Never has a book been more accurately named. Downing introduces a couple, Wes and Ivy, who are playing a dangerous love/hate game: they can’t stay away from each other but are mutually destructive, willfully so. When Wes receives a visit at work from a detective and finds out she’s from the sex-crimes unit, he knows there’s only one person who could have false-reported him: Ivy. Just for fun, she’s come back into his life after one of their multiple breakups. Also for kicks is her reporting of Wes as a stalker, and she’s languidly irritated when tenacious Detective Karen Colglazier wants to pursue an investigation. Ivy is done with the stalking ruse and needs the police to let it go, but for once she’s not calling the shots. Wes is losing control as well, not only because Ivy has come back into his life against all his friends’ wishes, but because, unknown to him, he has a coworker who may be an actual stalker. Bianca is a super-efficient assistant who arrives at work before everyone else and leaves after them, using her skeleton key and type-A façade to keep tabs on their personal and professional lives. The purpose? Keep reading for one of several delicious twists. This has “fantastic suspense movie” written all over it. While you’re waiting, try Downing’s For Your Own Good (2021).
Review
Brilliant writing. Clever plotting. And a work of speculative fiction, set in a near-future world, that is totally fascinating. Lou is the fifth victim of a serial killer, leaving behind a lovely toddler and bereft husband. Until she—along with the other four victims—is brought back to life through a government program, the “replication committee,” that clones victims. Celebrities and women advocates, who took to the streets with a red gash painted across their necks—mimicking how the victims were murdered—drew attention to their plight. But understandably, adjustment to her old/new life isn’t easy, although a support group with the other women helps. Then Lou learns some things about her murder that raise some serious questions, making her wonder whom, if anyone, she can trust. Much of the beauty of this book lies in the details; Lou works as a touch therapist in a franchise in a strip mall, dispensing hugs to the emotionally needy. These sorts of facts build on each other slowly, creating a fascinating world, when all of a sudden the book takes several sharp turns that will leave the reader gasping. Addictive, fast, and smart.
Overtown, as California’s Catalina Island residents call the mainland, Disneyland has been closed. On Catalina, the ferries have stopped and even the St. Patrick’s Day karaoke is off. COVID is on the way, if it isn’t there already. But Collette “Coco” Weber has bigger worries. She’s back on the island where her parents and brother were murdered years ago, a crime against the only Black family on Catalina. Coco herself escaped as she had sneaked out against her parents wishes. She’s hardly in line with others’ wishes now, either. Aunt Gwen—famous for stealing trinkets from rich tourists—has been living in the house Coco inherited when her parents died, and isn’t thrilled to share it. And Coco’s determination to continue owning the house clashes with someone’s plan: there’s a housing shortage on Catalina, and she’s violently pressured to sell. At the same time, island widows are being found dead, alone in remote spots that they wouldn’t likely have visited without coercion. As Catalina gets ever more dangerous, a peril nicely juxtaposed against Coco’s job as an island newspaper obituary writer, readers will fall deeper into the compelling mysteries of who killed the protagonist’s family years before and who’s behind today’s mayhem. Hall’s writing of a PTSD-stricken protagonist rings true, with her “warts and all” presentation offering veracity, resilience, and exasperation in equal measure. Those new to the author will want to go back to her previous, also fast-moving puzzles such as last year’s We Lie Here.
Southern Gothic meets crime fiction in this beautiful, haunting tale set in the 1970s. Parson, Texas is a place to leave, not stay. But twenty-nine-year-old Lou keeps finding reasons to hang on, despite that Hurricane Celia destroyed much of the town; the Vietnam War is still consuming many of Parson’s youth, including Lou’s brother; and any work is scarce. But Lou keeps thinking about Miss Kate, her surrogate mother of sorts, whose murder Lou can’t shrug off, even if the rest of the town can. The situation grows more complicated when Joanna, Miss Kate’s daughter and Lou’s first, great love, arrives on the scene. Joanna made her escape years ago—off to a fancy college, then grad school—only to be tugged back to Parson on account of Miss Kate’s house, a huge and creepy mansion that’s tumbling down. Joanna hires Lou to help her renovate the structure, which slowly leads to revelations that help Lou in discovering Miss Kate’s murderer. Insights into Parson’s queer community, and the decisions they make to survive, are fascinating. If Carson McCullers were to write a mystery, this would be it.
Depression-era San Francisco’s Claremont hotel is a wonderful playground for sisters Isabella and Iris Bainbridge Stafford, six and eight years old, respectively, who roam through it while their wealthy mother plays tennis. The luxurious hotel has a seven-story-long spiral slide that guests can use as a fire escape, one that Iris might think she’s entering to play when she fatally plunges down a laundry chute. Years later, tragedy visits the hotel again—many say it’s been cursed all along—when Presidential candidate Walter Wilkinson is found murdered in his room (murdered twice, in fact—the book explains all). Police officer Alejo Gutiérrez, passing as Al Sullivan, is the slightly jaded, but still caring, investigator who must sift through the jumble of rumors, racism against Asian hotel workers and city residents, and secretive behavior by rich characters who think the law doesn’t apply to them in his efforts to discover who killed the politician. This saga—the story has as many twisting corridors as the hotel–allows Chua to dig deep into the privileges and invisible barriers at work in any haves-and-have-nots meeting, with memorable results. Pair this with the information on the treatment of San Francisco’s Chinese citizens in David Quammen’s excellent Spillover for a sobering and enlightening view of that community’s history.
