Review: "It's Not Her," Mary Kubica

Mary Kubica has done it this time. She’s filled an entire book with unlikable characters.

I didn’t think I could finish—never mind enjoy—such a novel. However, I decided to heed the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.”

Why couldn’t I read a book with an abysmal setting? Plus, I don’t remember the characters eating much more than cereal. Oh, wait—they drank some beer. I love an exciting location and evocative food descriptions, but there was none of that here.

So what did I get out of this book?

A great story.

And I learned that nasty characters can sustain my interest.

Courtney Gray tells the story in alternating chapters with her niece, Reese. Courtney, a preschool teacher, is kind, intrepid, and fiercely protective of her family. But even she has made an unfortunate mistake in the past—one that undoubtedly plays into her family’s tragic predicament.

Courtney, her husband Elliott, and daughter Cass have joined Courtney’s brother’s family at a rundown resort camp on a northern Wisconsin lake. Nolan Crane, an unemployed software engineer, doesn’t have much to say—perhaps because his wife Emily is such a control freak. Their daughter Reese, seventeen, seems to simmer with anger.

Then there’s fourteen-year-old Wyatt Crane, a baseball star and the apple of his mother’s eye. Unfortunately, he’s also a gambler, thief, and blackmailer. Mae Crane, only ten, is Cass’s best friend. You might assume the younger girls are innocents—but you’d be wrong.

After a sleepover with Cass, Mae heads back to her family’s cabin. Minutes later she returns to the Grays’, covered in blood and unable to explain what has happened.

Elliott is out fishing, but Courtney rushes to the Cranes’ cabin and finds Nolan and Emily brutally murdered. Wyatt eventually appears, claiming he slept through the attack after his mother gave him a Benadryl the night before. Reese, however, is nowhere to be found.

Courtney’s narrative follows the investigation as Detective Evans arrives at the scene. But Courtney is determined to find Reese herself. Meanwhile, Reese’s chapters recount her relationship with Daniel Clarke, a young camp employee whose influence on her grows increasingly dark. Reese is also grieving the loss of her once-close friendship with Skylar back home—a rupture she herself set in motion.

Reese suggests Elliott may have behaved inappropriately toward her. Courtney begins to question her husband’s fishing alibi. Emily had wanted to speak to Elliott about something—but what? Elliott claims he can’t remember.

Hovering over everything is the disappearance of a young girl several years earlier. Could Reese’s disappearance be connected? Or did Reese kill her parents and run?

Tensions mount as Courtney throws caution aside to find her niece—and the killer. I found myself marveling at the characters’ perspicacity as the pages turned.

Sometimes, it really is all about the story.

Review: "The Storm," Rachel Hawkins

Geneva Collins never intended to return to St. Medard’s Bay, Alabama. But her widowed mother is slipping into dementia, and someone has to run her family’s Rosalie Inn—a Gulf Coast landmark that has somehow survived  hurricane after hurricane.

Geneva herself, however, feels far less sturdy. Her boyfriend—once enthusiastic about innkeeping—has fled. Competing with Vrbo and Airbnb is a challenge. Her mother, Ellen, no longer recognizes her. The Rosalie offers a breathtaking Gulf view, but the weight of responsibility presses hard.

Then an interesting reservation request arrives. August Fletcher, a writer researching St. Medard’s most infamous murder, wants an extended stay—and is willing to pay handsomely for it. During Hurricane Marie in 1984, beautiful, wild nineteen-year-old Lo Bailey was accused of killing Landon Fitzhugh, a married man from a powerful political family. The case roiled the town.

Geneva is thrilled—she needs the business—until August arrives with Lo Bailey herself in tow.

Now sixty, Lo remains magnetic: charming, sharp, unapologetic. But she is not welcome in St. Medard’s. Geneva is drawn to her, yet senses deep tensions between Lo and Edie, Geneva’s assistant at the inn. Meanwhile, Geneva finds herself increasingly captivated by August. Hoping to help his research, she shares a box of old newspaper clippings her mother saved from the case—only to uncover secrets that complicate everything. Lo, it seems, is only part of the story.

As a new hurricane—Lizzie—approaches, the narrative ticks down to landfall. Geneva’s voice anchors the story, but August, Lo, Ellen, and even Landon speak as well, alongside archival articles that deepen the mystery. The layered structure mirrors the gathering storm, both meteorological and emotional.

Geneva is a grounded, relatable protagonist, and Lo is as flamboyant and compelling as a suspected murderer can be. The Rosalie Inn carries its own mystique, and hurricane-battered St. Medard’s is a vivid, atmospheric setting.

The Storm may be Rachel Hawkins’ strongest novel yet—blending suspense, layered perspectives, and twist after twist into a story where not just one, but multiple storms threaten to make landfall.

Review: "Mrs. Christie at the Mystery Guild Library," Chapman

Victoria “Tory” Van Dyne enjoys her life as a book conservator at the Mystery Guild Library in Manhattan. Her grandmother left the townhouse to the library, reserving the top two floors for Tory’s cozy apartment, complete with a view of Washington Square.

