February 2007

Are you used to it being 2007 yet? Neither are we. Here at the Morgue, we're still getting cozy with the idea of writing "07" on toe tags.

But hey: there's still plenty of mystery work to do! In this month's issue, there are 19 books reviewed, by authors like Janet Evanovich, David Skibbins, James Lee Burke and Elaine Viets.

Plus, you'll find an interview with Sarah Weinman, blogger, reviewer, author and mystery expert extraordinaire. Weinman, who blogs for GalleyCat and has her own site at Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind, talks about her roots in mystery fiction, what's sitting in her drawer, and how she decides what books are worth reviewing.

Our "How I Write" essay this month is by David Corbett, author of the current Blood Of Paradise and other thrillers, who walks us through his process, while being careful not to recommend it to others.

And this month's chapter of Murder By Committee, the serial mystery that just won't lay down and die, is by Kathleen Tracy, an entertainment journalist whose first mystery novel, Unkindness of Ravens, was published by Paribus Press. If you think you know what to expect, we'd like to know what you've been drinking.

Hurry up and read: the month's only 28 days long!

In this month's issue:

How I Write, by David Corbett
The Mystery Morgue Interview: Sarah Weinman

Reviews:
Death of a Dreamer by M.C. Beaton
Field of Fire by James O. Born
Pegasus Descending by James Lee Burke
The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
The Hayloft by Alan Cook
The Cleanup by Sean Doolittle
The Arsenic Labyrinth by Martin Edwards
Plum Lovin' by Janet Evanovich
Cruel Sister by Deborah Grabien
Death at Victoria Docks by Kerry Greenwood
How to Seduce a Ghost by Hope McIntyre
Well Bred and Dead: A High Society Mystery by Catherine O'Connell
Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime by Robert J. Randisi
Homicide 69 by Sam Reaves
Baked Alaskan by William Scarborough
The Star by David Skibbins
The Big Boom by Domenic Stansberry
Murder Unleashed by Elaine Viets
Dead Head by Allen Wyler

Ongoing Story:
"Murder By Committee," Chapter 30, by Kathleen Tracy

Link to Archives

 

How I Write (Or: What the Hell Am I Thinking?)
by David Corbett

In 1983, David Corbett joined the private investigation firm of Palladino & Sutherland in San Francisco, figuring the job might provide a little material here and there. He stayed thirteen years. During that time, he worked on a number of high-profile criminal and civil litigations, including the Lincoln Savings & Loan Case, The Cotton Club Murder Case, The People's Temple Trial, the Michael Jackson case and a RICO civil litigation brought by the Teamsters against former union leaders associated with organized crime. In 1995, he eased out of private investigation work to open a small law practice with his wife, Terri, specializing in probate litigation, estate planning and small business law. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in September, 2000, and in January, 2001, passed away at age 46.

David is the author of the current Blood Of Paradise, as well as Done for a Dime and the Devil's Redhead.

My novels almost always start with an idea, a situation, or a conflict that piques my interest, and which suggests to me a story line of some sort, though that is typically vague at the outset. (Beginners beware: This is not a strategy I would recommend; it's just my own muddled method, developed through half-assed trial and error.)

In the case of The Devil's Redhead, the germ of the book was a discussion I had with a co-worker when I was a private investigator. I'd started out in the early eighties working marijuana smuggling cases, and the defendants (our clients), were by and large not so much criminal in their inclinations as simply wild. By the latter part of the decade, all of that changed. I remarked to my buddy, "We're not getting the clients we used to," and he responded, "If those guys were still in the business, they'd be betrayed or killed."

For my second novel, Done for a Dime, I had several things I wanted to address, gathered both from my work as a private investigator and from my wife's law practice: the hard grind for ethnic neighborhoods in post-industrial cities, the too-often peculiarly explosive nature of probate proceedings (family, death and money), the corruption surrounding real estate development, and the often morally ambiguous nature of real police work, especially when mixed with racial tension. But the spark that set off the story (excuse the pun), was a conversation I had with my arson investigator nephew that started with the question: "How do you burn down a whole neighborhood?" His answer, based on a real incident he knew of in Baltimore, provided me with the major crime at the heart of the story. To all of that I added my love of R&B and jazz, which gave me the idea for my starting scene—the senseless murder of an aging musician.

My latest novel, Blood of Paradise, took form after I read a play by Sophocles called Philoctetes. I saw the setup for a cop story in it, though it would require a foreign locale. The only foreign country I know with any specificity is El Salvador, and the country became relevant again when certain political commentators began to pronounce that our "success" in El Salvador provided a template for "victory" in Iraq.

In each case, I began with just a certain environment: a moral climate, if you will, a social dilemma (or several mixed together). Then I began developing my characters: their physical, psychological, and sociopolitical selves, with particular attention on what they want, what and who they love, their moments of greatest joy and pride, their most shameful secrets. I build biographies around these questions, then ask myself the classic What if questions: What if this character found himself in the place and time of this novel—How did he get here? What will he do? What will his fellow characters do? What would happen next?

At this stage, the story begins to take form: A smuggler from the bygone days leaves prison after ten years hoping to reconnect with the love of his life, but finds the world changed in more ways than he imagined (The Devil's Redhead). A detective haunted by his brother's pointless death in the Vietnam War sees the opportunity to redeem that sacrifice by bringing to justice those responsible for an urban firestorm in his own hometown (Done for a Dime). A young bodyguard whose father was a corrupt cop tries to live up to his own sense of manhood, while still accommodating a dubious request from another morally compromised father figure—his old man's best friend (Blood of Paradise).

I think scenically and, as I'm doing my character work and my background research, scenes begin to suggest themselves—I write them out on index cards, which I arrange on my dining room table (no, I don't entertain much), using a different color for each key character. As dialogue begins to take shape—i.e., I begin to hear voices in my head—I'll sketch the lines out on the computer in very rough draft form. During this brainstorming I don't edit the process much. That comes next, as I begin to shape my scenes into three act structure: What's my setup, what's my triggering incident, what's my turning point, my mid-point, my climax? I also think in terms of story arc: what is my protagonist's back-story wound? What is the dysfunctional defense he uses to deal with it? How does the catalytic incident begin the process of the erosion of that defense? How does the subsequent conflict continue that process of erosion? What causes his crisis of insight, when he has to choose whether to change or die? How do the climax and the crisis of insight support each other? Does he ultimately move beyond his past or remain trapped by it—and does that decision lead to victory over his nemesis or not, regardless of how he chooses? (In Done for a Dime, for example, my protagonist defeats his enemy, but does so without making the fundamental change of character that would redeem him. This is a theme I return to often: how even honorable acts often have decidedly mixed motives, and how victory often contains an element of the tragic.)

