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Library | Call Number | Status |
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Searching... Hardwood Creek Library (Forest Lake) | MYSTERY HOU | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Park Grove Library (Cottage Grove) | MYSTERY HOU | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | MYSTERY HOU | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Stillwater Public Library | MYSTERY HOU | Searching... Unknown |
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Summary
Summary
Murder, She Wrote meets Fargo in the Northwoods of Wisconsin in the nineteenth "gripping, atmospheric, and smart" (T. Jefferson Parker, New York Times bestselling author) installment of the Loon Lake series.
When the bodies of a wealthy Chicago industrialist and his wife are discovered in their summer home at the same time that a local lawyer disappears, life becomes complicated for Loon Lake Chief of Police Lew Ferris.
Relying on the forensic dental expertise of her close friend and acting coroner, Doc Osborne, Lew soon finds the investigations are even more complicated than she thought when a rarely used computer belonging to a local sawmill operation is taken over by foreign hackers. Add to that the family issues facing both Lew and Doc, and this Northwoods summer becomes both hot and dangerous.
Engaging and fast-paced, Dead Big Dawg is a clever mystery perfect for fans of Lee Goldberg and Janet Evanovich .
Author Notes
Victoria Houston lives, works, and fly-fishes in northern Wisconsin. She also hunts grouse with her black lab, Cyber. She is currently plotting her third Loon Lake mystery.
Reviews (2)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Houston's straightforward 19th mystery featuring Loon Lake, Wis., police chief Lewellyn "Lew" Ferris (after 2018's Dead Firefly) opens with the fatal shooting of retired criminal defense lawyer and fervent bird watcher Lillian Curran while observing a great horned owl. This crime is quickly overshadowed when John Powers and his wife, Margo, are found murdered in their vacation home. The Powers' business empire is so important that big city media descend on Loon Lake to cover the story. Then another person dies, leading Lew to ponder whether the murders could be connected. She's assisted by her second-in-command, Todd Donovan, and by her physician neighbor, Paul Osbourn, the town's acting coroner, and together they zero in on the obvious villain. Meanwhile, Lew and company reminisce at length about their childhood and youth, sharing stories of high school rivalries, bridge club snubs, and marriages gone wrong. Fans will enjoy catching up with old friends, but those seeking thrills, chills, or intriguing mysteries will be disappointed. Agent: Nell Pierce, Sterling Lord Literistic. (June)
Library Journal Review
The shooting death of an elderly woman is the first sign of trouble in Loon Lake, WI. Next, police chief Lewellyn Ferris and her friend Dr. Paul Osborne track their grandchildren to a neighboring farm where the FBI has set up a cybersecurity post. With problems involving drunk young people and a burgeoning summer population, Lew's three-member police team rely on help from other forces when a power couple from Chicago are found shot in their home. Then a woman's body is recovered from the water, and Lew can't turn around without another murder occurring. But a neighboring fishing guide starts to connect the dots, and although Lew always has time to teach others about fly-fishing, this character-driven mystery is anything but leisurely paced. There's a strong sense of place in this descriptive story set in a wilderness community dependent on fishing, hunting, and tourism. VERDICT Houston's latest, following Dead Firefly, may appeal to Sean McCafferty's readers, fans of fly-fishing, and wilderness mysteries. At the same time, readers who appreciate Steven F. Havill's tales of close-knit communities may also want to try.--Lesa Holstine, Evansville Vanderburgh P.L., IN
Excerpts
Excerpts
Dead Big Dawg CHAPTER ONE Staring into the eyes of the great horned owl, the old woman died happy. They had been meeting like this for months: in the dark, in secrecy. Watching one another, sometimes watching the creatures moving through the towering pines surrounding them . . . just . . . watching. The owl had seen her head move as the bullet slammed into her brain. Death was painless, even as the brilliance of her mind was extinguished. When the old woman had lain still too long, when her eyes no longer met his, the owl sent the alert. Within seconds the forest surrounding Loon Lake erupted with alarms as owls woke their feathered cousins to pass along the warning. Eight-year-old Cody Amundson, fishing in the dark off his grandfather's dock, paused before casting his lure. The explosion of birdcalls caught him by surprise. Turning toward shore, he was scanning the pine boughs over his head when a scream pierced the air. Throwing his spinning rod into the rowboat moored alongside the dock, Cody ran up the stone stairway leading to his grandfather's house. He banged through the porch door and right into the arms of Dr. Paul Osborne. "Shhhh. Settle down, Cody. It's okay," said Osborne, grasping the trembling boy firmly by the shoulders. "Just a screech owl." "Are you sure, Gramps? That sounds like a real person. Maybe we should call Chief Ferris?" During the same five minutes since the birds had started calling, Ray Pradt had paused to look up from where he was dousing a campfire he had built in hopes of charming his date. "My God, Ray, what is that racket?" asked the young woman, looking up as she opened the screen door to the trailer. A bat swooped and she nearly dropped the bowl of chips and guacamole she was carrying back to the kitchen. Before Ray could answer, a harsh cry echoed through the trees. "What on earth? Who the hell was that?" The girl was happy to close the door behind her. "Boy, is this a fun place." Paraphrasing his neighbor's words to his grandson, Ray assured Paula that a serial killer was not lurking in the dark. "That's an owl, not a human," said Ray, following her into his trailer as the embers died in the fire pit behind him. "And don't you worry--I know how to keep you safe. . . ." "Yeah, right." The girl grinned as she let him wrap his arms around her. Next door, once Cody nodded that he believed his grandfather, Osborne walked the boy back down to the dock to retrieve his fishing rod. "Okay, son? Not afraid anymore?" Osborne kept a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "We don't want your new rod to end up in the lake, so let's put it away in my fish hut where it'll be safe." Cody relaxed as he stepped into the rowboat to retrieve his rod. Any time spent in Grandpa's fish hut was okay with him. Early the next morning before Cody was up, Osborne was enjoying his coffee on the screened-in porch when Ray gave a quick knock on the porch door before walking in, coffee mug in hand. "Morning, Doc. Did you hear that scream last night?" "Scared the living daylights out of Cody." "One more little bunny who won't need a hat," said Ray as he filled his mug from the pot Osborne kept plugged in on the porch. "That wasn't a rabbit, that was a screech owl." "Oh . . . Hmm, wonder what the birds saw. They were pretty excited. . . ." The men sipped their coffee: Osborne on his porch swing, Ray in his favorite chair, and the sun throwing shadows on the dock as early summer infused the lake world with life. Excerpted from Dead Bull Dawg by Victoria Houston All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.