Murder at Red Rook Ranch

by Dorothy Tell

Murder at Red Rook Ranch [paperback] Tell, Dorothy [Aug 01, 1990]

Genres: Mystery

200 pages, Paperback

First published August 1, 1990

Reviews

[Megan]

Poppy Dillworth is a 65-year-old retiree from the Dallas Sheriff’s Department. But she retired as a clerk, not a police officer—and the fact that, under the good-old-boy system that existed at the time (and that probably still exists), she never got the chance to put her considerable mind into doing more than just recording cases. Now, as a fledgling P.I., she finally has her chance to solve one. And she takes advantage of it with a passion.

Murder at Red Rook Ranch is not a seminal book, but it is important for several reasons. First of all, it deals with the plight of aging lesbians, like Poppy, who are left alone in their old age. It also tackles the subject of other women who approach their declining years realizing that they have lived their lives in this patriarchal society having never questioned their own sexuality. The budding relationship between Poppy and Belle Stoner, the aunt of one of the murder suspects, deals with both of these questions. It is done somewhat better by Penny Mickelbury, another early Naiad author, in her poignant Love Notes, but both are important.

Poppy is kind of a weird character. Out to prove that she can do what she always thought she could, she speaks kind of like Foghoun Leghorn and is very compartmentalized in her thinking, able to put each clue together with others to form a picture. My only complaint is not really with her but with the author, who chose to internalize Poppy's thoughts verbatim rather than using free and direct discourse. Poppy herself calls it “her irreverent inner voice,” and it goes something like this: "Yep, Dillworth—looks like some happy-ever-after goin on here.” She also deprecatingly refers to herself as Wondercrone, or WC. There are better ways to internalize.

Poppy’s partner in investigation, Marcie June, is an ex-missionary she met in Tell’s previous book, Wilderness Trek. A silent third member of there organization is a mysterious woman named T.J., who can track down just about any information they can think up—similar to Helen Keremos’ friend in the Eve Zaremba mysteries. Poppy is a lesbian, T.J. is a lesbian, Poppy’s clients are all lesbians—even two lifelong straight women become lesbians as the book progresses. Is this totally believable? Well, probably not. But it provides another reason that this—along with Penny Mickelbury’s books and several of Katherine V. Forrest’s—especially Murder at the Nightwood Bar—is an important book. Back in the 1980s and early 1990s there was a dearth of lesbian literature. Books like these provided at least a glimmer that lesbian life existed elsewhere and was thriving and was valued and could be wonderful. So we can easily forgive some of the books where it seems that almost every character is lesbian.

The actual murder mystery in this book is not just tacked on. It is well plotted, many faceted, and intelligently solved.—three things that most murder mysteries do poorly. It is an easy, absorbing read. Treat yourself.

Note: This review is included in my book The Art of the Lesbian Mystery Novel, along with information on over 930 other lesbian mysteries by over 310 authors.

[Wayne Spiceland · Rating 2 out of 5]

An okay mystery, if a little far-fetched. The writing's okay, but the mountain of colloquialisms becomes extremely annoying, instead of adding local color and realism; likewise, for all Poppy's comments to herself. "Wondercrone,"indeed. Likable enough characters, but Violet is just too "out there." Almost no character development. I sort of liked it, but doubt I'll bother with the sequel.