True, she’s something of a recluse (she survived a traumatic event revealed only toward the end of the book), and her wealthy, high-society family can be exhausting. But she has good friends in her colleague, librarian Adrian, and her cousin Nic, who talks like a Valley Girl but has a genuinely kind heart.

Tory also inherited a closet full of very cool couture items — pieces she could never afford on a conservator’s salary, especially since her father lost his share of the family fortune.

And then there is the library’s showpiece: a replica of Agatha Christie’s study at Greenway, her summer home in Devon.

The icing on the cake comes when Tory walks into this special room and finds a woman “wearing well-polished brogues, sensible tweeds, five strands of big fat pearls and a hat like a deflated soufflé.” The woman identifies herself as Agatha Christie.

Moreover, she’s there to solve a murder.

An attempted killing quickly presents itself. Someone has poisoned Bertram, the pug belonging to Nic’s agent, Howard. Bertie survives, and Mrs. Christie helps unravel what happened. But soon Howard is pushed under a subway train…

Tory, Adrian, and Nic — with assistance from Mrs. Christie, who appears in the library when she feels like it (usually at opportune moments) — begin investigating. Naturally, the police get involved, particularly Detective Sebastian Mendez-Cruz, quickly dubbed “the hot detective.” Tory is intrigued. But is the detective dazzled by her beautiful — if somewhat spacy — cousin?

The group is joined by a young Irish girl, Mairaid, whose father is teaching at nearby New York University. Interested in book conservation, she eagerly takes notes at meetings of what she has dubbed “Agatha Incorporated.” She also owns a Yorkie named Tony — just like the real Mrs. Christie once did.

Hmm. The real Mrs. Christie. In life, Agatha was technically Mrs. Mallowan, and that is how Tory introduces her. Because she is not entirely certain whether “Mrs. Christie” is an eccentric impostor — or the Queen of Crime herself, visiting from the afterlife.

A second murder and another attempted homicide keep Agatha Inc. — along with the hot detective — moving briskly forward.

This book is a great deal of fun and a joy for Christie fans. Each chapter opens with a quotation from one of Christie’s works. “I admit,” says Arthur Hastings, “that a second murder in a book often cheers things up.” (The A.B.C. Murders) Tory, Adrian, and of course, Mrs. Christie frequently trade apt lines from the oeuvre as well. Poison — Christie’s favorite fictional murder weapon — features prominently.

The literary milieu adds further pleasure. Adrian and Tory discuss CrimeReads articles. A gala at the New York Public Library plays a major role. A subplot explores the rare book world.

My one quibble is that I finished the novel still unclear about what, exactly, the Mystery Guild Library is meant to be. There is, of course, the Mystery Guild mail-order book club for thriller fans (I own several vintage copies myself), but this fictional institution does not seem directly connected. Perhaps that mystery will be addressed in a sequel. If so, I’ll gladly return — because spending time in this literary Manhattan townhouse, with a spectral master of misdirection on the case, is a thoroughly entertaining prospect.

Review: “The List of Suspicious Things,” Jennie Godfrey

How can a novel in which the Yorkshire Ripper looms be so warm and heartfelt?

Yet The List of Suspicious Things is exactly that.

It is 1980. Twelve-year-old Miv lives in a mill town in Yorkshire. Margaret Thatcher is prime minister. The mills are closing. The economy is bleak. And someone is killing women in her county.

At home, Miv’s mother has suffered a nervous breakdown. Aunty Jean — her father’s brisk, practical sister — runs the household while Austin, Miv’s dad, wonders whether moving away might help his wife recover.

The idea terrifies Miv. How could she leave her best friend, Sharon? In the logic of a determined twelve-year-old, there is only one solution: if they can catch the Ripper, her family won’t have to move.

The girls begin compiling a list of “suspicious” people in their neighborhood. Miv keeps meticulous notes. They start with Omar Bashir, a Pakistani immigrant who runs the corner shop, but soon form a friendship with him and his son, Ishquiel. Their suspicions widen to include Arthur, a lonely widower, and his daughter Helen — a librarian. “Uncle” Raymond from church makes the list, as does one of their teachers. Even Miv’s father is not exempt.

What begins as childish sleuthing slowly becomes something more complicated. The girls uncover secrets. They make unlikely friendships. They also wander into places they shouldn’t — including an abandoned factory — and attract the attention—and anger — of two classmates dabbling in National Front ideology.

Tragedy strikes more than once. But at its heart, this novel is not about the Ripper. It is about girlhood — about friendship, loyalty, prejudice, and a child’s fierce hope that she can somehow set a broken world right. It is about how we are all always learning how the world works.

By the end of the book, the Yorkshire Ripper — Peter Sutcliffe — is arrested during a routine traffic stop. He had murdered thirteen women and attacked seven others. The people of Yorkshire breathe sighs of relief and move on. As does Miv.

She is thirteen by the end of the book. She has endured loss. She has learned hard truths about judging people, about kindness, and about who deserves to be feared. But she has also grown braver and more certain of herself. The reader has rooted for her every step of the way.