This is one of those thrillers that opens with a full view of the crime—in this case, two men ambushing a Savage, Minnesota CEO and attacking him with real cougar claws and teeth. There was recently a sighting of one of the big cats in the area, so it’s easy for investigators to believe the businessman became a meal. The local sheriff who’s running for re-election has no objection to chalking the death up to wildlife rather than crime stats….but then Sam Rivers shows up to complicate his life. Sam, special agent for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, doesn’t care for bureaucracy or the sheriff, and persists in finding out what’s behind this event that looks suspicious to his expert eye. Just what looks off to Sam will teach readers about things like the structure of all cats’ paws, which parts of a person a cougar would eat, what one of the creature’s teeth embedded in a person’s spine should look like, and other juicy tidbits. In the human world that Sam deals with somewhat reluctantly, things are more complicated, as his investigation is a tangled web of an about-to-be-very-rich widow, her nosy neighbor, a journalist who’s also Sam’s love interest, and always that blustery sheriff. Sam Rivers is akin to Emily Littlejohn’s character Gemma Monroe—a likable, steadfast investigator whose work takes readers into the outdoors and the crimes it hides. He’s a character worth getting to know.
Mystery & Detective
Women in 1920s New York had to know their place. Even “girls” who worked, like Schellman’s heroine in this series debut, seamstress Vivian Kelly. Since they made so little, women could only get treats like a restaurant meal if a man bought it, yet taking gifts from a man was frowned upon. While Vivian is firmly stuck in this life by day, at night she shrugs off the stiff expectations of Florence, the older sister she lives with, and the meddlesome, haughty neighbor who predicts Vivian will “end up like your poor whore of a mother.” At the Nightingale, the speakeasy where Vivian dances with abandon and pursues her interest in both men and women, she feels more herself than anywhere else. Her idyll is marred, though, when she finds a corpse in the alley behind the club and later is arrested for being in an illegal bar; the Nightingale’s owner bails Vivian out and asks her to repay the debt by finding out more about the dead man. Schellman (Lily Adler Mysteries series) makes full use of underground life during prohibition, the romantic appeal of a speakeasy, and the love and camaraderie of poor families and friends to create a murder mystery with a rich historical and social backdrop. Vivian’s impetuousness and determination make her both lovable and compelling, and a possible lead on finding her mother’s family will bring readers back for the next series installment.
Aki and Hiro have decided to break up, but before they go their separate ways they agree to spend one last night together in their Tokyo apartment. A final evening for bitter-sweet lovemaking? Not with these two, who far prefer to discuss their failed relationship, from when they first met in their university’s tennis club to their decision to split. But Aki and Hiro are engaged in far more than just reminiscing. Every chapter the book switches narrator, unearthing some profoundly unsettling facts about their relationship, stretching from their painful childhoods to the death of a guide on a mountain climbing vacation they took a year ago. Is one of them responsible for his death? A bit of a thriller, a bit of a murder mystery, and entirely compelling, this literary who-dunnit is one that readers will tear through in one sitting.
There’s something comforting about a mystery that opens with the still-warm body of the victim. So when cheesemonger Willa Bauer discovers Sonoma food critic Guy Lippinger slumped over in his car, a knife from Curds & Whey—her new cheese shop—sticking out of his neck, we know we can relax and enjoy the ride. Guy passed by the store earlier in the evening to review it, and the review was clearly going to be a pan, which leaves Willa pretty much the number-one suspect. Willa is new to town, and in her efforts to clear her name and find the killer she gets to know both her colleagues at Curds & Whey and the other food entrepreneurs in town. Moss develops a great sense of community for Willa, filled with some stand-out characters and the potential for at least one love interest. While plenty of cozies have a food or drink focus—from coffee bars to bakeries—Moss does an excellent job of integrating cheese into the story, subtly teaching the reader while pairing cheese with plot developments. This all adds up to a series that readers will be eager to revisit.
n some places it’s easy to make good choices, and then there’s Bad Axe County, Wisconsin, where Sherriff Heidi Kick has clawed her way out of addiction and onto the right side of the law. Her deputy is likely the one using the office computers to exchange risqué communications with prisoners (the men’s comments, such as “if you have children of your own that is not at all a problem with me,” could be a novel of their own). The same deputy’s husband is causing Heidi headaches through his leadership of Kill the Cult, a group that gathers to protest a nomadic religious group that’s moved into a local abandoned storage facility. Cults, whether fiction or nonfiction, are always a big draw, but the undercurrent of strength shown by the sheriff, which is complemented by others who find their way to the right decisions when things heat up, is the quiet draw here. Galligan has created a flawed character to follow in Heidi Kick, who’s at once jaded by her past and her surroundings and ready to spring into action when needed. And boy is she needed. A nonfiction book by an ex-cultmember would be a great companion read to this: try Tara Westover’s Educated.