It’s the rare writer who can create an intense, well-paced thriller while taking on one of the greatest social issues of our time. And Kia Abdullah is one of those few writers. Salma Khatun, her husband Bil, and their teenage son, Zain, have just arrived at a new development in the London suburb of Blenheim. They’ve left behind the far more diverse and comfortable community of Seven Kings for fear that Zain may be getting in with the wrong crowd. Will it be a fresh start or a crash landing? Here’s the first clue: the next-door neighbor rips Zain’s Black Lives Matter poster out of the front garden, and when Salma puts it in the window, they paint over the window! Things escalate from there, but in a manner that is free of cliché and grows from the characters, who represent a range of opinions and emotions. In a nice aside, Zain and the boy next door, both budding programmers, manage to strike up a friendship that leads to the development of a software for use by those with hearing impairments. But the story doesn’t end there, and where it does lead us is shocking, tragic, and damning. One of the best books I’ve read this year; I can’t wait to discuss this with a book group
This unexpected and brilliant work examines the work of life: self love, self forgiveness, and the need to have others see us as we really are. Cambridge, MA psychologist Dr. Gregory Weber’s life is chugging along, grumpy teenager daughter notwithstanding, despite Gregory living every day with a horrible mistake he made when he was 17, something he’s told nobody about and that stops every relationship from being whole. All is turned upside down when a patient who claims he asked her to start therapy shows up, a woman he could swear he never encountered before. In no time, he’s deeply in love this intriguing woman and desperate to see every Wednesday at 1:00, even though from the beginning she takes his seat at each session and insists that he’s in the patient role. What happens over time, with old and new secrets increasingly working their way toward the surface, threatens to destroy Gregory’s life as he knows it. The ending here, which includes a startling twist, is both satisfying and teaches readers profound lessons about the nature of what we owe others and ourselves. A must read.
Both fans and newcomers to the series can sink deep into the pages of Doiron’s latest Mike Bowditch adventure, which sees the Maine game warden’s family vacation upended by what at first appears to be a boating accident. A man’s arm is found floating in the lake, clearly torn off by a boat propeller. Finding the related body opens a new scenario that Mike, local police, and the local forensic examiner puzzle to solve while also navigating the behavior of the rich. They live on the lake where the arm was found and aren’t keen on having their vacations interrupted. Law-enforcement politics are also to be maneuvered around, a tricky task when the lake constable wanted a game warden’s job but was considered too erratic. At the center of the maelstrom is the calm circle of Mike’s family, whose love and stability provide a stark contrast to the nail biting scenes facing the warden. Wilderness thrillers provide a great break from the real world—get this one on your list.
What’s the scariest place in crime fiction these days? Yes, that would be the suburbs. Alexis and Sam, her husband, buy a run-down house in a super-posh neighborhood in the DC suburbs. They love what the home could become, but for now it just feels like a bottomless money pit. Alexis is pregnant with the couple’s second child, and with little help from Sam—he’s trying for partnership at his law firm—motherhood is no picnic. To say the two grate on each other is an understatement. It doesn’t help that most people in the neighborhood assume that brown-skinned Alexis (she’s part Honduran) is one of the help. But the women in the neighborhood, chardonnay in hand, do try to make her feel welcome, while pumping her for gossip. When their neighbor Teddy is found dead by the nearby Potomac River—he was out for a run—everything takes on a sinister patina. In the ensuing weeks, Alexis grows close to Blair, Teddy’s widow, offering support while Blair fills her in on the lives of their neighbors. They’re a creepy crew if there ever was one, forever loitering in each other’s backyards, peeking into windows. Could Teddy’s death be linked to one of them? In the armful of suburban domestic thrillers publishing this summer, this debut—with its wild, super-spin of a plot, in which everything is turned upside down—is one not to miss.
I eagerly await the books in the Odessa Jones series, and the latest offering is better than ever. Odessa (Dessa) is a realtor/caterer in suburban New Jersey. Life is going well—housing sales are way up—until one of her realtor colleagues, Anna Lee, is killed in a hit and run while out jogging. Could it have been murder? Dessa can’t help but become involved. She goes deep into her colleague’s life, uncovering a surprising past and a present in which Anna was being stalked. But why would anyone threaten this young woman? In a brilliant move on the author’s part, Dessa ends up discovering her connection to Anna, one that extends back decades to Dessa’s first fiancé, when she was barely in her twenties. Part of the delight of this series, which is set in a diverse community, is the recurring characters, from Dessa’s family-like colleagues to restaurateur Lennox Royal—a possible love interest?—to Aunt Phoenix. Dessa’s second sight—she sometimes has the ability to see aura-like glimmers over people, among other paranormal skills—is a gift she has along with her aunts. It’s introduced deftly in the book, and even skeptics will find the protagonist’s gift wholly credible–at least while they’re wrapped up in the plot. This is billed as a cozy—there is a cat and plenty of tea—but Wesley pushes a bit beyond the genre’s traditions. Dive in with this volume, but if you have the time, start with volume one, A Glimmer of Death. You won’t be disappointed.