February 2006

Welcome to the shortest month of the year (and thank goodness for that)! We're not going to desecrate the memory of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington by tying their accomplishments to a mystery book—although that would be kinda cool—but we will note that in a month celebrating love and Presidents, we consider it a mystery indeed that there's no "John-and-Abbey-Adams" series.  Just a thought.

What we do have this month is 12 mystery book reviews, ranging from the cozy to the noir, with a little Superman thrown in just for fun.  Authors include Rhys Bowen, Kathy Brandt and Deborah LeBlanc, and, well, nine more.  Read on.

While "How I Write" is taking the month off, our interview this month is a special one, indeed, as the proprietors of the Black Orchid Bookshop in New York City discuss what makes a good mystery, a good author and a good bookstore, and get ready to accept their special Raven Award at this year's Edgar ceremonies. 

Also, Chapter 21 of Murder By Committee, the twisting, turning, downright confusing serial mystery started by Julia Spencer-Fleming almost two years ago, adds to the fun and the dizzying story with a chapter by Randy Rawls that combines humor, suspense and Elvis Presley just to keep things percolating.

So sit back, try to forget your toes are freezing, and catch up on all that is good in mystery!  And keep a good thought: it's only 28 days until our next edition!

In this month's issue:

The Mystery Morgue Interview: Bonnie Claeson and Joe Guglielmelli, Black Orchid Bookshop

Reviews:
Painted Lady: A James P. Dandy Mystery, by Peter Abresch
Evan Blessed: A Constable Evans Mystery, by Rhys Bowen
Dark Water Dive, by Kathy Brandt
It's Superman!, by Tom DeHaven
Pursuit, by Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza
Grave Intent, by Deborah LeBlanc
Solomon vs. Lord, by Paul Levine
Cold Granite, by Stuart MacBride
Never Say Die, by Kris Neri
The Next Ex, by Linda Richards
The Sterling Inheritance, by Michael Siverling
The Belen Hitch, by Pari Noskin Taichert

Ongoing Story:
"Murder by Committee," Chapter 21, by Randy Rawls

Link to Archives

 

The Mystery Morgue Interview: Bonnie Claeson and Joe Guglielmelli, Black Orchid Bookshop

Bonnie Claeson and Joe Guglielmelli have owned the Black Orchid Bookshop on New York City's Upper East Side for more than 11 years, and in that time, have established the tight, two-story space as one of the premiere mystery bookstores in the world's busiest city. Nurturing new authors whose work they enjoy, acting as a "home base" for authors coming to the Big Apple and hosting one of the most celebrated Edgar Week traditions, the Black Orchid Party, everybody in the mystery business knows "Bonnie and Joe."  This year's Edgar event will be twice as special—Black Orchid is receiving a Raven award at the Edgar ceremony, in recognition of their love for—and from—the mystery community.

First of all, how did you come to create Black Orchid?  What was your background in mystery?

Bonnie has been selling mysteries since 1985.  Joe, who has been reading mysteries for almost forty years, was Bonnie's customer when she managed the uptown branch of the Foul Play bookshop.

When Joe walked into Foul Play one weekday afternoon, Bonnie introduced him to Bruce, a Berkley sales rep (and still our sales rep) as "an attorney who should own a mystery bookstore." Unbeknownst to her, Joe had come to the store to ask if she would be interested in opening a mystery bookshop with him.

The Black Orchid, named after Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe mystery, opened in 1994, approximately two years after that initial discussion. 

What kinds of mysteries do you read?  What do you look for in a mystery?

Between the two of us, we read the complete range of mystery fiction.  While Joe avoids the coziest of the cozies, Bonnie stays away from the most violent of the noir crime novel.  Nevertheless, there are many writers between these extremes whom we both enjoy such as Michael Connelly, Peter Robinson & Laura Lippman.

We both read primarily for character and appreciate an elegant writing style.  Any writer who can master the first person narrative such as Chandler or Ross MacDonald demonstrates a talent for both these qualities.  

What do you notice in mystery readers?  Are there characteristics that you think are common in mystery fans?