Part historical fiction, part mystery, this sweeping novel picks up the reader and transports them on a whirlwind trip from Sydney to London to Paris, where the long and compelling search finally comes to an end. It’s 1947, and the Second World War has been over for two years, although its impact remains enormous. Detective Billie Walker is hired by a well-to-do woman to find her husband, who’s been missing in Europe these past two years, and before you can say Qantas, Billie is up in the air, accompanied by Sam, her handsome assistant. Funny thing is, Billie also has a husband lost in Europe—a wartime photographer—providing the story with a double plot. But the greatest pleasure in this book comes from all the rich history and social commentary: the experiences of the Australian Aboriginal peoples with the police, the legal persecution of Australia’s gay men, Dior’s new look, London as it climbs out of from the Blitz, Paris as it tries to recoup, and so much more. The author has done her research, and it shows—in the best possible way. Moss does slam on the brakes, and the book rattles to a quick close, but that’s O.K. We’re happy where we’ve landed, and would follow Billie Walker anywhere.
What’s stranger than an eight-year-old Gretchen White standing over her murdered Aunt Rowan holding a knife dripping with blood? That child growing up to be a sociopath who works for the Boston police department and uses her access to investigate the crime, which she can’t remember. There’s a lot to learn here, and part of it is Dr. White’s lesson that her sociopathy is a neurodivergence, not a moral failing. Its core element—the inability to empathize with others—makes Gretchen an unlikely but effective psychologist, as her feelings don’t get in the way, as well as an oddly endearing villain. She’s highly aware of her emotional shortcomings, but others are too, and her vulnerability to the possible machinations of those surrounding this crime keeps the psychological twists coming. From the warped, rich family to the local woman desperate to find who murdered her sister—a separate crime that might be related to Aunt Rowan’s death—everyone’s a mess here, and everyone has motives and history that are painstakingly revealed and entwined. One for fans of Dexter and other characters we should loathe, but don’t.
After Andie Stern’s debut in Suburban Dicks—in which she solved a shocking murder in her New Jersey town—you’d think the former FBI employee would be ready for a little R&R. Or at least as much relaxation as a mother of five can get. But when the husband of Molly, a member of her mom’s group—which Andie secretly calls The Cellulitists—unexpectedly dies, Andie strongly suspects Molly is to blame. The hard part, but also the fun part, is proving it. Helped out by disgraced journalist Kenny Lee, a buddy from Suburban Dicks and the only man in the book who isn’t a complete, well, dick, along with new friend Sathwika, Andie follows the many leads, which eventually bring her and Kenny far too close to home. Nicieza, the co-creator of Deadpool, is a wonderful satirist, and the friction brought about his women characters’ multiple lives as mothers, wives, professionals, and even criminals is pure pleasure and more than just a little bit realistic. Towards the end there’s the hint that Andie and Sathwika may set up their own detective agency. Pray God this is so.
We’re back on the streets of Taipei with Jing-nan, the owner of Unknown Pleasures, a night market food stall. Taipei native Jing-nan spent a couple of years at UCLA only to be called home when his parents died, leaving him to run the take-out—a bittersweet turn of events. Here he’s initially accused of two murders: of a small-time criminal who dates his girlfriend’s mother, and of a police captain. With little effort, Jing-nan manages to worm his way out of the accusations, only—along with girlfriend Nancy, her mom, and his food-stall employees—to get sucked into the search for the real criminals. While the mystery, such as it is, chugs along on the back burner, we’re treated to Lin’s always wonderful array of characters, bits of Taiwanese history, and explanations of the current political scene—all without feeling like we’re in school. Lin is definitely a satirist, but this novel is deeply poignant at the same time. While this book can be read on its own, Lin’s books benefit from reading them in series, as so much of the writing is focused on character development.
It’s 1939 and a vicious serial killer is pursuing his bloody wont in Berlin’s trains. Assigned to these cases, which his superiors in the Kriminalpolizei, or Kripo, think are unrelated accidents, is Inspector Horst Schenke, a former racecar driver who’s embarrassed that injuries related to his old career have kept him from the front. He’s not one to rock the boat but quietly resists the ridiculous bureaucracy, lawlessness, and brutality of “the party,” even as his thuggish superiors hint and then state outright that he won’t get ahead without a Nazi badge. Glamorous dates (or as glamorous as nightly blackouts, rationing, and lack of fuel allow) with his resistance-leaning girlfriend keep the moral quandaries from eating Schenke up too much, but when the killer goes after a Jewish woman, Ruth Frankel, a surviving witness whom the inspector feels compelled to save, the pressure is on. Nazi higher-ups feel the woman can be used as bait and force a bootlicking rule-follower to shadow Schenke’s every move so he’ll comply. At the same time, the killer continues his spree while attempting to cover his tracks, an effort that puts Ruth and her protector in grave danger. The close calls and chases in this novel are truly scary, and the unusual perspective ramps up the intrigue. Fans of serial-killer mysteries who are looking for something a little different are the audience for this one.