In Patterson's Western thriller, a Texas Ranger fights for his life, his freedom, and the town he loves as he investigates his ex-wife's murder. Across the ranch lands and cities of his home state, Rory Yates's discipline and law enforcement skills have carried him far from local highway patrolman to the honorable rank of Texas Ranger. He arrives in his hometown to find a horrifying crime scene and and a scathing accusation: he is named a suspect in the murder of his ex-wife Anne, a devoted teacher whose only controversial act was ending her marriage to a Ranger. In search of the killer, Yates plunges into the inferno of the most twisted and violent minds he's ever encountered, vowing to never surrender. That code just might bring him out alive.
Patterson teams up with Andrew Bourelle, the Albuquerque-based English professor and ex-journalist who 2016 debut novel, "Heavy Metal," won the Autumn House Fiction Prize. How cool is that. Another Albuquerque boy. I was so excited to learn about him.
This “Texas Ranger” is Rory Yates, an ex-highway patrolman in his mid-thirties. He’s also a former high-school quarterback, passable country-western musician and crack shot with a .45 who, at one point, blows away a diamondback who had been sunning itself on his porch.
It’s possible to imagine Patterson and Bourelle checking off pretty much every stereotypical-Texan box they can think of, one by one. That said, the “Texas Ranger” version of the Lone Star State still isn’t terribly far divorced from reality.
A lot of the action takes place at a roadhouse just outside of town called the Pale Horse. Rory’s crusty Ranger boss says things like “busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest.” His parents live on a ranch, and everybody drives pickup trucks.
As a lawman, Rory is something of a loose cannon. “Texas Ranger” begins as he’s been reassigned to the Rio Grande Valley after a questionable shooting near Waco, where he lives in the one-stoplight town of Redbud. But by the time he gets home, Anne, his schoolteacher ex-wife, has been murdered.
But Anne had moved on. This “Texas Ranger” is Rory Yates, an ex-highway patrolman in his mid-thirties. He’s also a former high-school quarterback, passable country-western musician and crack shot with a .45 who, at one point, blows away a diamondback who had been sunning itself on his porch.
It’s possible to imagine Patterson and Bourelle checking off pretty much every stereotypical-Texan box they can think of, one by one. That said, the “Texas Ranger” version of the Lone Star State still isn’t terribly far divorced from reality.
A lot of the action takes place at a roadhouse just outside of town called the Pale Horse. Rory’s crusty Ranger boss says things like “busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.” His parents live on a ranch, and everybody drives pickup trucks.
As a lawman, Rory is something of a loose cannon. “Texas Ranger” begins as he’s been reassigned to the Rio Grande Valley after a questionable shooting near Waco, where he lives in the one-stoplight town of Redbud. But by the time he gets home, Anne, his schoolteacher ex-wife, has been murdered.
But Anne had moved on. When it comes to suspects, Rory only has eyes for her most recent flame Cal Richards, a long-haul trucker and onetime dope dealer whom Rory has already arrested twice. The by-the-book detective assigned to the case warns him to stay out of it, but you know how that sort of thing goes.
Soon enough Rory is the detective’s No. 1 suspect. He instigates a brawl with Cal at Anne’s funeral and is so convinced that Cal is the killer — even chasing him all the way to New Jersey — that the novel’s central question becomes whether Rory’s obsession with Cal will blind him to the other possible killers until it’s too late.
As a purely enjoyable mystery, “Texas Ranger” isn’t half bad. Patterson and Bourelle’s rapid-fire chapters squeeze in plenty of dishy small-town drama on top of the murder case: Rory’s dad reveals he has cancer; one of his brothers, a new father, spends a little too much time at the Pale Horse; and two women Rory had previously dated slip back into his life almost right away. At Anne’s funeral, no less.
But starting with Part 2, Patterson and Bourelle alternate Rory’s narration with chapters that highlight Cal’s point of view. Widening the perspective adds real depth to Cal’s character (a rarity in the novel) and lends Rory’s Ahab-like efforts to prove his trucker nemesis is a murderer a touch of tragic irony. It also turns the Garth Brooks song “Callin’ Baton Rouge” into a significant plot point.
