This highly entertaining noir novel verges on--but never quite achieves--greatness. In The Accounting, Lashner takes a well-worn noir plot (protagonist's past unexpectedly and brutally catches up with him) and enlivens the story through the funny and heartbreaking narration of the hero, JJ Moretti. This mortgage broker lives in some style in an idyllic Virginia suburb, but has lost his job, lost his connection to his daughter and son, and is about to lose his marriage. The fast-paced plot is set in motion in the opening chapters of the book, when Moretti arrives in Las Vegas to check on a friend (and co-conspirator from is youth). In these chapters, you see Lashner's strength and imagination as a writer. He has a knack for capturing a sense of place and time, of conveying the darkness and absurdity of the suburban American landscape during the financial crisis/housing crash, from Las Vegas to Philadelphia to Virginia to Florida. For example, he writes, "The residential parts of Vegas are lousy with walls. Every development is surrounded, every backyard. If Robert Frost had ever seen Vegas he would have had a breakdown." Those two sentence capture Lashner's delicate balance of the pathetic elements of his story: first, there is the genuine pathos, the hero's musings on the ugliness of Las Vegas' suburbia; second, there is the black humor, the attempt to live with this pathos by making light of it. The juxtaposition of Robert Frost, poet of the farms and woods of New England, with the suburban blight of Vegas is hilarious and effective. He probably would have had a breakdown. His characters are morally and spiritually impoverished, though not poor. In this regard, The Accounting has something in common with Scott Smith's classic, A Simple Plan, another noir novel set in the darkest heart of suburbia. Lashner conveys much more humor in this book (I don't recall laughing at all while reading Smith's novel), and his villains are never entirely villainous. But it does not ever rise to the level (or descend to the depths of evil) of Smith's work.
The novel suffers from frequent and jarring variations in tone. The Accounting's characters occasionally speak as though they are giving some perverse half-time speech, and the protagonist's philosophical musings can be tedious and out of place. Lashner also makes some odd choices about the details of the narrative. For example, he frequently mentions his wife's SUV by its make and/or model ("Lexus RX10" or just "RX10"). Details like that should convey something specific and meaningful. A suburban woman driving an SUV is a reasonable detail--identifying a cliche. But getting more detailed than that--worse, repeating the detail--interrupts the flow of the prose.
If Lashner were not such a good writer, I would not mention these things. But he writes some passages of brilliance, insight, and humor--comparing a character's teeth bouncing across the pavement to a roll of yahtzee, for example. This could have been a great book. It's merely good.