From Publishers Weekly
Far from Haines's fluffy Southern cozies in tone, if not geography, this thriller from the author of Crossed Bones aims at a noirish literary quality it only partly achieves. On the plus side are powerful scenes of suspense and a moody evocation of time and place. Eschewing anything so obvious as naming an actual date, Haines makes it clear through subtle clues that the action is happening just after the end of WWII. The entrenched racial structure of a small Mississippi town of that era is similarly well done. Chief among the novel's shortcomings is the heavy-handed rendering of the love story between a mixed-race beauty, Jade Dupree, and all-white deputy Frank Kimble. Other interracial relationships are integral to the story, but the tantalizing possibility of a strong unifying theme is lost in banality and cliché. After society queen Marlena Bramlett, Jade's white half-sister, is brutally raped and Marlena's young daughter kidnapped, the plot thickens like cold grits. Haines loses control as her story builds to a discordant conclusion, which could be setting up a sequel but otherwise fails to satisfy. (Apr.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Review
Praise for Carolyn Haines
Library Journal named Penumbra one of its Best Mysteries of 2006.
"Haines's sentences neatly and exactly delineate passionate emotions and richly drawn characters."
--Rocky Mountain News on Judas Burning
"Like the heat of a Deep South summer, Ms. Haines's novel has an undeniable intensity; it's impossible to shake its brooding atmosphere."
--The New York Times Book Review on Judas Burning
"Clever and impressive."
--Publishers Weekly on Hallowed Bones
"A writer of exceptional talent."
--Milwaukee Journal on Them Bones
"Wickedly funny. Devilishly clever. Scintillatingly Southern. Carolyn Haines is an author to die for."
--Carolyn Hart, author of April Fool Dead
"The past rises up and grabs the present by the throat in this riveting look into a small town's dark heart. Fans of Haines's Bones series will welcome this latest novel's haunted characters and driving narrative."
--Julia Spencer-Fleming, Edgar finalist and author of To Darkness and to Death
Book Description
Jade Dupree is a beautician and an undertaker's assistant with a gift for smoothing the ravages of death from the faces of her clientele. But her strange talent isn't the only thing that sets her apart from the townspeople of tiny Drexel, Mississippi.
Jade is half-black and the unacknowledged bastard daughter of Drexel's "first lady," the imperious Lucille Longier. Jade's half sister, the pale, fragile, and legitimate Marlena, is married to Lucas Bramlett, the wealthiest man in the region. While the entire town knows of the blood bond between the two women, no one dares speak the truth out loud.
Though her talents as a hairdresser are highly sought after by Drexel's elite, Jade accepts that she'll never truly be part of the town and lives her life the best she can. But on one hot summer day in 1952, Jade's world is turned inside out when Marlena, on a tryst with her lover, is savagely beaten and her young daughter kidnapped. Determined to find her niece before it's too late, Jade accepts help from a white sheriff's deputy, Frank Kimble. The forbidden attraction that ignites between them threatens to add to the violence already brewing in town.
Carolyn Haines has written several acclaimed mysteries, but here she mines much darker, more serious territory, resulting in a suspenseful, lyrical, passionate, and literary crime novel.
Jade is half-black and the unacknowledged bastard daughter of Drexel's "first lady," the imperious Lucille Longier. Jade's half sister, the pale, fragile, and legitimate Marlena, is married to Lucas Bramlett, the wealthiest man in the region. While the entire town knows of the blood bond between the two women, no one dares speak the truth out loud.
Though her talents as a hairdresser are highly sought after by Drexel's elite, Jade accepts that she'll never truly be part of the town and lives her life the best she can. But on one hot summer day in 1952, Jade's world is turned inside out when Marlena, on a tryst with her lover, is savagely beaten and her young daughter kidnapped. Determined to find her niece before it's too late, Jade accepts help from a white sheriff's deputy, Frank Kimble. The forbidden attraction that ignites between them threatens to add to the violence already brewing in town.
Carolyn Haines has written several acclaimed mysteries, but here she mines much darker, more serious territory, resulting in a suspenseful, lyrical, passionate, and literary crime novel.
From the Back Cover
Praise for Carolyn Haines
"Haines's sentences neatly and exactly delineate passionate emotions and richly drawn characters."
--Rocky Mountain News on Judas Burning
"Like the heat of a Deep South summer, Ms. Haines's novel has an undeniable intensity; it's impossible to shake its brooding atmosphere."
--The New York Times Book Review on Judas Burning
"Clever and impressive."
--Publishers Weekly on Hallowed Bones
"Wickedly funny. Devilishly clever. Scintillatingly Southern. Carolyn Haines is an author to die for."
--Carolyn Hart, author of April Fool Dead
"The past rises up and grabs the present by the throat in this riveting look into a small town's dark heart. Fans of Haines's Bones series will welcome this latest novel's haunted characters and driving narrative."