We find that mystery readers are, by and large, intelligent and knowledgeable, possessing strong opinions about their likes and dislikes they share with us and other customers in the shop. We have often seen customers sell their favorite books to each other.  Mystery readers are also fanatically devoted to their favorite writers and characters.

What has been your favorite event/meeting/moment in mystery retailing?

On the one hand, we have enjoyed our large scale Edgar and anniversary parties where we practically take over our entire street.  We love playing host to both our customers and authors at these block parties.  On the other hand, we also like those intimate moments where we can let our inner "fan" loose and talk with such well-established authors as John Mortimer, Dick Francis, Donald E. Westlake and the late Evan Hunter.

What do you wish authors knew about your side of the business that they don't?

We believe that most authors are pretty savvy about the business side of mystery fiction.  Authors today are very much aware that the bookseller and writer must work together to get the word out about a book.

How do you manage to offer services that large chain stores can't?

Simply put, we know and love mystery fiction.  It is an important and fun part of the job to make the right recommendation for a customer, to put a reader together with an author we know the reader will like.  If we do that well, we usually have a repeat customer.  Also, like a good detective, we are often able to identify books when our customers give us the most obscure clue.  Even an extremely computer literate clerk in a chain store cannot begin to perform these tasks.

Is selling mystery books in New York City different than it would be in, say, Wisconsin?  How?

There is more of everything in NYC to compete for the consumer's attention—more bookstores, more movie theaters, more plays, more musicals, more music venues.  It is sometime difficult to be noticed when there are so many entertainment choices.

This year, you're being given a Raven Award at the Edgars ceremony for your support of mystery authors.  Has it always been a part of your business plan to help emerging and established authors?  Why don't other retailers do the same type of thing?

Discovering and championing new writers is another fun aspect of our business.  It has been a pleasure in our 12 years to see neophytes become best sellers.  We also learned that our customers rely on our opinion about new authors. It is therefore important for us to read debuts rather than the latest entry in an established and well-known series.   

 

Reviews

Painted Lady: A James P. Dandy Mystery 
by Peter Abresch
Intrigue Press
Hardcover, 323 pages, $24.95
ISBN: 1890768472
Reviewed by Terri M. Tumlin

James P. Dandy (and yes, the author, James, and many of the other characters in the book know his name is Jim Dandy) is going on another Elderhostel trip with his lady friend, artist Dodee Swisher, headed out from Denver on the old Santa Fe Trail.  But what starts out as an informative excursion with some happy passion on the side soon becomes a matter of life and death.  While waiting for the trip to start, Jim sees a woman fall from a fifth story rooftop across the street.  Since he was, and part time still is, an EMT, he rushes out to see if he can do anything for her.  He can't, but because of his actions, there are those that think he has taken the dead woman's notebook.  The woman is a Native American shaman named Moondance Wolf, and it is not at all clear whether she fell, jumped or was pushed. Several people are very interested in acquiring that notebook.

Jim is interviewed by an enterprising TV reporter and soon everyone believes he knows the secret of a valuable Native American artifact, the Mayan Falcon, a mythical golden bird with diamond eyes.  Meanwhile, paintings that Dodee has made suddenly begin to acquire images of the dead woman.  Jim is having none of it, but the strange occurrences keep multiplying and Jim is hard pressed to get away from the "oooOOOooo" factor.  Some of his fellows on the trip have no such compunctions and theories abound with what the image of the Indian woman is trying to communicate.

As the Elderhostel trip progresses along the historic Santa Fe Trail, strange occurrences continue to happen, some apparently supernatural, others, including a high-speed chase in a full size tour bus, are certainly of human origin.  And some, who knows, might actually be a mixture of the two, including one hilarious scene near the end of the book.

Peter Abresch has written a delightful cozy in which all but one of the major characters is over the age of 55—the required age for participating in Elderhostel activities.  He draws his characters with a sure hand, producing a cast that will entertain readers of all ages while striking a very familiar note with the senior crowd.  Well mixed with his characters and the mysterious goings on, is the Elderhostel trip, which takes readers on an excursion to the various points of interest where the novel is set and allows them to hear the lore that makes travel in the American west so intriguing.

