

Depraved Heart, by Patricia Cornwell*****

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depravedheartI’ve been reading Cornwell for over a decade. Her Scarpetta series is curiously addictive, a bit like curling up in my favorite chair with a furtive pint of gelato and maybe a ridiculous TV show or YouTube clip. But in thinking that way, I sell Cornwell short. She started out strong; floundered just for a short time; and now she is better than ever. And perhaps you are waiting for a disclaimer saying that I read it free, but in fact I did not. I’ve yet to see Cornwell’s work on Net Galley. The kindle version popped up as the deal-of-the-day for four bucks, and I grabbed it while I could.

It was worth it.

We open with Kay Scarpetta’s head in a really bad place. Those that follow her series will recall that the previous novel ended with her being shot in the leg with a harpoon by a villain we had believed to be dead. Scarpetta is fragile now, both physically—that leg will never be the same—and mentally. She jumps at shadows now. Unfortunately, not everything is in her head; as the story opens, Scarpetta’s niece, Lucy, is having her home ransacked by the FBI. At the same time, Scarpetta’s phone has been hacked—certainly a fear to which all of us can relate—and a creepy video clip of Lucy from long ago, including Lucy doing things that are illegal—is shown on Kay’s phone, beyond her control and without Lucy’s knowledge, while Scarpetta is working a crime scene. Once the clip is over it vanishes, leaving no record or proof that it occurred. Soon thereafter, a huge black helicopter follows Scarpetta and cop Pete Marino, a series regular, to the estate Lucy shares with her partner Janet and a small child in Janet’s custody.

Every mystery writer that is successful enough to have a long-running series is faced with credibility issues eventually. One character, whether gumshoe, cop, forensic pathologist, butcher, baker, or candlestick maker can only encounter a certain number of traumas in his or her lifespan before even the most enthusiastic readers will say, “Okay. Wait a minute. Are we getting captured and tossed into the trunk of a car again? Seriously?”

The best series writers are able to forestall this in two ways that I have seen. The first and most critical is that more of the story is about character development—the protagonist’s, and sometimes those close to the protagonist, and so we are invested in the outcome of the problem because we care so much about our hero. And if a writer is really strong, as Cornwell is, she can make us care about the lives and problems of regular side characters also.

The second way longstanding series writers get away from repeating the classic or even trite gumshoe stand by scenarios, such as I’m-being-framed-and-must-prove-my-innocence, or The-bad-guys-have-threatened-to-harm-someone-in-my-family-if-I-don’t-follow-their-demands-so-I’m-going-to-catch-them, is by being totally bad ass writers. By this I mean that either they go ahead and use the stupid devices I just mentioned but they do it so well we don’t care, maybe don’t even realize they’ve done it till the story is over; or they find another way to ramp up the tension without employing those tired devices. Cornwell scores big in this department with Depraved Heart.

Rather than wondering about the threat of evil, possibly death, that may come from outside her nearest and dearest family—including people like Marino who she considers family—part of the threat appears to be coming from within it. So we have this stark psychological thriller; for example, given that Scarpetta’s husband Benton works for the FBI, isn’t it odd that he didn’t say anything about the bust on Lucy’s place? Isn’t it strange that he won’t answer her texts?  But then given how jumpy and shaky Kay Scarpetta is, and the fact that she is defying doctor’s orders in order to do the things she is doing, we also wonder…hey Kay, are you all right?

Maybe what she actually needs is a pile of meds and a good long nap.

So we have the suspense of fearing external threats; fearing treachery from somewhere within the family; and added fear that Kay has finally just straight-up lost it. And then there’s the fear that Kay is right to feel threatened, but that others will disbelieve her, and we see their skepticism.

I have to tell you, this is a fast read, partly because of the amount of dialogue but also because the pacing is electric!

By now, you probably already know whether you are a Scarpetta fan or not. If you are on the fence, this should pull you over onto the side of avid readers. If you have never read a book in the Scarpetta series, don’t start with this one. Get a copy of the first in the series, or as close to the first as you can get, and work your way forward, because a lot of the reader’s sense of urgency is spun from the bond we have already formed with the protagonist and those close to her in previous installments. It’s not a good series to enter from the middle.

But for Scarpetta fans, this is a must-read!