--Julia Spencer-Fleming, Edgar finalist and author of To Darkness and to Death
"Haines's sentences neatly and exactly delineate passionate emotions and richly drawn characters."
--Rocky Mountain News on Judas Burning
"Like the heat of a Deep South summer, Ms. Haines's novel has an undeniable intensity; it's impossible to shake its brooding atmosphere."
--The New York Times Book Review on Judas Burning
"Clever and impressive."
--Publishers Weekly on Hallowed Bones
"Wickedly funny. Devilishly clever. Scintillatingly Southern. Carolyn Haines is an author to die for."
--Carolyn Hart, author of April Fool Dead
"The past rises up and grabs the present by the throat in this riveting look into a small town's dark heart. Fans of Haines's Bones series will welcome this latest novel's haunted characters and driving narrative."
--Julia Spencer-Fleming, Edgar finalist and author of To Darkness and to Death
About the Author
Carolyn Haines was born and raised in Mississippi. The author of the Sarah Booth Delaney mysteries and several other novels, she lives in Alabama, where she writes, teaches, and tends to her horses. Visit her Web site at www.carolynhaines.com.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
The black Cadillac convertible churned down the dirt road, whipping whirls of dust behind it. The car, low-slung and fast, disappeared behind a stand of dark pines, leaving the landscape unexplainably barren. In a pasture beside the road an old mule grazed on grass burned dry by a merciless sun. From the shadow of a leaning barn came the low of a cow. The car sped by them, almost a vision, leaving only the settling dust and the taste of scorched dirt.
Behind the wheel, Marlena Bramlett pushed dark sunglasses higher on a perfect nose. A white scarf protected her hair, except for her bangs, which bobbed in hair-sprayed curls on her forehead. The red-and-white striped shirt she wore hugged her breasts; darts emphasized her narrow waist. She drove as if her profile were the masthead on a ship.
Beside Marlena, standing in the middle of the seat, a six-year-old girl faced the wind. Brown pigtails, tipped with white bows, fluttered wildly behind the child.
"I see him!" Suzanna pointed up the road, her childish voice rising in excitement. "He's there. He's waiting for us."
"Sit down," Marlena told her daughter. "You act like a heathen."
"Will he have olives? The ones with the red things inside?" Suzanna bounced up and down on the seat.
"I don't know." Marlena passed the back of her hand over her forehead, smoothing the blond curls that, only half an hour before, had been pinned to lie just so.
"Big Johnny lives on a red dirt road, and he tastes like chocolate," Suzanna said.
"He gives you chocolate," Marlena corrected. "And he thinks you're very smart. But that's our secret, remember? If you tell anyone, I mean anyone, you can never come with me again." The car fell into shadow as it entered a thick grove of pines. The road narrowed, and sand grabbed at the wheels.
"I won't tell." Suzanna glanced at her mother, hurt. "I'd never tell on you."
Marlena slowed the car, finally stopping. She pulled her daughter to her side. "I know you won't tell. You're the one who loves me best." She kissed Suzanna's cheek, then quickly brushed the fine dust from her daughter's skin. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't bring you. Now let's make sure we look good." She turned the rearview mirror so she could check her ruby lipstick.
"Does Big Johnny really think I'm smart?" Suzanna twisted both pigtails in front of her chest. "He says I'm pretty, like you."
"Does he really?" Marlena's attention focused on the man half-hidden in the shadow of the car. She drove slowly abreast of the two-toned Chevy and stopped. The man sitting behind the wheel was tall, his black hair Bryllcremed back, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. The ringless hand on the window was long and tanned, the nails neat. One finger thumped a rhythm.
"You're late," he said.
"I couldn't get away. Lucas brought someone home for lunch."
Suzanna felt the tension between the two adults. Big Johnny was angry. He looked hot, inside and out. His olive skin was slick with heat, his black eyes burning. If Johnny acted ugly to her mother, Marlena would be upset for days.
"I can count to a hundred," Suzanna said.
"I'm sorry we're late," Marlena said. "I came as quickly as I could."
"We brought some iced tea," Suzanna said. Big Johnny loved iced tea. She held up the heavy gallon jar, lemons floating on top and ice rattling against the glass. "I've got glasses, too. And Mama dug worms for me." At last she had Big Johnny's attention.
"You brought worms?" His voice strained in an effort to be jolly. "Worms for Susie-Belle-Ring-o-ling." Big Johnny got out of the car, his white teeth showing in a false smile. In his hand he carried a leather satchel. He went around to the passenger door and got in. Suzanna stood on the seat between the two adults, feeling suddenly trapped. Marlena put the car in gear and slowly drove away.
"I've missed you," Marlena said, her hands on the wheel and her gaze on the dirt road that wound ahead of them through the pine forests. "Where've you been?"
