Living a remote, punishing existence—he even asks to have the power to his cabin switched off in the Minnesota winter—former homicide detective Max Rupert has run away from his job more than retired from it. All readers know for most of the book is that he shoved a man through a hole in a frozen lake and is living with the aftermath of that choice. But why he did it, and whether he can allow himself to rejoin society, is a mystery. On a visit to town he runs into Lyle Voight, the former sheriff who’s been voted out of the job in favor of a corrupt newbie, and the man’s daughter, Sandy, and grandson, Pip. Seeing a family gives Max an unfamiliar and slightly disturbing feeling—happiness—and he’s helplessly drawn to jump in when, shortly after, Sandy and Pip vanish suddenly from their home. Puzzlingly, all signs point toward a planned absence. Next, we meet the sinister—and I mean sinister—duo behind the disappearance, and soon the chase is on, helped by Max’s former partner, Niki Vang. This thriller does a remarkable job of contrasting evil and love throughout, in the characters’ actions and dialog as well as in Max’s inner struggle between the positive force that keeps him going and the weight of self-loathing that holds him back. The three-dimensional portrayal of Niki, a wise-cracking and kind Vietnamese American detective and love interest, is a bonus. This is one to get lost in.
Suspense
Ever feel like you’ve lost your reading mojo? Spending too much time consuming mediocre series on Netflix? Then this fun, female-driven narrative featuring a grifter/psych student, a terrifying serial killer, a cool and elegant femme fatale, and a handful of Las Vegas ladies is sure to get you back into the reading groove. A serial killer is stalking Amber’s college campus, and despite all her street smarts he manages to kidnap her, dragging her off to his lair. Just when things start to get serious, Amber is liberated by this cool and aloof woman who promptly disappears. But when the cops, and then the FBI, show up, Amber gets jittery—she and law enforcement don’t mix—so she heads out of town, randomly picking Vegas. It would be foolhardy to try to summarize this story; it’s got more twists and turns than the Tour de France. Let’s just say that Amber’s voice—witty with a side of snark—is just everything, the dialogue is pumping, and the characters are, strangely enough, completely credible. And how refreshing is it to read a thriller without any male leads? Turns out you don’t miss them at all. An absolute delight from beginning to end.
Locked-room mysteries and thrillers are booming, but this one has a twist. In the 1990s, young Grace DeRoche’s family lives in a Canadian branch of the FLDS, the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Talk about a locked room. Children in the cult headed by Warren Jeffs, who in real life has only left the FBI’s Most-Wanted list because he’s serving a life sentence for child sexual assault, live with their fathers and the men’s multiple wives in Brigham, a secretive, abusive compound. They spend their days praying, in fear of outside-world apostates, are illiterate, and are subject to harsh “corrections.” Girls are married young to much older men. After the police come and “Brigham’s Ten”—Grace and nine other children—escape, the rest of the compound dies by mass suicide. In the years that follow, Grace remains in the locked room of her mind: she has dissociative identity disorder, with multiple personas taking over when she’s stressed. Stress comes in the deaths of members of the Ten, and Detective Beau Brunelli must protect Grace, a challenge when the woman doesn’t believe she needs protection and is too frightened and confused to accept help. Freedman could have made this sensationalist, but it’s a thought-provoking read, providing a look at life after a cult and portraying the survivors as real people, warts and all. The shocking ending here is a reward of its own, and getting there is a journey through incredible details of life inside Warren Jeffs’ world and inside the mind of a troubled woman. While you wait, try the Netflix documentary Keep Sweet: Pray and Obey, which covers the FLDS and is also absorbing.
In Paris’s latest thriller, a London woman’s trip from rags to riches and back again is a tense fight against a wealthy man who can’t be denied his out-of-control wishes. The tale alternates between two timelines. In the present, readers find Amelie Lamont kidnapped and trapped one floor above her husband, Ned Hawthorpe, who’s also kidnapped and whose rich father doesn’t seem too interested in getting him back. While they wait, Ned makes clear that he’s his stone-cold father’s son, telling the kidnappers that they can go ahead and kill Amelie as it will make his father cough up the money. The past timeline, which takes place several years earlier in the 1990s, shows how Amelie got into this nightmare, starting when her widowed father died and left her homeless. She finds her way to a job at a magazine, with Ned the boss. Desperate for money for college, she makes a startling deal with the rich man, one she immediately regrets. Both Amelie’s time in her dark prison and the lead up to it are psychologically reminiscent of Emma Donoghue’s Room, portraying the intense inner machinations of a woman pushed to the brink. But this web of fear and lies is much more complex, satisfyingly so, than Room, involving many more characters, intricate plotting, and layers of subterfuge. Paris’s fans won’t be disappointed and readers new to the author will be hooked.
Rhys Lloyd, a former opera singer, has recently built a series of luxury homes overlooking Mirror Lake, on the boundary between Wales and England. Neither the process nor the end results endear him to the locals, to say the least. To attempt to mend fences, and bring the townies and the posh lake crowd together, he throws a massive New Year’s Eve party, only to disappear in the middle of it. When Rhys’s body is found floating in the lake on New Year’s morning, no one seems all that surprised. Nor sad. Not the town folk, not his wife, and certainly not DC Ffion Morgan, who is assigned to the case. Ffion is a local, back home after a failed marriage, and her search for the killer brings her close to people she’s known her whole life, and close to secrets of her own. Against her wishes, she’s paired with DC Leo Brady from the English side of the lake, and they provide every sort of tension imaginable, from national to sexual, giving the book a good bit of levity. Like the TV series “Broadchurch” and the novels of Ann Cleeves, this wonderful novel takes the reader—through twists and turns, and red herrings aplenty—deep within a community. Crime fiction is a whole lot better now that DC Ffion Morgan has arrived.