I do not try to manipulate the plot to contrive suspense. Rather, I try to create tension through the interacting and mutually incompatible passions of the characters. I often try to devise three through lines, one for each major character, so that they are working at cross-purposes in more than just one way.

As I'm writing, I revise language and shape my scenes continuously, often starting my day by going back over what I completed the day before and touching up the scenes, to get my focus back into the story. I usually build the first draft as I go along, and it is usually quite close to my final draft, save for some cutting and reshaping.

Then I send it to my agent, who reviews it, and may or may not make suggestions. I'll do the suggested reworking, then it's off to the publisher, with further rewrites as my editor deems fit.

Sooner or later: a book appears. Like magic.

 

The Mystery Morgue Interview: Sarah Weinman

Sarah Weinman, a Canadian native now living in New York City, has a deep affinity for crime fiction. Besides writing it herself (her short stories, best categorized as Canadian noir, point to an ambition to write crime novels, which she acknowledges), she reviews crime fiction for such outlets as The Washington Post and the Baltimore Sun, among others.

But Weinman may be best known today as the crime fiction blogger whose Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind is a first-stop-in-the-morning web site for most interested in the genre, and who blogs more generally on publishing at GalleyCat. Her insights are always plentiful, entertaining and never mean, even when talking about books she doesn't like.

In this interview, Weinman discusses her criteria for reviews, the power of blogging and her ambitions to open her desk drawer and pull out... well, we'll leave that revelation to her.

Interview by Jeffrey Cohen

Let's start off with the obvious: How does it feel to wield tremendous power in the world of crime fiction? In a relatively short time, you've established a very impressive name for yourself, and your opinions are considered carefully.  Is that fun, daunting, or both? Show your work.

"Tremendous power"—funny you say that, because just this afternoon a friend of mine was speaking of my blog to others in the room as having "tremendous influence" and so forth. It does in that several thousand people log onto the site on a daily basis and it provokes discussion and has been written up in national publications, but that could easily change on a dime. So much of Confessions' success is based on luck and timing—with a lot of hard work before, during and after—that to place extra emphasis on its influence is somewhat disingenuous. It all brings to mind a quote by one of my all-time favorite writers, Shel Silverstein: "I have an ego, I have ideas, I want to be articulate, to communicate but in my own way. People who say they create only for themselves and don't care if they're published... I hate to hear talk like that. If it's good, it's too good not to share. That's the way I feel about my work."

What first attracted you to crime fiction? You're very passionate on the subject, and it seems to be something that has been with you for a long time.

My interest in crime fiction was born out of an interest in crime stories that began at the age of eight. I was a baseball freak, obsessed with boxscores and stats and when the Encyclopedia of Baseball found its way to the family doorstep, I spent hours poring over the damn thing, especially when a previously unknown morbid streak emerged. That's because most of my time was spent looking up details on how baseball players died—the more gruesome and inexplicable death, the better. A few years later my nose was deep into books by Walter Mosley, Agatha Christie, Edna Buchanan and the Kellermans, but it wasn't till college that I really began to love the genre and seek out its best and brightest—something I try damn hard to do now. 

As a reviewer, what do you look for in a book, beyond that it not  suck?  By definition, criticism is subjective; do you have some ingrained prejudices that you need to overcome?

My instinct is to go for bigger, more "literate" crime novels, whatever that means. I exclude amateur sleuths and cozies more often than I probably should, sometimes falling into the trap that packaged novels and more restrictive fare means the writing is inferior (often it is, but there are bad PI novels, bad historical thrillers, really, bad crime novels whatever the categorization.) Even after several years as a professional reviewer, a lot of my judgments are based on instinct—if the book grabs me, I figure out the reason later and hope I can articulate it well enough so that others can make an informed judgment about the book in question. I don't expect agreement or disagreement, but try to be fair. Not every book will be my cup of tea; some I'll detest with a passion that invites reams of critical drubbing. But the worst books are those I can't think of a word to say about because they fall into the "mushy mediocre" category. 

The cliched reviewer question: How do you choose which books you will  review?

Depends on the publication. For the Sun, I can choose any book I like and so I like the column to satisfy an ideal mix of hardboiled/noir/cozy/amateur/historical/translation/equal gender ratio/publisher qualities—I can't get everything in only five books, but most of the time I get close. For other papers, either the books are assigned or I pitch some titles I think are appropriate for the publication (lately I've concentrated on crime novels that "cross over" because in my view, I'm more likely to get a good 600-800 words of criticism, and also because more genre-specific fare has been allocated to others.) And again, instinct comes into play. With over 50 books a week coming to my doorstep, I have to make quick choices. There have been times I've regretted not reviewing a book but fortunately, that's where the blog comes in, as praise or criticism is not time-specific since it'll be archived "forever" (if not directly on my site, then through Archive.org, god bless 'em.)

How hard is it to separate your many avenues?  Is it difficult not to blog about the same topics on Galley Cat and Confessions, or do topics immediately fall into one category or another?

When I started at GalleyCat I thought there would be a lot more overlap, but I also made the conscious choice of really narrowing the focus of Confessions (though I post less than I used to; keeping up two blogs does get time consuming...) to be about crime fiction, with some digressions into absurd stories or criminal cases that pique my interest. But if it's about the industry or the book biz, that's GC's domain. If it's crime fiction, Confessions all the way. And if I crosspost items, I do try to make it different because they are two separate publications. 

How does one get to be a cabana boy/girl?  Is a physical examination necessary?

Ah, the Cabana Boy thing. Here's where I must confess that I've almost forgotten the origin, though it started off in the early days of Confessions when the only commenters I had were a group of guys who were the original (for better or for worse) Cabana Crew. But when the day comes for a redesign of the site, the blogroll will be revamped considerably—and the Cabana Boys will be retired, along with other 80s fads like leg warmers and horrible perms. 

As a writer, you belong to that enormous club: Canadian Jewish Noir Writers.  How can you hope to stand out in that crowd?  (Seriously,do you want to establish a niche for yourself, or are you more comfortable freelancing and writing about any subject that suggests itself?)

Most of my freelance writing seems to be about books and publishing, but one of my goals for '07 is to branch out into other topics dear to my heart: criminal cases, biological and forensic sciences and the like. Things are happening—slowly—but we'll see where I'm at in six months.

In terms of fiction, I figured out long ago that I wanted to "write Jewish," whatever that means, and the conflicts between religious and secular worlds fascinate me, because I struggle with them constantly. I write crime fiction, but I can see the day that I move into murkier, less easily classifiable territory. 

You really have taken to New York City since moving there a few years back.  Does New York infuse your writing/blogging/reviewing/reporting, other than being the center of the publishing world?

Oh god yeah. But that's because I can't imagine living anywhere else. Well, that's not true, I can, but I don't want to for the forseeable future. So because I love this city, it bleeds into everything I write. How can it not? 

