Novels No. 105

Karin Slaughter. We Are All Guilty Here. USA: William Morrow Large Print. 2025.

A police procedural of painstaking detail, the lengthy novel centres on the small town of North Falls where two teenage girls have been abducted. Statistically, finding them fast is the only way they might still be alive. Sheriff Gerald Clifton’s brightest deputy is his daughter Emmy, whose best friend is Hannah, mother of missing Madison. The second girl missing is Cheyenne; the two have been inseparable pals. Emmy’s guilt over having brushed off Madison earlier that evening drives her to reckless actions in the search. Hannah blames her for the missed opportunity to talk with Maddy that – possibly – could have forestalled the later kidnapping. Their friendship is over even though Emmy pulls some heroics in locating the girls, and perpetrator Adam Huntsinger faces life in prison.

Suddenly, hello: it’s twelve years later. Huntsinger is released on bail when new evidence shows that he was busy attacking a woman miles away on the night that Maddy and Cheyenne disappeared. Nevertheless Emmy is convinced Huntsinger abducted them. Her life has changed—she’s divorced; father Gerald at ninety-plus is still sheriff, but urging Emmy to run for election; son Cole is a newbie deputy; and her mother Myrna is deep in dementia. Soon after Huntsinger’s release, young Paisley Walker disappears from where her trashed bicycle was found; it feels like history repeating itself. Emmy’s stress level is compounded when her father is shot to death and she becomes acting sheriff to collaborate with the FBI. The dramatic entrance of Dr. Jude Archer to the case throws her off-kilter.

The deeper into the story one goes, the more dysfunctional the Clifton family looks. Emmy’s inability to express emotions causes much of the suspense, as the search for Paisley goes on. Caveats: the author’s habit of delaying exposition of non-intuitive past events can be irritating; of the many twists and turns, a final surprise is one too many, IMO. But deconstructing the crimes and Slaughter’s deft psychological insight make the novel completely absorbing.

So many potential quotes in over 700 pages (large print)!

▪ “They were only popular because people were afraid of crossing them, and now that they’re gone, it’s like nobody remembers how cruel they are.” (111)

▪ “I want you out of here. Don’t call me. Don’t email me. Don’t text me. Don’t try to talk to me. Don’t even send me a goddam letter.” (131)

▪ “You recruited Cheyenne and Madison when they were ninth graders.” (181)

▪ She dove into the deep end of the pond, slicing under the surface like a knife. (247)

▪ Her body was turning against her, trying to push out the grief that she kept trying to swallow back down. (333)

▪ “Eventually, they’re gonna find a witness who’ll testify that she was touching the gun when it went off.” (342)

▪ “A man has to prove himself once. A woman has to prove herself every day.” (373)

▪ “You told Dad you wouldn’t step foot back in town until he was dead. Is this your victory lap?” (436)

Kathy Reichs. Fire and Bones. Toronto: Simon & Schuster Canada, 2024.

It’s been an eon since I read a novel based on Dr Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist. On the eve of the Memorial Day weekend, Tempe allows her daughter’s friend, up-and-coming journalist Ivy Doyle, to interview her about fire fatalities. Ivy’s online piece triggers Dr Jada Thacker to beg for Tempe’s help with recovery of victims in a disastrous DC fire. There goes Tempe’s weekend plan to spend it with her partner, Andrew Ryan. At the fire scene, she meets Capt. Hickey who directed the operation on the blazing old Victorian structure, and surly arson inspector, Sgt Burgos. Four bodies (i.e. what’s left of the charred remains) are found as expected. But a hidden sub-cellar is revealed, unaffected by the fire, where a small woman’s murdered body is concealed in a burlap bag. No one seems interested in a cold case from the 1940s except Tempe, who stays on in DC as Ivy’s guest—Ivy who is relentlessly pursuing the fire story.

Violent Crimes Detective Deery is in charge of the aftermath, especially when a second fire breaks out nearby. Tempe gets history and architecture lessons on Washington’s Foggy Bottom area as Ivy searches for ownership of the two properties. With Ivy’s boyfriend Ben Zanetti they discuss theories of cause and motive for the fires; Deery disdains Tempe’s efforts at investigating until she’s proven on the right track. But someone is warning Tempe off, someone who scares her. A smattering of genetic genealogy is offered to clarify an extended family of suspects. Real danger aside, Ivy provides a superb Thai chef and the dialogue with a range of characters is great fun.

In spite of some macabre burnt-body descriptions, the novel has charm due to the warmth and wit of Tempe herself. Some of her (mostly) private thoughts are worth repeating:

▪ To say Ivy Doyle was charismatic would be like saying the Atlantic Ocean was damp. (10)

▪ I awoke with my heart busting dance moves in my chest. (141)

▪ “Burgos has an ego the size of a container ship.” (149)

▪ Apparently, we’d be doing some surveillance before approaching the Stoll brothers. An activity as exciting as watching dust settle. (192)

▪ A shapeless apricot housecoat draped her large frame, flattering as a hospital gown on a corpse. (219)

▪ The tension in the room was thick enough to roast in a pan. (226)

Other bits

▪ “I know this fire isn’t the story of the century, but scoring an on-air interview with a celebrity scientist will improve my visibility.” (10)

▪ “But this is so simple.” Spreading her impeccably manicured hands. “You must stay with me.” (38)

▪ Had she offended someone? Seemed unlikely, the kid was Canadian. (106)

▪ Besides the heart-stopping good looks, the man had the warmth of an old parish priest, and the manners of a royal at court. An extremely winning trifecta. (136)

▪ “Oh, my God. Are you a fan of The Oak Ridge Boys?” (166)

▪ “You do understand that you’re not a cop?” (187)

▪ Ordering me to back off from my investigation? My investigation of what? The Foggy Bottom property? The four fire victims? The subcellar lady in the burlap bag? (212)

▪ It was as if a spigot had suddenly been turned. The spike from rational to manic was shocking. And terrifying. (227)