Major events in Swedish history that caused the nation to see itself anew parallel the events in this book, with the town of Halmstad a microcosm of the larger turmoil. As the book opens, a woman is found in the back of a car, raped and murdered. The crime will always be linked in the minds of locals with the (real-life) assassination of Sweden’s prime minister, Olof Palme, which happened on the same night, February 28, 1986. Halmstad is in a staid area, where everyone knows everyone, the kids play soccer with a beloved coach, and what farms are left are the quiet backbone of life. The death of Palme and of Stina Franzén, the murdered young woman, cause a kind of shocked introspection whose weight pervades Carlsson’s writing. Horror surfaces once again when another woman disappears the day before the relatively nearby Chernobyl nuclear reactor explodes on April 26, 1986. Chernobyl is “on the other side of freedom,” but even given that the crimes are in much-more-open Sweden, investigator Sven Jörgensson can’t catch the man who taunts him with phone calls and promises there will be more. As years go by, Sven’s son becomes involved in the impossible puzzle, as does a writer who grew up locally and who has returned to write about the crimes (and who narrates this tale). Following events over several decades brings us to care for the characters as much as the outcome of this case, one that’s as unpredictable as it is tragic. The author’s U.S. debut (he’s the youngest winner of the Best Swedish Crime Novel of the Year, for The Invisible Man), this is an absorbing and thought-provoking puzzle.
A tight and tense police investigation that brilliantly integrates Māori culture and history. When a gruesome murder in contemporary Auckland, with the victim found hanging in a secret room within an abandoned building, leads to another murder, Māori detective Hana Westerman realizes she may be on the trail of New Zealand’s first serial killer. But what connects the victims? A daguerreotype from New Zealand’s bloody, colonial past—plus texts and images the killer sends her—provide Hana with a terrifying road map to what’s ahead if she can’t stop him. Through Hana, author Michael Bennett (Ngati Pikiao, Ngati Whakaue) connects the past and the present, both in New Zealand’s history and within Hana’s own life. To find the killer; keep her family safe, especially her university-age, politically charged daughter; and face a painful incident from her youth, Hana must undergo a transformation. And the woman we meet at the end of the narrative is indeed far different from the one who begins it. This is crime fiction at its best: well-paced, richly characterized, and fearless in confronting the pain of colonialism.
Murder at the wedding of one of Sri Lanka’s one percent? I initially imagined this to be a cozy affair, with lots of chatter about couture, gossip about affairs, and the body of one of the bridesmaids—the one no one likes—being discovered in the shrubbery, poisoned. Boy, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Yes, no extravagance is spared or undocumented—Vuitton is the bag of choice—but this crime novel is far darker, far more terrifying than I had ever imagined. It’s super-perfect Kaavi’s wedding—she of the billionaire family, the foundation devoted to girl empowerment, the perfect blow-out—and she’s invited her former best friend, Amaya, to the wedding. Not only were the two besties all throughout childhood, they were college roommates in the U.S., until an epic falling out involving Amaya’s boyfriend—whom Kaavi is now set to marry. Though they haven’t spoken in five years, Amaya flies to Colombo with one goal: stop the wedding, by any means necessary. Jealous much? Oh, if only it was mere jealousy in this nothing-is-what-it-seems narrative. Perfectly paced, rich in Sri Lankan culture, witty in its descriptions, and well aware of gender and class disparities, Jayatissa’s creation is that rare bird: the perfect thriller. By the author of My Sweet Girl, this book will appeal to fans of Julie Clark, Samantha Downing, and Lucy Clarke.
Hartstone’s debut draws on the real-life town of Marshall, Texas: a quarter of all patent cases in the country are heard there. In the 1990s, Judge T. John Ward made his courtroom in the Eastern District of Texas, or EDTX, a kind of patent-trial machine, using timers when lawyers spoke and limiting the number of pages they could file. In addition, Marshall’s juries award unusually high amounts in damages, all making EDTX attractive to those suing for patent infringement. Judge Ward is called Gardner here, but the practices are the same. Appearing in his court is Amir Zawar, whose rideshare app may have stolen another product’s design. Representing Zawar is James Euchre, a lawyer who tells himself he’s quit smoking…he only has a few per day, after all…and is trying to limit himself to three drinks a day. His resolve is tested when his client is, shall we say, reluctant to go along with court decorum. It’s not a great idea to hit your lawyer and threaten the judge’s life, but it’s even worse when the judge is later found dead. Euchre has never worked on a criminal case before, let alone one that could involve the death penalty, but Zawar insists he stay in the lead counsel seat, with both characters, along with Euchre’s love-interest coworker in the trial, taking readers on a tension-filled ride to justice. Lawyers, such as one Mr. Grisham, have long written compelling legal thrillers; this book, by an experienced TV writer, stacks up favorably against the legal greats.
Jewelann Jordan attends her high-school reunion to nonchalantly run into her former, sort-of-boyfriend, Christian Campbell, and dump him later that night as revenge for his behavior when they were teens. Christian, who reveals that he’s now a surgeon, and who takes more than one reunion attendee back to his hotel room, doesn’t take well to rejection. A few days later, Jewelann’s controlling husband, Ken, announces that he’s renting out their carriage house, has already found a tenant, and by the way he’s here already. You can guess who it is. Thus begins a fraught game. Jewelann believes Ken’s business trips are covering an affair, but she’s scared to confront him. And what if he knows about what Jewelann and Christian used to get up to in that carriage house, activities that Christian wants to continue and is threatening to reveal? The maelstrom of emotions and abuse boils over in the most shocking way, and readers will not be ready for the whoa-that’s-way-out-there ending. Hardy is a pseudonym for author Megan Hart, whose just released Coming Up for Air also opens with reunion shenanigans.[‘