Painted Lady is a pleasant leisurely read, the perfect book to take on your travels around America.

 

Evan Blessed: A Constable Evans Mystery
by Rhys Bowen
St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 288 pages, $23.95
ISBN:  0312332068
Reviewed by Shirley Wetzel

It's summertime in North Wales, and Constable Evans and his sweetheart Bronwen are preparing for their upcoming wedding.  The ruined cottage Evan bought, perched on the hillside high above Llanfair, has been restored, and Bronwen is busily dragging Evan around to antiques shops in search of the perfect furnishings.  Evan's chapel-going widowed mother and Bronwen's high church parents show up to "assist" in the proceedings, whether they're needed or not.  The townsfolk have their opinions and helpful suggestions as well.  As the pressure builds, the lovebirds start seriously considering elopement.

Crime carries on, wedding or not, and soon Constable Evans is burning the midnight oil looking for a missing hiker.  The routine missing person case gets much more serious when searchers find a bunker near where the girl disappeared, complete with survival rations, bedding, chains and handcuffs.  While the investigation goes on, someone seems to be playing a twisted joke on Evan, sending him clues in disturbing letters and radio messages.  The case gets much more personal when Bronwen disappears.  In his frantic efforts to locate her, Evan has a lapse of judgment and finds himself facing one of his biggest fears.

Ms. Bowen has once again created a masterful blend of British cozy and taut suspense. Her characters are believable and real, the Welsh countryside lovingly portrayed, and the mystery well-plotted.

 

Dark Water Dive
by Kathy Brandt
Signet
Paperback, 263 pages, $5.99
ISBN: 0451212525
Reviewed by Janet Koch

Hannah Sampson flattens her cell phone in the trash compactor, says good-bye to snowy Colorado, and hops a plane for the British Virgin Islands. She's chucked her job as homicide detective—and leader of the police scuba team—at the Denver police department to become the BVI police department's most recent hire. Surely the sandy warmth will let her forget all those cold, dark dives.

Hannah basks in the sun and feels her jangled nerves relaxing. Her first case—the disappearance of the male half of an American couple—doesn't seem to be a cause for alarm. At first. When the missing man turns up murdered, however, Hannah realizes that the paradise she thought she'd found doesn't exist. Her new-found peace shattered, Hannah discovers the fears she thought she'd left behind have followed. To capture the killer she must make the most dangerous dive of her life... with no certainty that she'll ever come back.

While there were some minimal overdoses of information and an occasional need for a map, Dark Water Dive, despite the hefty subplots, delivers an action-packed tale. Between racing boat rides and conflict-ridden confrontations, author Kathy Brandt describes the BVI's residents and back roads from a viewpoint few tourists ever see.

But Dark Water Dive is at its best underwater, diving with the intrepid Hannah, who does what so many of us shrink away from. She faces her fears. And she dares to follow her dreams.

 

It's Superman!
by Tom DeHaven
Chronicle Books
Hardcover, 425 pages, $24.95
ISBN: 0811844358
Reviewed by Jeffrey Cohen

The permutations of Superman go on. Once just a straightforward comic book hero, stalwart and true, honest and fighting for, well, truth justice and... you know, Krypton's favorite (and, let's face it, only) son has gone on to star in movies—with another on its way this summer—television, graphic novels and "reimaginings" like Smallville and this novelty, a full-sized, mostly serious novel about the way Clark Kent decided to put on a spandex suit and fight crime.

And crime is at the heart of this book: it begins with the police investigating an incident at a Smallville movie theatre in the 1930s, with Clark, a teenager out on a date, finding himself face-to-face with his first criminal, a small-time gangster he recognized off a newsreel just shown.  It would be telling too much to say what happens in the scene, but suffice it to say that the Teenager of Steel puts his power to work pretty early on in the book.

Meanwhile, Lois Lane, having moved to New York (not Metropolis, New York!) to pursue her journalistic dreams, is smoking, drinking and living with a man, but she still has her principles.  She and Clark don't meet for much of the novel, but once they do, the world will never be the same.

Enter Alexander ("Lex") Luthor, an assemblyman in Fiorello LaGuardia's New York City, about to add to his already vast fortune with a fleet of robots (yes, you read that right) that have a purpose other than mixing martinis. 