You refer on occasion to the novel that's "in a drawer," and you say that's where it belongs at the moment. Any plans to take it out, or work on another?  And if/when you do publish a crime novel, do you worry about a backlash after offering opinions publicly on so many others?

I am working on another, and though I am frequently inundated by thoughts of putting this one in a drawer, I may finish this one—someday. The other one doesn't work in its present form, but it may in a completely rejiggered one that I look forward to tackling in the near future. For now, I'd at least like to finish something that's somewhat publishable. 

There's a self-deprecating quality to your writing and blogging that's very appealing. What drives that, and how do you think it's helped or hindered you?

The self-deprecation likely comes out of my tendency to underestimate things, whether for real or for a laugh. It's part of, I don't know, the feeling that I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, lest the Evil Eye come out and mock me for the rest of my days. Besides, people who take themselves too seriously are simply no fun, and if I can poke a few holes in my own self-inflation, I'm probably easier to deal with, be it online or in real life. 

What do you wish you could change about mystery publishing?  Please keep in mind, we're a monthly publication, and have limited web space.

If I had one wish, it's that everyone—authors, readers, publishing people—accepts that it's perfectly all right to be challenged, and that feeling uncomfortable does not mean that it's bad. But fear is a powerful emotion and really hard to overcome, especially in a conservative business like publishing and an even more conservative genre like crime fiction. 

 

Reviews

Death of a Dreamer
by M.C. Beaton
Warner Books
Paperback, 277 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 0446618136
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

This long-standing series, set in the Scottish Highlands, finds Constable Hamish Macbeth surrounded by several females, all providing some kind of romantic interest.   Then one of the women (not romantically linked to Hamish) is found dead up in the mountains.  The official police decision is suicide.  But Hamish isn't sure, and persists.  Indeed, it turns out to be a case of murder.  Later, another woman is murdered.

With a few of his former girlfriends distracting him, Hamish fumbles around, but in the end, reaches the proper conclusion.  As in previous novels in the series, the writing and color are in keeping with the setting, and the story and characters charming.  The next in the series is to be published this month. 

 

Field of Fire
by James O. Born
G. P. Putnam's Sons
Hardcover, 352 pages, $25.95
ISBN: 978039915398
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

Alex "Rocket" Duarte, ambitious ATF agent and explosives specialist (his nickname was given him in high school—he "took off fast... and couldn't change direction once he got going"), is asked to head up an investigation into the latest in a series of bombings in disparate locations across the US, which appear to have implications of union harassment.  The latest incident occurs at the site of a migrant labor camp where Duarte tries, and ultimately fails, to arrest a fugitive wanted on an illegal gun trafficking charge.  Another interesting character is Mike Garretti, reluctant hitman, who muses at one point that "for a guy who kills people with bombs, he was way too judgmental." 

Caren Larson is a Dept. of Justice attorney assigned to work with Duarte on the investigation, who must decide whether and to what extent to compromise her ethics on the altar of ambition, something faced by Duarte as well.  The death toll mounts as Alex becomes more and more determined to get to the bottom of what increasingly looks like some sort of conspiracy, with intimidation of union organizers being just a smokescreen.  The suspense mounts steadily, as it becomes difficult to tell the good guys from the bad.

Duarte seemed to this reader to be surprisingly naïve for an experienced agent, another trait he shares with Mr. Larson.  We are reminded several times that he lacks skill in interviewing and reading people.  I thought Duarte's naivete extended as well to his social life, though he becomes a bit more adept at both by novel's end. 

James Born's writing has been compared to that of Elmore Leonard (one of two men to whom Born has dedicated this novel).  I wouldn't go that far, but Duarte's an interesting new protagonist introduced by the author in Field of Fire, and the book is recommended.

Pegasus Descending
by James Lee Burke
Simon & Schuster
Hardcover, 356 pages, $26
ISBN: 0743277724
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

Pegasus Descending opens with a recounting of Dave Robicheaux' time in an exchange program between the New Orleans Police Dept. and a training academy for police cadets in South Florida, where his hours are divided between the homicide unit at the Miami P.D. and a criminal justice class at a community college a bit further north.  That was in his drinking days, when most of his down-time was spent in bars. 

He says of those with whom he spent that time:  "Most of them drank with a self-deprecating resignation and long ago had given up rationalizing the lives they led, I suspect allowing themselves a certain degree of peace."  He tries to go on the wagon, but finds himself back in the bar, pretending "once again I could drop lighted matches in a gas tank without consequence." 

One of his few friends among the regular bar customers is a young man names Dallas Klein, a highly decorated Vietnam war hero who works for an armored car company, with a 6-year-old daughter and an addiction to gambling.  One afternoon when Dave is, as usual, seriously drunk, Dallas, his best friend, is gunned down in an armored car holdup/bank robbery in front of Dave, and the moment has haunted him ever since.

Fast forward two decades.   Dave has long since been sober, having joined AA shortly after the bank robbery, the perpetrators of which were never caught.  He has left New Orleans and returned to New Iberia, and is a detective with the Iberia Parish Sheriff's Department.  When he is called out to investigate a relatively minor incident involving possibly stolen money, the woman in possession of the bills turns out to be Trish Klein, Dallas' daughter. 

The more Dave discovers about Trish, the less sure he is of anything about her.  What is he to make of her friends, who strike him "like people who met at a bus depot and decide to live together?"  And he must determine what, if any, connection she had with the apparent suicide of a local girl, described as "young and beautiful and full of promise," whose body is discovered the same day Dave first meets Trish.  As the author says, crediting Faulkner with the line, "the past is not only still with us, it is not even the past."  Pegasus Descending is full of surprises, passion, tragedy and fascinating characters, including, as usual in the series, Dave's old NOPD partner, Clete Purcel, and Helen Soileau, now the Sheriff. 

It is well-plotted, with wonderful prose and.a setting lovingly, nostalgically  and wonderfully evoked.  In short, it is everything we have come to expect from this author, and is recommended.

The Woman in White
by Wilkie Collins
Tor Publishing
Paperback, 672 pages, $7.99
ISBN: 0765353954
Reviewed by Carl Brookins

Mystery fans should read the first few pages headed Preface.   The preface was written in 1861 by the author, apparently upon first publication of the story in novel form.

The novel is, as Collins suggests, first and foremost a story, and its appeal stems largely from the author's adherence to the belief that stories, to be popular and good, needed to relate to real people, so readers could identify with the characters.  It is also useful to remember that like, A Tale of Two Cities, The Woman in White first appeared in a weekly serial form, in a journal titled All The Year Round.  The publisher of the weekly was Charles Dickens.  The novel's serialization began the same week that "Tale of Two Cities," was completed.

