Laura Cardinal is the paradigmatic outsider. As part of the Arizona Department of Public Safety, she is dispatched to small-town locales with resources too meager to investigate major crimes, and personnel untrained in the most basic competencies. That position keeps her treading deftly between her own department's hierarchy and the locals she is assisting. Being too assertive creates resentment; a submissive stance will guarantee failure. Within her own department, she has already committed the faux pas of skipping the “get acquainted” barbecue hosted by the new department head, Lieutenant Galaz, a politically connected bureaucrat who seems interested in micromanaging Laura's case. To the “old boy network” of small-town law enforcement, she is still considered a woman doing a man's job. Unlike her partner, Victor Celaya, she is unencumbered by a family. Victor is constantly irritated by her refusal to cut corners, and her insistence on fastidious evidence recovery protocols that will stand up to court scrutiny. Victor would rather just clear the case and spend more time with his family. Laura's affinity for animals is a stark contrast to her human relationships. By temperament, Laura is extremely territorial, a usually helpful trait that can, however, sometimes make her suspicious of valuable local input. Finally, she sees ghosts – specifically, that of Frank Entwistle, her former mentor.
Laura has been designated lead investigator in the murder of a fourteen year old girl, Jessica Parris, in Bisbee. The details of the case are lurid, and point to a psychotic serial killer. Despite the urgency of the situation, Buddy Holland, the Bisbee detective assigned to work with her seems oddly distant, and Officer Heather Duffy is openly hostile.
The narrative of the plot follows the lines of a procedural. Can they identify other murders that fit the pattern? Was the perpetrator local or from out of town? How did he come to know Jessica Parris? Where was the actual crime scene? That and the sexual nature of the crime seem to indicate a pedestrian thriller. DARKNESS ON THE EDGE OF TOWN, however, is much better than that, mainly due to the complex portrayal of Laura Cardinal. Gradual details about her childhood and a significant traumatic incident resurface during Laura's investigation. Black also captures the scorching heat of the desert. “The heat hit the moment they were through the automatic doors, a hot dry wind seizing the breath from her lips and nostrils. She'd gone from sauna to oven. It seemed to her it got hotter every year, the monsoon seasons of her memory dwindling down to a few thunderstorms, terminal humidity, and a plague of mosquitoes.” Having been to this area, I was particularly impressed by the convincing sense of place the author depicts.
There are numerous problems with this first novel. First, there are way too many characters. In addition to the Bisbee crew and the Department of Public Safety principals, the personnel of several other jurisdictions play fleeting roles. There is a trail of victims, their families and acquaintances, and Laura's own family. The number of characters is overwhelming without a scorecard. Fewer characters with greater depth would have added to the impact of the story. Second, there are clichéd passages like "...his eyes were dead," (when Laura views a suspect's photograph). "She felt it, that tangible truth that occasionally revealed itself at a certain point in a case." Too often, intuitive guesses fill in for psychological plausibility.
Nevertheless, this is a promising series, and after reading the brief excerpt to Black's second book, I remain interested.