DeHaven does a nice job of connecting the dots in Superman's mythology, the years between his childhood with the Kents and his establishment in whichever-name-you-want-to-call-the-city as a bona fide hero, fleshing out the characters, adding some grit where there used to be just gee-whiz niceness, and giving the whole story a purpose by placing it in the Great Depression, so that Clark has to get out of Smallville and see the world as it is, not as he'd like it to be.  Not everything is as it was in the original "mythology" of Superman, but that only adds to the novelty.  DeHaven's insistence on writing in the present tense is sometimes distracting, but not overly so after a chapter or two.

The characters, established as they are, still interact nicely, and the spin DeHaven puts on their relationships is both familiar and surprising as it develops.  It's all inevitable, finally, but the ride is what counts, and in this case, it's like being pulled into some very strong arms and flown through the sky.  It's a shame the next installment isn't only a month away.

 

Pursuit
By Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza
Henry Holt & Co.
Hardcover, 256 pages, $23
ISBN: 0805074392
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

This book, in a translation by Benjamin Moser, is the latest and apparently the last in the Inspector Espinosa series by Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza.  It is a story that is enigmatic from nearly the first page to the last. 

Inspector Espinosa is contacted by a psychiatrist, one Dr. Nesse, about a patient whose appearance triggers everything to follow. The patient has identified himself to the doctor as Jonas, although apparently his actual name is Isidoro—his last name never becomes known.  The book is broken into what are designated as Stories Number One, Two and Three, each one dealing with another "chapter" in this strange tale. The outline is perhaps best summed up by this statement made by the Inspector to Dr. Nesse, early in Story Number Two: "First, you come to the police to say that your daughter had been kidnapped. Then, you say that you know the kidnapper's name but won't reveal it, citing professional ethics. The next day, you report that your daughter has come home safe and sound. A while after that, a police car picks up your daughter walking down the Avenida Atlantica naked, and you place her in the same hospital where you work. Two weeks earlier, you commit a patient, the alleged kidnapper of your daughter. That patient is transferred from your hospital and eventually dies after a series of other transfers. But before he dies, he writes this letter and gives it to a hospital staff member, recommending that it be given to the police in the event of his death." Lest you think this constitutes a spoiler, be assured that it is only the bare outline of part of the plot, for it wasn't until the last page that this reader had more than a bare clue as to what was going on in this book, not necessarily a bad thing.

The circumstances surrounding all the plot developments are puzzling at best: a disappearance, mysterious deaths, and a letter reporting a homicide written by the victim himself.  The doctor at one point speaks of each of the characters seeming to be a ghost, himself included, and Espinosa at one point near the end of the book states that "the portraits he'd initially drawn in this case had become blurrier and blurrier, not because more time had passed but because the surface of each one had changed. Every time a mask was removed, the result was not a more genuine face but simply another mask." And what is beneath the final mask is not revealed until the very end of the book. 

Although I found the translation at times awkward, the characterizations are fascinating.  The portrait conveyed of Rio is very interesting, including the culture of systemic corruption in the police force, presented in a very matter-of-fact manner.  Pursuit is a very intriguing read.

 

Grave Intent
by Deborah LeBlanc
Leisure Fiction
Paperback, 374 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 0843955538
Reviewed by Angela McQuay

Part mystery, part ghost story, Grave Intent by Deborah LeBlanc is an interesting, suspenseful tale about family, the truth and the reasons you should not anger the dead.  Janet and Michael Savoy have a happy family life with their young daughter.  Though Michael, a funeral director, has had some trouble getting out of the debt his father left him when he took off and left the funeral home in his son's hands, the family has a good life—until they meet the Stevensons.

The Stevensons are gypsies who believe in spirits, paying their entrance into the afterlife and many other concepts that that Savoys can't even imagine.  When they come to the Savoy funeral home to have a service for 18-year-old family member Thalia, the Savoys are shocked at the different traditions they practice.  Instead of being a quiet, reserved affair, Thalia's funeral is attended by hundreds of people who bring food and alcohol and have no respect for the Savoys or their funeral home.  Michael's hands are full, but they get even fuller when his estranged father shows up and steals a coin that was placed in Thalia's coffin to pay her way into heaven.

