Killer RV by E. H. Obey
Killer RV is not the first book to tackle the subject matter at the core of this story, but it’s also not the worst. What would you do if you were diagnosed with terminal cancer and had only months to live? If you have at least a momentary urge to suggest that you might hunt down and torture and/or kill sex offenders–first of all, you’re not alone, but secondly, this book is for you. I suppose you’ve guessed what this one’s about.
Delilah is a bored housewife/music producer who happens to notice a new RV parked in her neighborhood, and she decides she wants to be a friendly neighbor. This is how she meets Peggy and also how her life takes a turn she couldn’t have anticipated. Peggy is dying, and she has a bucket list she wants to fulfill before the cancer takes her down…but we don’t learn what the items on that list happen to be until a little further into the story. Initially, it’s mostly focused on Delilah–her marriage and her burgeoning friendship with the mercurial Peggy. It isn’t until after Chekhov’s epilepsy makes an appearance, that Delilah becomes an integral component in Peggy’s mission. You’ll understand why I say that if you read the book.
Once things start going down the violent path, they never really stop until the book concludes. We’re introduced to a world where sexual predators of all stripes lurk wherever one chooses to look…and it’s a veritable buffet of monsters just waiting to be tossed into the bucket.
I have a certain sentimental connection with this story, in that a significant portion of it takes place in South Dakota, where I spent most of my life…and most of that portion of the narrative is in the Black Hills and Badlands region that I called home for most of my 45 years. The seemingly neverending path that I-90 carves across the state, through Wyoming, and into Montana is one I’m intimately familiar with–so I could visualize a lot of the surroundings into which the characters were placed.
It’s a short read and well-paced…so you don’t have much excuse to avoid it.
