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Most people go on vacation to relax -- or at the very least sightsee. But Lucy Stone has other ideas. When she leaves Tinkers Cove, Maine for The Big Apple, it's to track down her childhood bestie Beth's killer. Which means stalking -- um, interviewing -- Beth's four ex-husbands, a motley crew that includes a crooked tycoon, a gang-member-turned-artist, a handsy chiropractor, and a cult leader. In between narrow escapes, Lucy unplugs in her Airbnb studio with a Lean Cuisine from the corner bodega. Well, except for the night she steps out of the shower to find a stranger hovering over her suitcase.
Depressing -- not to mention scary -- isn't the word. Worst of all, Lucy doesn't even tell anyone what she's up to. Her husband thinks she's just getting back in touch with her NYC roots, taking in a show or two to unwind from the daily grind of housewifery and part-time journalism. (Not that I blame her for wanting some time off from Bill; he can be a bit of a caveman.) Yet knowing that I would never do any of these things is what entertained me as I devoured Leslie Meier's twenty-fifth Lucy Stone novel, Silver Anniversary Murder. The humor hooked me too, especially this bit about the crooked tycoon:
"Even hardened New Yorkers were horrified by Beth's gruesome end, and her friends were deeply shaken, coping with guilt as well as grief. But not Jeremy, once her nearest and dearest, who was happily bopping around the city collecting awards and consorting with call girls." (124)
Because sometimes reading about characters who are different from you can be as comforting as reading about characters who are you (but with better cars and haircuts). They make you thankful that you're not squandering your hard-earned money, vacation time, and safety to play detective.
Which, I suppose, explains why I was always more of a Bess Marvin than a Nancy Drew.
