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before, FBI men mostly, but their demeanors had changed, the dolor of the Mursult deaths dissipated in the light of day, replaced by fresh hair gel and changed clothes, Styrofoam cups of coffee, doughnuts from white boxes on the back table. Someone waved to catch her attention, a man with sandy blond hair, his jaw shaded by stubble that prefaced a beard. He had a warm smile, Moss thought, a smile that softened his otherwise rugged features. Bright powder-blue eyes—hooded eyes, thoughtful. “Are you Special Agent Moss?” he asked. “Philip Nestor. We spoke on the phone last night.”
A cross between science fiction and police procedural should not work and stay true to both genres. Yet here, in The Gone World, it does. The time travel element is not a gimmick but integral to the plot and the charcters. The investigation is the same way too. A very worthy read.