The novel is very long, and like many other Victorian novels, relies heavily on the language and narrative skills of the author, rather than the dialogue of the characters.  The current edition weighs in at a daunting 672 pages.  But they are rich pages filled with illuminations of the times.  From this novel readers will gain a deeper understanding of the way in which the social structure of the time was organized, between the sexes, and the classes, the wealthy and the poor, the unlettered and the educated.  Women deemed themselves powerless at many levels, and were seen to be so by men who too often preyed upon them.

As principal narrator, Collins offers Londoner Walter Hartright, a commoner, a young teacher of drawing.  He is engaged to teach a titled woman in an estate outside of London, near Cumberland.  Laura Fairlie is pretty, untalented as a painter, an heiress and engaged to be married to a titled Lord.  She falls in love with Walter and he with her, and from that emotional connection, the long winding road of the novel is energized.

The night before he is to leave for the Fairlie estate, Hartright is walking to his lodgings when he encounters a near-apparition in the road, a woman dressed all in white who is in a highly agitated state.  As a gentleman should, Hartright provides her with a modicum of assistance which allows the unnamed woman to avoid her pursuers.  This single act of kindness has many consequences and infuses the novel with a tangled thread that will carry readers through the entire book and adds a profound sense of mystery and even other-worldliness to the narrative. 

Victorian language can be fulsome and tedious, and a consideration of the book should be tempered by the fact that the novel came originally to readers in weekly segments, yet the power of Collins' writing, his mastery of the elements of the story and his deep understanding of basic human motivations, make The Woman in White a compelling read.

The Hayloft
by Alan Cook
AuthorHouse
Paperback, 266 pages, $14.49
ISBN: 1425942210
Reviewed by Caryn St.Clair

In The Hayloft, Cook has spun a tale helping baby boomers to remember that not everything from our childhood was innocent. The Hayloft brings back the nostalgia of a time when children were free to be children and when neighbors knew each other. But the book also forces the reader to remember some of the darker sides of the 1950's and early 1960's when innocent people's lives were ruined by McCarthy's hunt for Communists and middle America built bomb shelters in their backyards.

Set against this backdrop of conflicting times, The Hayloft has two different mysteries for the reader to follow involving the protagonist Gary Blanchard's family.  Gary was kicked out of school and after some maneuvering on his parents' part; he is allowed to enroll in a neighboring school. The new school is the very same one his cousin Ralph attended until he fell to his death from the balcony in the gymnasium. Did Ralph really fall and if he did, was it truly an accident?

Also attending Carter High are Gary and Ralph's recently arrived English cousins, Ed and Kate Drucquer. Ed is fascinated by a family legend of a valuable necklace which had at one time belonged to the Royal family. The necklace was supposedly brought to this country by Ralph and Gary's grandparents when they emigrated. Though the story is dismissed by everyone in Gary's family as a myth, Ed is obsessed with finding the necklace. Does the necklace actually exist? Did Ralph know where it was hidden?

Cook has the details in this book just right. Having grown up in that era, in a small Midwestern town I felt like I had been transported back to my childhood. I knew people with bomb shelters and haylofts and spent time playing in both. The bomb shelters are every bit as creepy feeling as described in the book and the haylofts every bit as fun, complete with forts, slides and tunnels built out of the hay bales.

The Cleanup
by Sean Doolittle
Dell
Paperback, 336 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 0440242827
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

Matt Worth is a cop in Omaha.  He is on probation for messing up—the latest incident: punching a detective who is sleeping with Matt's ex-wife.  As punishment he is assigned to the graveyard shift at a local supermarket that has been robbed a couple of times.  To keep busy, he bags groceries and becomes friendly with a checkout clerk.

The clerk has a boyfriend who bashes her around one time too many.  She clobbers him to death.  Matt becomes involved when she asks his help.  He undertakes a cover-up of the murder, taking the body in the victim's car to his ex-con brother's junkyard in the next state.  There, the brother incinerates the corpse and chops up the car—but not before discovering a quarter of a million dollars in cash.

From this point on the plot evolves in all kinds of unexpected twists and turns.  At each step of the way, it looks like Matt is going to be discovered.  But each time he develops a new subterfuge, half-truth, fact or excuse.  The action continues unabated right down to the final page, and so should you.

Recommended.

The Arsenic Labyrinth
by Martin Edwards
Poisoned Pen Press
Hardcover, 304 pages, $25.95
ISBN: 1590583280
Reviewed by Carl Brookins

Martin Edwards has a distinguished career of crime writing, both fiction and non-fiction.  He's been short-listed for a CWA dagger and has been tapped for editorial duties on a number of past occasions.  The present novel reflects his experience and mastery of the craft in this third Lake Country novel.  Here again we have historian Daniel Kind, son of a former area detective, DCI Hanna Scarlett, head of a cold case squad, and a cast of local characters who provide substantial fascination as we follow the historian and the detective on separate but linked paths to the solution of a ten-year-old disappearance.

The desolate fells behind the village of Coniston give rises to many legends and more than a few secrets.  On the tenth anniversary of the event, the local newspaper, egged on by an arrogant, self-important reporter, prints a story on the enduring mystery of the disappearance of a woman named Emma Bestwick.  Shortly thereafter the reporter receives a whispered call from someone who clearly knows more than he's ever before told about what really happened to the woman named Emma Bestwick.

DCI Scarlett is learning that a significant part of being the head of a major investigatory unit requires paying attention to public interest in addition to budget balancing and arrangement of limited resources.  It's no longer sufficient merely to be a top-notch detective. 

In spite of almost instinctual antipathy to the reporter, Scarlett finds it necessary to talk to the man and thus opens up new lines of inquiry into the disappearance.  At the same time, newly resident historian Daniel Kind is developing interest in the celebrity of deceased local writer/philosopher, John Ruskin.  Kind, a minor celebrity in his own right, needs a new subject on which to focus his energy and talent.  Will Ruskin's life and slow fall into a certain madness give Daniel the foundation for a new book?  His search for information ultimately crosses paths with Scarlett's as she and her team draw ever closer to surprising answers to the riddle of Emma Bestwick, who hid some mysteries of her own.

The labyrinth of the title was a series of large flues built above a furnace in the fells to extract deadly arsenic as a heavy vapor from the ore and then collected by workers from the walls of the flues.  It was a dangerous process, largely abandoned after the nineteenth century and in this story, the deteriorating works are the site of depraved and dangerous activities.

Edwards has fashioned a complicated and intriguing story.  The pace is steady and draws one in, page by page.  We soon want to know not only how the story works its way out of the labyrinth, but how the truth affects some of the principals.  A fine, well-written, twisty story that will hold reader's interest to the end.

