THE RIVER VIEW

To the relief of Jules Clement fans, the former sheriff and his beloved Caroline have returned to Blue Deer, Montana, in 1997, following a year of travel, in this first installment of Harrison’s series since Blue Deer Thaw (2000).

Caroline is back working part-time in the Absaroka County sheriff’s department, but Jules has sworn off law enforcement and juggles jobs as an archeologist and private detective. About to build their dream house along the river, they have a 10-month-old baby whose constant physical presence becomes the novel’s symbol of hardy innocence. Domestic calm does not preclude comic, homicidal mayhem, though. A seemingly inconsequential death shows up on the first page, and soon Absaroka County is awash in questionable suicides, fatal accidents, mysterious murders, deadly family feuds, equally deadly land disputes, and random body parts. Responding to a request from his mother, Jules begins investigating the details surrounding the death of his father, Ansel, a popular sheriff gunned down while giving a routine speeding ticket more than 25 years ago. Soon, Jules senses friends are keeping secrets from him. Meanwhile, because Jules and Caroline keep their professional lives separate and don’t always fully communicate—“the mysteries of cohabitation” are a definite theme here—they miss some obvious connections among the myriad plotlines. Aside from Ansel’s killing, these involve ancient gravesites interfering with a proposed right of way, the complicated ownership of a potentially valuable ghost town, the murder of an unpopular retired priest, and a missing acting sheriff. Expect the usual host of darkly colorful local characters, plus some shadowy Russians passing through. Characters and crimes come so fast and furiously that they clog up the first third of the book. Once the novel relaxes, patterns start to emerge. That the villain is obvious midway through doesn’t matter. What’s riveting is the ethical conflict Jules unearths: protecting (or surviving) the people you love versus defending justice.

Serious issues here, but they take a back seat to Harrison’s sharp, bordering-on-absurdist humor.