Soon after, strange things begin happening.  Both Michael and his wife, who has taken their daughter and niece to the couple's cabin a few hours away, begin seeing the ghost of an old man who can suddenly turn into a large dog.  And the man/dog does more than just appear—he tries to destroy all those who were involved with stealing Thalia's coin.

In a race against time, Michael must find his wife and daughter, who has inadvertently ended up in possession of the coin, before the sun comes up on the second day.  If he can't, his family will be destroyed by the angry Stevenson spirit.  At once a tale of horror and of hope, Grave Intent is a thrilling page turner that will keep you hoping that the Savoy family can be saved.  It's also a meditation on forgiveness and the bond that exists between family—both in this life and the next one.  LeBlanc's second book after Family Inheritance, Grave Intent should satisfy readers of both mystery and horror genres.

 

Solomon vs. Lord
by Paul Levine
Bantam Books
Paperback, 546 pages, $5.99
ISBN: 0440242738
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

Steve Solomon is a seat-of-your pants kind of lawyer, one who plays by his own set of rules—literally.  The rules appear throughout the book, and appear in their entirety at the end of the book.  He has a resume that would impress no one.  Victoria Lord, on the other hand, has an impeccable and very impressive background.  When the two meet, they are on opposite sides of the legal fence as defense attorney and (rookie) prosecutor, respectively.  He is 35 and has had his own law practice for several years, working out of a seedy office in an even seedier neighborhood in Miami, primarily doing pro bono work.  His office space is rent-free. 

Victoria is 28 years old and has handled arraignments and preliminary hearings for eight months, having won her first two felony trials.  Of course, as is pointed out, neither one had involved Steve Slash-and-Burn Solomon.  Thus begins the adversarial relationship of Solomon vs. Lord.  Of course, the fireworks aren't limited to those that occur in the courtroom, although the fact that Ms. Lord is engaged to be married within the next few weeks does put a damper on that side of things.  But Mr. Solomon, as was noted, plays by his own set of rules.

The two attorneys form an uneasy partnership for the purpose of defending a woman accused of murdering her husband, a very wealthy and much older man who died in the throes of what can best and most easily be described as kinky sex—Victoria's privileged background has put her in the woman's social circle, and Steve's trial experience, especially those of a criminal nature, give him the credibility, and smarts, to handle this high-profile case.  In addition, Steve has to fight for guardianship of his nephew, an autistic savant who Steve rescued from the nightmarish situation of his sister's drug-addled life.  Also in the mix is Steve's father, a former jurist who was forced to resign before he could be indicted. 

What follows is a witty, fast-moving tale of legal and extra-legal shenanigans on the part of Mr. Solomon, who increasingly gets the buttoned-up Ms. Lord to loosen up and see the wisdom in his outside-the-bar thinking.  I seem to be late catching up to everyone else who has read this book and put in on their "best-of-'05" lists, but want to add my vote to those who placed it there.  The author's humor and engaging characters make this a terrific read. 

Recommended.

 

Cold Granite
by Stuart MacBride
St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 458 pages, $24.95
ISBN: 031233995X
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

This debut novel by Aberdeen author Stuart MacBride was on so many people's Best of 2005 list I had to pick it up, and was well rewarded for the effort.

Det. Sgt. Logan McRae has just come back to the Aberdeen Police Force after a year-long recuperation from a stabbing that nearly left him dead.  His first day back on the job is not a good one: the body of a little boy not quite four years old has just been found, after having been missing for several months.  And things go downhill from there.  Another little boy is reported missing; the body of a little girl is found, also quite young; and then another body is found, at first thought to be the missing boy but instead discovered to be that of a known "enforcer" whose kneecaps have been chopped off by a machete.  Sergeant McRae, who some now look at as a jinx, has his hands full.  And all this within his first 11 days back.