By this point, the story is picking up speed like a semi barreling down the Interstate. Patterson and Bourelle have planted enough clues that when Anne’s killer is revealed, it makes complete sense but still comes as something of a surprise. Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have been.
When it comes to suspects, Rory only has eyes for his most recent flame Cal Richards, a long-haul trucker and one time dope dealer whom Rory has already arrested twice. The by-the-book detective assigned to the case warns him to stay out of it, but you know how that sort of thing goes.
Soon enough Rory is the detective’s No. 1 suspect. He instigates a brawl with Cal at Anne’s funeral and is so convinced that Cal is the killer — even chasing him all the way to New Jersey — that the novel’s central question becomes whether Rory’s obsession with Cal will blind him to the other possible killers until it’s too late.
And for some reason, the authors decided to tell Rory’s story in the first-person present tense — “I drive,” “I shoot,” “I laugh,” etc. — which takes some getting used to. Real lawmen don’t write like that in their notebooks, do they?
But starting with Part 2, Patterson and Bourelle alternate Rory’s narration with chapters that highlight Cal’s point of view. Widening the perspective adds real depth to Cal’s character (a rarity in the novel) and lends Rory’s Ahab-like efforts to prove his trucker nemesis is a murderer a touch of tragic irony. It also turns the Garth Brooks song “Callin’ Baton Rouge” into a significant plot point.
This “Texas Ranger” is Rory Yates, an ex-highway patrolman in his mid-thirties. He’s also a former high-school quarterback, passable country-western musician and crack shot with a .45 who, at one point, blows away a diamondback who had been sunning itself on his porch.
It’s possible to imagine Patterson and Bourelle checking off pretty much every stereotypical-Texan box they can think of, one by one. That said, the “Texas Ranger” version of the Lone Star State still isn’t terribly far divorced from reality.
A lot of the action takes place at a roadhouse just outside of town called the Pale Horse. Rory’s crusty Ranger boss says things like “busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.” His parents live on a ranch, and everybody drives pickup trucks.
As a lawman, Rory is something of a loose cannon. “Texas Ranger” begins as he’s been reassigned to the Rio Grande Valley after a questionable shooting near Waco, where he lives in the one-stoplight town of Redbud. But by the time he gets home, Anne, his schoolteacher ex-wife, has been murdered.
Their split was amicable, but not at first. Rory came to realize, to his everlasting regret, that he had been in fact married to his badge. (Stop me if you’ve heard that one before, too.)
But Anne had moved on. When it comes to suspects, Rory only has eyes for her most recent flame Cal Richards, a long-haul trucker and one time dope dealer whom Rory has already arrested twice. The by-the-book detective assigned to the case warns him to stay out of it, but you know how that sort of thing goes.
Soon enough Rory is the detective’s No. 1 suspect. He instigates a brawl with Cal at Anne’s funeral and is so convinced that Cal is the killer — even chasing him all the way to New Jersey — that the novel’s central question becomes whether Rory’s obsession with Cal will blind him to the other possible killers until it’s too late.
As a purely disposable mystery, “Texas Ranger” isn’t half bad. Patterson and Bourelle’s rapid-fire chapters squeeze in plenty of dishy small-town drama on top of the murder case: Rory’s dad reveals he has cancer; one of his brothers, a new father, spends a little too much time at the Pale Horse; and two women Rory had previously dated slip back into his life almost right away. At Anne’s funeral, no less.
And for some reason, the authors decided to tell Rory’s story in the first-person present tense — “I drive,” “I shoot,” “I laugh,” etc. — which takes some getting used to. Real lawmen don’t write like that in their notebooks, do they?
But that’s the mark of an effective mystery. The references to Shiner Bock and Whataburger in “Texas Ranger” might come off a little arbitrary, but so what? Most fans of Patterson’s easy-reading, high-tension thrillers likely won’t raise their hackles at such trivial matters.
Very entertaining book, highly recommend.