Plum Lovin'
by Janet Evanovich
St. Martin's Press
Hardcover, 164 pages, $16.95
ISBN: 0312306342
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

Yenta the Matchmaker has nothing on Stephanie Plum, who in this short novel trades in her bounty hunting skills for making four couples a great Valentine's Day.  The reason is that the mysterious Diesel (as opposed to the mysterious Ranger) shows up unexpectedly offering her a deal: in exchange for Stephanie playing matchmaker, he'll trade Annie Hart, a relationship expert who skipped out on her bail bond for armed robbery.

With Valentine's Day only a few days away, Stephanie has her work cut out for her.  A series of amusing situations arise, and she has to apply lots of ingenuity to solving the problems, not the least of which is that of a gangster who has captured Annie.

The story is somewhat different than others in the series, but, after all, it is a Valentine's Day saga rather than a light-hearted mystery novel.  Of course, it is equal in quality to the preceding entries in the series, a fast read and kind of cute.

Cruel Sister
by Deborah Grabien
Thomas Dunne Books
Hardcover, 230 pages, $23.95
ISBN: 0312357575
Reviewed by Caryn St.Clair

Too often readers equate ghost stories with horror. To do so with Cruel Sister would be a huge disservice to Grabien's series featuring Penny Wintercraft-Hawkes and her boyfriend, Ringan Laine. As in each of the previous books in the series, there is a strong connection between the plot and a folk ballad which gently pulls the reader back and forth between the present day and the time of the ballad. For this book, Grabien drops the reader into 16th century England.

Laine, a folk musician by profession who is also an expert on period architecture, is asked to assist Penny's brother and new wife design their Tudor style home on the Isle of Dogs. While visiting the building site, Laine has a tragic vision of a young girl. Oddly enough, while researching who the girl might be, he realizes there is a folk song that tells the very story he has envisioned. Before long, readers are totally immersed in the court of Henry the Eighth in 1540 as well as the struggle of the young girl's spirit to find peace.

Cruel Sister is the fourth book in Grabien's Haunted Ballad series following The Weaver and the Factory Maid, The Famous Flower of Serving Men and most recently, Matty Groves.  Though the main characters continue from book to book and their relationship grows with each entry, the series can be started with any of the books. 

 

Death at Victoria Dock
by Kerry Greenwood
Poisoned Pen Press
Hardcover, 176 pages, $24.95
ISBN: 1590582381
Reviewed by Carl Brookins

In the 1920's all across the world, political experimentation was on the move.  In Australia, young veterans back from a devastating war were trying on new mantles, contributed to by appalling working conditions.  One such political movement which seemed bent on overthrowing the capitalist system in the soonest way possible was the anarchist movement.  Greenwood puts a human face on these thugs and criminals and lets the reader discover there are sympathetic anarchists as well as murderers and thieves in the movement.

Titled and wealthy, and strikingly good-looking to boot, Private Investigator Phryne Fisher is headed home in her racy Hispano-Suiza, a huge and powerful vehicle, when a bullet shatters the vehicle's windscreen.  Understandably upset, Phryne slams on the brakes and is thus able to see a drama played out.  Two men, one repeatedly firing a pistol at her, climb the wall at the Melbourne Gas Works, situated on the Victoria Dock.  Phryne then discovers a third man, grievously wounded, lying on the apron.  He dies in her arms after inconveniently spilling blood on her silk-clad alabaster body.  So here, in just the first couple of pages we learn volumes about this emancipated wealthy young woman, her character, her situation and the basis of this murder mystery.

Author Greenwood's economical mastery of the forms and language of the mystery are all evident in these first pages and throughout the novel.  Our principal character, Phryne Fisher is not unique among female private detectives, nor is this story, which will follow her into some parts of Melbourne life that don't make it into the tourist brochures.  But Greenwood's handling of the character, the clear-eyed, insouciance with which this young woman moves through her privileged life and times is a delight.  One could do far worse than spend many hours in the presence of Phryne Fisher.

How to Seduce a Ghost
by Hope McIntyre
Warner Books
Paperback, 417 pages, $6.99
ISBN: 044661601X
Reviewed by Theodore Feit

Having read the sequel before this, the initial entry into the series, I got the feeling that the main character, Lee Bartholomew, a 40-year-old ghostwriter, was a complete professional in her business life, but a somewhat flighty and mixed-up person in her personal life. After reading this novel, that belief has been confirmed.  In this opening tale, we find her in the midst of an eight-year relationship with Tommy, her long-time boyfriend, but passionately attracted to the husband/manager of her new client, a soap opera star.  Both she and Tommy have affairs, the result of their on-again/off-again association.  Frankly, Lee's love life really doesn't contribute much to the overall story in either of the novels, both of which are, however, interesting.

In Seduce, the mystery begins with the arson murder of a television personality in a house near to the one Lee lives in rent-free in London (it is owned by her parents, who split up in this tale but come together in the next).  Then a small summer home behind Lee's is burned and later the house itself is set on fire with Lee and her client asleep in it.  The client's husband is one of the suspects. (He batters his wife regularly, providing her with a reason to have a book written on the subject of battered wives.)

Well-written, the novel is a little too cutesy for this reviewer when it comes to Lee's personal life.  The mystery in both Seduce and the second in the series, How to Marry a Ghost, are well-plotted and carry the reader forth.  Now, if the conclusion of the next book in the series leads to some maturity in Lee's romantic life, a third story might be even more enjoyable.

Well Bred and Dead: A High Society Mystery
by Catherine O'Connell
Harper Paperbacks
Hardcover, 352 pages, $13.95
ISBN:  0061122157
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

The first page of Well Bred and Dead, Catherine O'Connell's second published novel, had this reader intrigued, describing as it does our protagonist, Pauline Cook, gagged and bound on her bed in the luxurious penthouse apartment on the Gold Coast of Chicago, her captors having left her to die.  Pauline, described as a "devastatingly elegant and wealthy widow'' (although known to very few to be in much more straitened circumstances just lately), can trace her current predicament to her close friendship with Ethan Campbell, a social columnist and author of biographies of famous socialites, and the fact of his shocking death, an apparent suicide.  Pauline was the one who discovered the body and has now had to pay for his funeral when no close relatives can be found.  Pauline soon finds that there was much she didn't know about Ethan, her best friend for over five years, including perhaps his real identify when multiple birth certificates are found among his things.  As Pauline says, it is incredible "how little we know those we think we know best."  The mystery only intensifies as her investigation gleans some further tidbits of information, which only leads to further efforts to get to the truth.

The writing is for the most part light-hearted, witty and fast-paced, the view afforded by the author into the world of the social elite is a wry and interesting one, though it is almost by definition a superficial vista.  Some of the attitudes are mildly offensive, but these are reflective of the times and strata.  And then, of course, we get to the harrowing scene described in the prologue, and its aftermath, and Pauline has to find a way not to become one who is, um, well bred and dead.  A quick and enjoyable read.

Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime
by Robert J. Randisi
Thomas Dunne Books
Hardcover, 276 pages, $23.95
ISBN: 0312338627
Reviewed by Caryn St.Clair

Stepping back to Las Vegas in 1960, Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime will please fans of the Rat Pack immensely.  Randisi has developed the atmosphere so perfectly, that while being pulled into the mystery, the reader can almost hear Sinatra crooning in the background.

Eddie Giannelli, better known as Eddie G, is a pit boss at the Sands Casino. Though he is not "connected" in the Mob sense, he is known to have connections all over Vegas. If a person needs to know something that is going on in town, Eddie G is the one to see. So, in spite of the fact that Eddie G is not a detective, a member of the famed Rat Pack approaches Eddie to find out who and what is behind some threatening letters. Because Eddie feels pressure from his boss and because he is a huge fan of Dean Martin, Eddie, against his better judgment, agrees to look into the matter.

Things quickly turn ugly and the body count grows. Eddie is roughed up as a warning. And the people he is trying to get information from have a nasty habit of turning up dead. Even a body guard brought in from New York can't completely keep Eddie safe. But Eddie stays with the investigation and finally solves the case. 

Randisi has quite successfully blended the real people and fictional characters of this book together in a very believable and entertaining book. The author has obviously researched the era and characters extensively and includes a bibliography at the end for readers who what to read more about the Rat Pack or the golden days of Vegas.  This is the first book in a promising new series and should draw a new audience to Randisi's work.

Homicide 69
by Sam Reaves
Carroll & Graf
Hardcover, 576 pages, $26.95
ISBN: 0786718122
Reviewed by Gloria Feit

On a rainy day in 1969 Chicago, homicide detective Mike Dooley, along with his partner, Pete Olson, are called to the scene of a murder.  They find the naked body of a woman who had been badly beaten, burned, hog-tied, strangled, and left along the riverbank.

A veteran who'd served in the Pacific in WWII, Dooley now worries about his son, serving in Vietnam.  The era of the Black Panthers, Woodstock, the aftermath of the 1968 riots, the Manson murders and the first moon landing is brought vividly to life and perfectly recreated. 

The investigation into the girl's death discloses that she was a former Playboy bunny and mobster's girlfriend, and leads to the possibility of Mafia connections and, this being late '60's Chicago, political corruption.  The corruption takes place on all levels, of course.  In interviewing an employee at a local bar, these exchanges take place:  We're not exactly fond of cops around here."  "And why is that?" Dooley said, knowing the answer. "Well, let's see.  It might be the payoffs.  Yeah, I'd say that's it.  It's the bag full of money we have to give your colleagues every month... I'm a skeptic, that's all.  People with more experience than me have told me it's kind of hard to tell the difference between the cops and the mob sometimes."  Interspersed with the police work are scenes of Mike's domestic life, typical of a household with sullen teenagers and the tension normal when one child is fighting a war overseas, an unpopular war with an uncertain outcome, with constant fear for those at home waiting. 

The book is well crafted.  Dooley is a good cop and a very human protagonist.  The investigation is realistically portrayed, with relentless routines and gradual progress.  And of course other crimes take place that must be dealt with as well. 

This is a long book, but it never feels padded.  It has a mostly unexpected conclusion but one that makes perfect sense.  Homicide 69 is a terrific novel, very well-written, and is recommended.  The book jacket reads A Dooley Crime Novel, and one can therefore hope that it is the beginning of a series.

 

Baked Alaskan
by William Scarborough
iUniverse
Paperback, 284 pages, $17.95
ISBN: 0595391826
Reviewed by Clara Johnston

Settle in, because you are about to take a thrilling ride.  You start in Texas and then travel to a very cold Alaska.  Later, you will go to New York. 

This story begins in Texas where Billy Ray introduces us to his life and the characters in the town.  An expert fishing guide, he has client, Cole Parker, in his bass boat.  This seems like a perfectly lovely and innocent setting; but there is more to it than that.  A former Texas Ranger, Bill Ray has intuition that everything is not as it seems.  A simple fishing trip turns into murder and the beginning of a nonstop adventure.

Before the murder victim dies, Bill Ray receives information from him.  This leads him bound to deliver a message to beautiful Darian.  She looks like the New York model she once was.  A gutsy lady, yes, but vulnerable too.  The interaction between Darian and Billy Ray is clever, fun to read and adds strength to the story.  She updates him on the circumstances of an involved corporate company; much of this is not pretty.  From Texas to Alaska, these two sleuths go.  They leave because it is the right thing to do and also because they want to stay alive.

Just enough humor in the story helps to soften the edginess of this mystery.  Darian calls Billy Ray by his last name (his last name is Dent) because she never could wrap her arms around those long southern double first names.  Humor is an asset because there are actions here that are brutal and grim.  The bad guys have an evil streak and they like to physically hurt people. 

You will experience fast moving adventure with plenty of chase scenes.  Nature plays a major role in Alaska where wild animals are part of the backdrop.  It is bold, beautiful and chilling. 

Just when you have everything figured out, plan to be sucker punched with a surprise.  Hobnob with the good guys, the Russian Mafia and crooked corporate people.  Danger abounds!

The Star
by David Skibbins
ISBN: 0312361939
St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 240 pages, $23.95
Reviewed by Jeffrey Cohen

The third in the entertaining, quirky Warren Ritter series takes the story home to its protagonist in a new way: Warren's daughter—whose existence he discovered only months ago—asks him for help. It seems her abusive husband, a local police officer, has been found shot and killed, and Warren's daughter Fran is now the chief suspect.

Warren, an ex-Weather Underground radical who made millions on Microsoft stock when he was living "off-the-grid," is now a tarot card reader in Berkeley, California, with a wheelchair-bound computer hacker girlfriend, and a sort-of-adopted teenage stepdaughter of sorts... it's complicated, but not confusing. Warren (who hasn't gone by his real name, Richard, in decades) is also suffering from manic depressive disorder, and refers to himself frequently as "crazy." Just in case you thought his life was too simple.

He's good company, and not a bad amateur sleuth, when pressed into service. This caper is like the others in that it traces Warren's moods and his steps toward responsibility with great realism and care, but still manages to find a sense of humor and taut pacing that many traditional mysteries lack.

Along the way, Warren will deal with a good number of "damaged" souls, including a gorgeous woman with one arm, a former radical who has killed people before, a minister with a sordid past and a cop who wants too badly to pin the murder on Fran. And he'll do a bit of babysitting, as Fran—who has inherited Warren's disorder—finds being a mother just a little too demanding, and drops her baby on his doorstep.

But Warren's cadre—his girlfriend Sally, her teenaged charge, a cop who wants to sell bicycles, and others—all manage to function well under pressure, much like Warren himself. They, too, are good company.