His troubles mount:  McRae's former girlfriend, at least up until the time of stabbing, when she too apparently was in peril, is the pathologist whose job it is to autopsy the bodies that have started to pile up.  The relationship between them has turned decidedly frosty.  He has a new boss, Superintendent Insch, whose reputation has preceded him: not a good one. Somebody seems to be leaking information to the newspapers, to the decided detriment of the investigation.  And then another little boy goes missing.

The Cold Granite of the title is wintry Aberdeen, sufficiently well depicted that one is tempted to turn up the thermostat a degree or two, and the locale definitely becomes a character in the book.  The characters are very well-drawn, and the ending is a nail-biter.  Cold Granite is a taut entry in the serial killer mode.  I am looking forward to the next book in what one hopes will be a series.

Recommended.

 

Never Say Die
by Kris Neri
Hilliard & Harris
Trade paperback, 230 pages, $16.95
ISBN: 1591330920
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

Never Say Die, the new book by Kris Neri and the first in what promises to be an excellent new series (following her Tracy Eaton mysteries), opens with a bang, almost literally, when its protagonist, Zoey Morgan, is struck by a car and, briefly, declared dead—the operative word being "briefly."  Zoey then has to discover who wanted to kill her (as, according to a witness, this was no accident), and why.  Zoey is a triathlete, in training for her next big race, and has sustained memory loss as a result of her brush with death, leaving her, and the reader, with gaps as to the days preceding the incident as well as various periods of time before that.  The author allows tantalizing hints as to Zoey's backstory, leaving the reader curious as to her secrets.

The book is comprised of short, punchy chapters, most no more than a few pages long.  Zoey is a strong protagonist, an independent woman loath to trust anyone around her, a protective instinct that almost, but not quite, betrays her in this suspense-filled story. 

Her lover-cum-sports agent Marty; her friend and co-triathlete, Cindy; Dale, the man who saves Zoey's life more than once, but who seems to be other than what he at first appears to be; Rob, who manages the events competition; various other athletes who Zoey has 'outed' as steroid users; any one or more of these in her circle could be involved in the numerous attempts on her life.  (The theme of trust is a recurrent one throughout the novel.)  And what of Willi Bogs, the singer/songwriter whose sudden disappearance and apparent death have brought instant stardom, but whose likeness causes a violent reaction in Zoey the cause of which she cannot fathom? 

The fascinating insights into the lives of the competitors in this sport, added to the whodunit and why of the well-written tale, make this a very good read.

 

The Next Ex
by Linda Richards
Mira Books
Paperback, 377 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 0778322408
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

Madeline (Madi) Carter, former New York stockbroker, now a West Coast day trader, is asked by her friend and landlord to teach the fifth wife of a movie mogul the basics of day-trading stocks on the Internet.  While teaching her pupil, they become good friends and she receives a gift of an unusual rock.

Madi is then invited to an A-list party at her pupil friend's estate.  During the party, Madi discovers her friend's murdered body.  Subsequently, two of the movie mogul's ex-wives are murdered and an attempt is made on the life of a third.

As in the debut novel in this series, Madi finds herself in all sorts of precarious situations. An attempt is made on her life three times.  But combining her financial skills and inquisitiveness, she and the police solve an interesting plot, which moves forward at a measured pace.

Well-written like the author's initial effort, the book is laced with a smattering of stock market minutiae for flavor (which hardly overwhelms the neophyte reader), but along the way plays a key role in the story.  The Next Ex is fun reading, the characters real and the story intelligent.

 

The Sterling Inheritance
by Michael Siverling
Thomas Dunne Books/St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 288 pages, $23.95
ISBN: 0312319274
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

Winner of the St. Martin's Press/First Private Eye Novel, The Sterling Inheritance introduces Jason Wilder, one of a long line of wise-cracking, fast-talking PIs.  The only difference is he works for the Midnight Investigations Agency run by his iron-fisted mother.  The agency's name is derived from his father, the head of an elite detective squad which had secret names—his was Captain Midnight.  The mother, who also was in the squad, was the Iron Maiden.  Two other squad members now also work for the agency.

We find the son on assignment, looking for a missing investment banker.  Why is he missing?  It takes the whole book to find out—and when we do, it results in a completely surprising ending.  Along the way are a couple or three harrowing experiences and lots of twists and turns, along with many acerbic comments by mother about her son's attributes-or lack of them.  They're cute.

