Overall, I like this series. The problem, of course, is that the protagonist is a racist, whether she wants to admit it or not. More specifically, she is a white supremacist, taking care to reassure white southern readers that while the two Black employees at her mother's real estate firm were employed there, the woman, Debbie, knew how to be seen and not heard in a white space. There's also the description of this woman as wearing corn rows with colorful beads on the ends.
Let me tell you as a Black woman that the vast majority of us, even in the 90s, did not wear that style, as those were stiles children wore. More importantly, that the author feels the need to go into details about Debbie's hair indicates a need to illustrate (literally and figuratively) that she is the "other" in the room. Why not just describe her as a Black woman and leave it at that.
Also, why describe her as a quiet woman that could type well? It reads like so many racist texts read, as if the racist is struggling to find qualities that justify a Black person's presence in a professional and white dominated space.
Harris's description of this character is especially problematic, as it puts me in the mind of how someone would describe a child or diversity hire who is only minimally qualified to do something other than domestic, janitorial, or food service work.
She also notes that unlike the others, she has not bothered to get to know either of these Black employees.
The Black male, of course, is a suspect in the murder and is described as "bitter" over having been targeted by police.
Later on, the narrator/protagonist expresses discomfort with working with the Black male. She tries to gloss over her fear of this Black man by noting that she doesn't "think" her reluctance is because of his being Black and male, but the lack of certainty is as clear as it is problematic.
And just in case you want to write that off as generally harmless, Harris takes care to solidify things when Teagarden waltzes uninvited into this man’s office without knocking and interrogates him about his whereabouts in the wake of another white woman’s murder. That he had already been cleared by a racist police force is of no consequence to Ms. Teagarden, because as a sketchy Black man who makes her uncomfortable, he must be questioned.
Teagarden, through Harris, later points out how the Black real estate agent stuck out at the church like a "chocolate drop on a wedding cake." Why is this necessary to point out?
The other question is, is this the first time Teagarden, through Harris, has taken special care to note the presence of a token Black while assuring white audiences that this person is only a token and "not like us," as Kendrick Lamar would say? The answer is no. In Real murders, she notes that the sole Black member of her true crime book club is, in fact, the sole Black member, going on to imply that his position in the group was tentative, at best.
She also notes in a previous book that while she's been to every church in town, she has avoided the Black churches. Again, this detail is unnecessary unless she intends to assure white readers that she draws the line at visiting nonwhite spaces.
Obviously, many would argue that a woman born and raised in the South would feel a certain way about Black folks, but I have never bought that excuse. Millions of people born and raised in the rural south don't grow up to be garbage people who regard Black folks with suspicion, emphasize their otherness, or note their silence in white spaces as points in their favor.
Why am I harping on this? Well, I am a Black woman trying to enjoy a series that is apparently intent on othering Black folks as a matter of course.
Will I continue? I'm not sure.
What I can say
at this moment is that right now, curiosity about who done it has me tolerating Harriss and Teagarden's intolerance, but just barely.