 

The Big Boom
by Domenic Stansberry
St. Martin's Minotaur
Hardcover, 264 pages, $23.95
ISBN: 0312324707
Reviewed by Suzanne Epstein

This is the second book featuring Dante Mancuso, a former cop currently working as a private investigator in the heavily Italian North Beach area of San Francisco. Angela Antonelli was a childhood friend, and briefly, a former girlfriend of Dante. He and his boss Jake Cicero have been hired to look into Angie's disappearance. When a woman matching her description is pulled from San Francisco Bay, Dante makes the identification and informs her parents. They initially want him to continue investigating, to discover whether her drowning was accidental, suicide, or murder.

Angie had been working for the head of a booming dot.com business. She had also dated her boss until recently. Many of these businesses were on the brink of financial collapse, and Dante suspects that Angie's knowledge of the company's creative bookkeeping may have led to her untimely demise. Even after her father suspended the investigation, Dante's personal relationship with her kept him pursuing new leads.

Stansberry writes in a lyrical, almost poetic, style. The book feels like classic urban noir, evoking images of the private eyes of the golden age. Dante has his own demons that scream for attention, but his quest for truth keeps him on course. As he moves forward, he also looks back into his own past and his troubled family.

The city of San Francisco is well depicted, with its intermingled ethnic neighborhoods. As the tight-knit Italian community is aging, Chinese families are buying homes and businesses. There is a very realistic human story moving along under the surface of the more obvious crime and detection plot.

If you want to start with the first book in this series, it is Chasing The Dragon. Stansberry has also written several other books.

 

Murder Unleashed
by Elaine Viets
New American Library
Hardcover, 272 pages, $19.95
ISBN: 045121840X
Reviewed by Clara Johnston

Helen Hawthorne works at the Pampered Pet Boutique.  No, it may not have been her first choice of jobs but do note that this series is named Dead End Job Mysteries. 

Keep in mind that she needs to keep a low profile.  Helen's ex-husband and the court continue to look for her and this may be a safe job, she thinks.  Safety is in the eye of the beholder and you will see that this job does not equal protection. 

Conflict is alive in the boutique.  The characters (both the workers and the customers) are sometimes temperamental and eccentric. Preparations for a doggie birthday party begin this story.  These animals will be dressed in their finery and pampered pets receive specialized haircuts and wear chic clothing. 

Imagine Helen's surprise when she delivers one of the cherished dogs to a client and the client is dead. The victim gives everyone a reason to kill her so there are a lot of suspects.  Helen is definitely a prime one and in order to keep her privacy, she knows she needs to do some quick sleuthing.  Added to the murder is a dog kidnapping and the adventure begins.

When Helen meets the police detective, Ted Brogers, she has an instant dislike.  He is definitely short on charm and I agree with her evaluation.  Her intuitive feeling does not go away when she is handcuffed and taken in for questioning. 

Phil, her boyfriend, and her landlady stand in her corner and support her.  Phil even helps her in the investigation.  Episodic events continue to happen throughout the story including blackmail and a nasty Florida hurricane.  Many of the incidents garner a laugh such as an old fashioned food fight.

This is the fifth book in the series. Others include Shop Till You Drop, Murder Between the Covers, Dying to Call You, and Just Murdered.

 

Dead Head
by Allen Wyler
Tor/Forge
Paperback, 352 pages, $7.99
ISBN: 0765355965
Reviewed by Kevin R. Tipple

Following up on his novel Deadly Errors, the author has crafted yet another superb and at times very disturbing medical thriller.  For neurosurgeon Russell Lawton, the conference where he has presented his paper on connecting a robotic hand to the neurons in a monkey's brain by way of on interface between the two has been routine though the material isn't.  If it works, some day paralyzed humans might be able to move their limbs by way of thinking it to happen.  What has been a concept deep in the realm of science fiction is gradually becoming modern reality.

Stopped after his speech by a beautiful woman masquerading as a reporter, he agrees to be interviewed and follows her willingly outside of the Moscone Convention Center.  That will be the last willing thing he does as he is soon grabbed and removed from the street by Islamic terrorists.  Before long, he is in the air in a private jet on his way back to his laboratory at the National Institutes of Health.

With his young daughter a hostage and faced with death, Dr. Russell Lawton has no choice but to cooperate. The terrorists are demanding his help and they are proposing something so unthinkable at every level that Dr. Russell Lawton is revolted to the very core of his being.  Beyond the incredible medical challenges, the very idea they insist will be done raises huge moral and ethical challenges.  And yet, Dr. Lawton has no choice if he wishes to save his life, his daughter's as well as other potential victims.

What follows is an incredible read that propels the reader on an emotional roller coaster.  Dr. Allen Wyler again uses his extensive medical background to bring forth insight into a complex medical problem.  Those very detailed bits of medical information are skillfully woven into the story and do nothing to slow it down.

At the same time, unlike most thrillers, the main characters in this book soon to be released are rich and detailed. Dr. Lawton's emotional agony both in terms of his daughter as well as what he has been asked to do come alive for the reader.  This is also true of other characters unwittingly drawn in such as FBI Special Agent Sandra Phillips who is part of the secondary and independent storyline of the kidnapping of Lawton's daughter.

The result is an excellent fast paced read full of medical information and surgical procedures, action, and deep moral questions. This thriller is not easy to put down once finished and sure to leaven the reader with a lot of imagery and questions about the possible medical break through and its meaning.

 

Murder by Committee

Read past installments and find out more about Murder By Committee

Chapter 30
by Kathleen Tracy

An entertainment journalist for over twenty years, Kathleen Tracy's writing has been featured in many national magazines. She is also the author of over 30 books including The Boy Who Would Be King (Dutton), Don Imus: America's Cowboy (Carroll & Graf) and The Secret Story of Polygamy (Sourcebooks), an investigation into the Utah child abuse trial that shed light on polygamy in modern America. Her biographies of Judy Blume (Greenwood Publishing) and Sacha Baron Cohen (St. Martin's) are due in 2007. Unkindness of Ravens, the first of a new mystery book series featuring gay journalist Samantha Perry and her life partner, was recently released by Paribus Press.

Harper felt herself slowly surfacing out of the darkness, as if trying to shake off the effect of having taken one too many Ambien. Still feeling slightly drugged, she lay perfectly still, in no hurry to open her eyes. Bit by bit she felt her senses kicking in... she could hear the rhythmic tick of a clock and the distant rustling of wind in trees. The bedding beneath her hand was soft and comforting. She sniffed and smelled the sweet scent of fresh cut roses.

The events of the last two days came back to her in a rush and her heart began pounding so she pushed the thoughts away. Eyes still closed, Harper could believe she was in her own bed, waking from a tequila-induced nightmare. But when she finally opened her eyes, it wasn't her bedroom she saw. In fact, it didn't look like any bedroom she had ever seen.