All I can say is there is no doubt why the book won the award.  It is lively, well-written and -plotted.

 

The Belen Hitch
by Pari Noskin Taichert
University of New Mexico Press
Paperback, 296 pages, $14.95
ISBN: 0826339166
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

Belen is a small town in New Mexico a half-hour south of Albuquerque where everybody is either related to, or knows, everyone else.  Sasha Solomon drives in one day to visit a well-known painter as a by-product of her public relations project to determine the future of an abandoned Harvey House restaurant near the railroad yards.  One proposal is to set up a train museum, the other a modern art institute featuring the artist's works as the mainstay. The painter is wealthy and has left funds for various local projects, including this one, in her will.

Enter the first complication: Sasha arrives at the painter's home for an interview appointment and finds the artist's murdered body.  It subsequently develops that she was poisoned.  From this flow a number of further complications, including the fact that Sasha's mother was a close friend of the painter and is named executor of the will.  And apparently someone is trying to poison Mother as well.

Sasha's mother is in an assisted living home and is somewhat removed from reality, but that doesn't stop her from dropping clues along the way.

Traveling back and forth to Belen, trying to research the Harvey House project and unravel the mystery of the original murder, Sasha places herself in danger.  The denouement is unexpected and the reader really has no clue until the mystery is solved.

Like its predecessor, The Clovis Incident, for which the author was nominated for an Agatha Award, the novel travels the New Mexico territory—its culture, food, art and landscape—in closer detail.  The characters are believable and the plot intriguing.

 

Murder By Committee

Read past installments and find out more about Murder By Committee

Chapter 21
by Randy Rawls
My apologies to the dozens, yeah hundreds of authors whose writing I've enjoyed and who have influenced me over the years.  You taught me better.

As a career officer in the United States Army, Randy Rawls had a wealth of experience on which to draw.  Even after his retirement, Rawls worked for the government in a number of other capacities.  He understands the military and the bureaucracy.  Born and raised in Williamston, North Carolina, he understands the Southeast.

So, he's chosen to write murder mysteries set in Texas.

Rawls' Ace (Arthur Conan) Edwards series, set in North Texas, reflects the author's interests, but not all of them.  "I am fascinated by the history of the small towns of Texas and offer anecdotes from their history in each of my stories," he says.  "Most of all, I have had fun—every job has in some way been fun. Even the dark days of Vietnam had their light moments and I cherish the camaraderie that was an integral part of survival in that hostile world."

Ace, Dallas' most reliable private investigator, follows his creator's lead, and is resourceful and interested in a wide range of topics, not the least of which is Texas itself.  "I also found myself fascinated with the countryside and Cisco itself, Jake's Burn was born. Somewhere in all that, a Dallas PI became the hero—Arthur Conan Edwards, Ace. His namesake was the greatest mystery writer of all, Arthur Conan Doyle, and how Ace got his name is told in the series," Rawls says.

The series includes four titles (so far): Jake's Burn, Joseph's Kidnapping, Jade's Photos and a Christmas title, Jingle's Christmas.

She stared at Guthrie with blank but inquisitive eyes.  Her question played in his mind.  No, I mean, who are you.  What's your name?

"You've been pulling crap on me for days now," he said.  "Guess you figure I'm some bumpkin that floated in on a palm frond."

"What are you talking about?" she said.  "How long have I known you?"  She touched the lump on her head.  "Or, maybe I should ask, do I know you?"  She looked around the room again.  "And where am I?"

He stared at her.  Trick?  She'd pulled enough since he'd met her.  How far was she willing to go?  Might be fun to play along.

"So, you don't know me?"

"Wouldn't have asked if I did."  She looked under the covers then swung her legs around and put her feet on the floor.  Standing, she wobbled and dropped back onto the bed.  "Whee.  Either this room is spinning, or I'm woozy as a... a... Can't think of anything?  In fact, thinking's coming hard.  This headache.  Can you get me some aspirin or something?"