The room was bigger than her entire apartment. Tastefully decorated, it had all the comforts of home—a large plasma television hanging over a stone fireplace, a wet bar in one corner, a large reading chaise in the other next to a built-in book case that looked to get a lot of use.

Harper slowly sat up to take inventory of her body. She stiffly swung her feet to the floor, the movement accompanied by a symphony of aches and pains, the muscles in her back as supple as concrete. She grimly examined her arms and legs, which were a smorgasbord of festively colored bruises. When she gingerly stood up, she was grateful there was no dizziness—just a sudden, urgent SOS from her bladder.

Once relieved—it must have been days since she'd gone to the bathroom—Harper studied her face in the lush bathroom's mirror. Her expression was that of someone with a bad taste in their mouth—for good reason. She was surprised her tongue hadn't sprouted some sort of fungus.

There was a disposable toothbrush next to the sink and she scrubbed until her teeth gleamed and her tongue was several layers of skin thinner. Her clothes had been laundered and were piled neatly on the counter, next to new bottles of bath gel, shampoo and conditioner.

Part of her brain screamed for her to run before someone else with a big gun walked through the door. But the other part begged for a moment of solitude to think. If she was in danger, Harper decided she might as well face it well-groomed. She grabbed the bottles and took a long shower. Feeling more human by the minute, she stood under the spray of water and forced herself to reconstruct the last 48 hours.

So much of it was a jumble. She couldn't be sure how much was real; how much was a dream. What Harper knew for certain was that she was a former cop who had burnt out young and had found refuge and simplicity flying a cargo plane. Her business was mostly law abiding but for the right price, she wasn't above a little larceny as long as the contraband didn't violate her personal code—no guns, no drugs, no humans.

But that was about all she was sure of. Little of what had happened—or the parts she could even remember—made sense. She needed answers. She also needed to get out of the shower before she turned into a wizened prune.

Harper got dressed, dried her hair and made the bed. She was procrastinating. But it was time to face... whatever. She walked slowly to the wood shutter doors spanning the far wall with the trepidation of the doomed first reel victim of a slasher movie. Rays of sunlight streamed through the cracks. She took a deep breath and flung open the two middle doors, wincing at the painful blast of bright sunlight.

She had expected to see an overgrown jungle or a coastline. Instead, she found herself looking out at a desert vista, ringed by majestic mountains rising out of the earth.

"Where the hell am I?"

Her confusion was interrupted by the smell of frying bacon. Her stomach growled loudly, demanding attention.

She tentatively opened the bedroom door and peered out into the upper floor of a huge house. One hallway led to the left, the other straight ahead, toward a stairway. Walking stealthfully, Harper made her way to the stairs. There was nobody in sight but the smell of bacon was stronger. She went downstairs, her body tense with nerves. But the house was completely non-threatening. Expensive art adorned the wall alongside family photos.

Harper stopped and stared at a black and white picture of a stunningly beautiful blonde woman who looked very familiar, standing behind a pretty dark-haired woman, who was glancing up at her with an exasperated expression. The blonde, her arms draped around the other woman's neck, was laughing. The photo conveyed humor and an easy, obvious intimacy.

Harper followed her stomach to the kitchen. Peeking into the diner-sized room she could see a man standing at the stove, cooking. Her turned as she took a hesitant step into the room.

"Well, we were wondering if you were ever going to wake up," Guthrie said with a smile.

Harper stared at him, his face prompting vague recollections of blood and lapping water. "Why did I think you were dead?"

"I almost was. We both were. After your friend Greer went for a nap, Otto forced me to swap clothes with him and took my ID. He was planning on making it look like I'd killed him and tossed him overboard."

"But you two look nothing alike."

"After a week in the ocean, nobody would be able to tell the difference so they'd have to go by the identification they found on the body. And Otto would be free to create a new identity. Fortunately for us, unfortunately for him, he wound up on the business end of his own knife."

"How'd we get off the boat?"

"By the skiff. Then I called in a favor and got us here. I'm hoping it took a while before Greer checked the body too closely. Looking at Otto in that suit, I thought it was me laying there," he said with an involuntary shiver, as he scrambled a half dozen eggs.

"Seems like people are always trying to get rid of you," Harper sighed, sitting at the dining room table.

"I'm like a cat—two down, seven to go."

Outside the window she saw the dark-haired woman from the photograph talking on a cell phone. She looked to be Harper's age and was dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt.

"Where exactly are we?" she asked.

"Palm Springs."

"Why?"

"For information." He brought over two plates of bacon and eggs and sat down across from her. He nodded towards the woman.

"She's a journalist I know. Works the crime beat and has connections everywhere. She lives here with her partner, who also happens to be Mayor. So I asked her to do a little digging."

Harper stared at him. "Remind me why I should believe anything you say?"

"When I think of a reason, you'll be the first to know."

The French door leading outside opened and the dark-haired woman strode in. She introduced herself to Harper and hopped up on the kitchen counter.

"You're in over your head this time, Guthrie."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"The word I get from my DOJ sources is that the chips you've been playing tag with are part of a secret project, code name Anselmo. Apparently, a group of renegade scientists have been conducting experiments at places that don't officially exist and the data is on those chips."

"What kind of experiments?" Harper asked.

"Nobody knows... or is willing to say. But whatever it is, everyone wants it and apparently some are willing to kill for it. The problem is, it's hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys."

"Tell me," Harper muttered, glaring at Guthrie.

"He didn't tell you?" the woman looked amused and shook her head, "Guthrie, Guthrie..." She pulled a small plastic bag from the back pocket of her jeans. In it were the two chips. "We found these when we did your laundry," she said tossing the bag to Harper, who tucked it back in her bra.

"So what am I supposed..."

The woman's cell phone rang and she held her hand up to silence Harper. She listened and hung up with a worried look. "I don't mean to rush you, but apparently my questions have gotten some unwanted attention. You need to get going. Now."

"Go where?" Harper said, shoveling the last of the food in her mouth.

"My partner's arranged for you to use her private jet. You can fly a Cessna Citation XLS+, can't you?"

Harper made a sound that was almost sexual. "You bet I can."

"There's a cab out in front that'll take you to the airfield." She walked them to the front door.

"And Guthrie... I get the exclusive on this when it's over."

Within ten minutes they were standing beside the plane, Harper again making mewing noises.

"Would you cut that out," Guthrie grumbled, as he opened the Cessna's door for her.

"Where are we going exactly?" she demanded before getting in.

"Back to the beginning, to get some answers. Got a better plan?"

"No," she admitted. Harper climbed in the plane, then froze, surprise turning to anger.

"What the hell are you doing here?"