Guthrie tugged at his ear as he continued to study her.  If she was faking, it was a pretty good job.  He hit the intercom button.  "Three aspirin and a glass of water."

She stood again, this time in a deliberate manner, no sudden moves.  "There.  That feels better."  Fixing him with a glare, she said, "I asked who you are.  Why I came...  Uh-oh.  Where do I come from?"

He grinned.  Her act, if it was an act, deserved a co-star.  "I'm Elvis Presley, and you're Priscilla, my ex-wife.  Does that answer your questions?"

"You mean we were married?"  She sat on the edge of the bed.  "I don't remember.  Priscilla Presley.  Well, the name does have some familiarity."

"Honey, we were not only married, but we collapsed a lot of beds with your lustiness."  He grinned.  "I remember one time in Vegas where I was appearing—"

"Not now."  She stared at him.  "You don't look like the type I'd marry."

"Really?  And what type would that be?"

"I... don't know.  Priscilla?  It is a pretty name.  Is that what you called me?"

He almost laughed.  This was too much fun.  While he wasn't convinced she wasn't scamming him, it was more fun than he'd had in awhile.  "I called you Prissy.  You especially like it when we were rolling around.  I'd whisper, Prissy, Prissy, Prissy, and you'd groan in ecstasy."

She ran her hand over the cover.  "Why should I believe you?"

There was a discreet knock on the door, then it eased open.  "Come on in, Jones," Guthrie said.  "I was just telling Priscilla Presley about our life together.  Seems like she's lost her memory.  You remember when we were married, don't you?"

"Ah... yeah," Jones said, giving Guthrie a strange look.  "I brought her breakfast... and three aspirin like you said."

"Thanks," Guthrie said.  "Now go along while I get reacquainted with my ex-wife."  He winked.  "I know how to cure her headache better than any aspirin.  Used to do it all the time."

She stared at them, then her hand flew to her mouth.  "You touch me, and you'll need those aspirin more than me."

Guthrie laughed as Jones sat the tray on the table and turned to the door.  "Oh, I almost forgot.  Mr. Halsworth said for me to thank you.  Mc—ah, your ex might have done something stupid if you hadn't come along—like shot him."

Jones continued out the door.

"What did he mean, shot him?  Why would I shoot someone?  And who's Mr. Halsworth?"

Guthrie smiled.  This was getting better all the time.  Mr. Halsworth is the owner of the chip I asked you to bring.  I sold it to him."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and it still doesn't explain why I'd want to hurt him."

"Dang, woman.  That's why you're my ex.  Every time I explained something to you, you came up with more questions.  Forget about my curing your headache.  Just take the aspirin.  I'm plumb out of the mood already."  He stood and held out his hand.  "Give me the chip, and I'll get out of here."

"I don't have a chip.  Where would I put it?  I'm only wearing pajamas, and they're not even mine."

"You have a point there.  I checked your pockets before we washed your clothes.  Mc, ah, honey, you have to get your memory back.  Mr. Halsworth wants that chip, and you had it."

She sat at the table and dug into the eggs.  "That's the second time someone almost called me a name, and it wasn't Priscilla.  You wouldn't be shitting me, would you?"

"Of course not, my dear.  You eat, and I'll search your plane.  Maybe you left it there."

"Plane?  What plane?"

*          *          *

He left, and I dived into the food.  I might not remember much, but I was sure hungry.  When I sipped the last of the coffee, I leaned back, feeling like a million bucks.  The headache was gone and...  And nothing.  I still didn't know who I was, or who the guy with the line of bullshit was.  One thing I was sure of.  He wasn't Elvis Presley, and I wasn't his ex-wife, Priscilla.  Of course, I didn't know why I was sure, but I was.

May as well get dressed.  I walked to the bed, dropped the pajama bottoms, picked up the panties, and slipped into them.  They could be mine.  They fit.  After peeling off the PJ top, I looked at the bra, then at me.  Yeah, padding was a good idea.  Popping into it took no special skill.  Ouch.  Something stuck me.  I fingered into the padding and came out with a small piece of plastic, square in shape.  It had funny markings.  Could it be the chip the con man had talked about?

"Hey, Prissy."  The door swung inward.