"Up to Mendenhall and Magee, Collins and Hattiesburg. I had to take Lew's route when he came down with the fever. I would have called, but I can't." His voice was bitter. "Your husband might answer the phone."
Marlena glanced at him, and Suzanna saw the pleading in her eyes. "I'm sorry. That's just the way things are."
"I'm tired of the way things are." Big Johnny stared straight ahead, his voice low.
Suzanna leaned against the seat. She could feel the hot leather, now dust-coated. She didn't like it when her mother and Big Johnny were angry. She liked it when they laughed and teased each other, then her mother's blue eyes sparked and she was beautiful and alive. When they were angry, the fun left her mother and only the hard, cold shell of her body was there.
"Mama said we could go fishing today," Suzanna said. Usually Big Johnny liked it when they went fishing.
"I don't have time." Big Johnny's voice was punishing.
"Please, Johnny." Marlena turned to him. "I made an excuse to stay out for three hours. It's hard for me to find that much time away."
"I feel like I'm renting you. Watch the road," he snapped.
"Don't say things like that."
"That's the reality. I feel cheap." Johnny pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, the air from the moving car pushing the smoke behind them. His laugh was harsh. "Isn't that the best? I feel cheap. I want more, Marlena."
There was a long silence that made Suzanna furious. She hated Big Johnny and she hated her father. They were stupid jackasses. She'd learned that word at school, and she was proud of it.
Finally, Marlena spoke. "I don't have more to give right now, Johnny. If you'd like, I can take you back to your car."
Suzanna watched the corner of her mother's mouth, the tiny tuck in the lips and flesh. Her chin was trembling and in a moment her mother would be crying. In a flash of fury, Suzanna turned on the man beside her. "I hate you!" She drew back her foot and kicked, catching the man in the ribs. He made a strange sound and leaned forward.
"Suzanna!" Marlena slammed on the brakes and put the car into a skid. The Cadillac turned sideways, wheels making the sound of tearing as they slewed through the sand.
"Goddamn it!" Johnny leaned across the seat and grabbed the wheel. He gave it a vicious jerk. The car swung heavy and fast, then righted itself and stopped in the center of the road. "You could have killed us all!" His arm was around Suzanna's legs, holding her as she braced her hands against the top of the windshield. "She would have been thrown out of the car if I hadn't caught her."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Marlena's head dipped to the steering wheel. "I don't know why I'm alive," she said. "I want to die."
"Mama!" Suzanna struggled free of the man's grip. "Mama, it's okay. Don't cry." She hugged her mother's shoulder and felt hatred again for the man beside her. She glared at him. "Fix it," she demanded.
Johnny got out of the car and moved around to the driver's side. Marlena slid over and leaned her face into Suzanna.
The car started smoothly and Johnny kept driving. He didn't turn around. He didn't say anything. He put one arm on the door and drove, the wind drying the sweat on his forehead.
Suzanna saw the shaded timber trail ahead even before Johnny slowed to turn. This was her favorite place to fish. The two-track road, wallowed out in mud holes, wound to the river. It was a slow, brown river with deep places darkened by rotting leaves and the trunks of trees caught in a swirl of currents and forever doomed to remain there. The day was hot enough to wade in the shallows, if her mother would let her. She couldn't swim. No one had time to teach her.
After the car stopped, Suzanna got the fishing pole from the backseat and the worms in a can from the floorboard. She hated threading the worm on the hook, but Big Johnny had taught her how to do it, and he would mock her if she acted squeamish. She took the cane pole and the can of worms to the bank of the river.
"What was the Indian tribe that lived on this river?" Johnny asked her as he lifted his satchel from the floorboard.
"The Chickasawhay Indians. They were Choctaws," Suzanna answered, unable to hide the thrill of being right. Every time they met, Big Johnny taught her something new, and then the next time he would quiz her on it. She always knew the answer, and she liked the way he smiled when she was right. "Mama, can I wade?"
Marlena walked to the edge of the river. About four feet from the bank a sandbar beckoned just below the surface of the lazy water. "No further than the sandbar," she said. "And wear the life jacket."
Suzanna's jaw locked into place. "I hate that thing. It stinks. I can't hold the fishing pole good. I won't---"
"Then sit on the bank." Johnny's voice bit into her complaint.
She was stunned. Big Johnny never talked to her that way. That was how her father spoke to her. "I want to go home," she said. She threw her pole to the ground. "I want to go home now."
"Baby, you can wade to the sandbar," Marlena said. She flashed a look at Johnny.
"I'm not wearing the life jacket." Suzanna dared them to defy her.
"Okay, but don't go any further than the sandbar." Marlena got the jar of tea and a blanket. Johnny picked up the picnic basket that was covered with a cloth on the floorboard of the backseat. "We're going to set up the picnic. We'll eat after you catch three fish. Remember, call out to us before you come, okay?"
Suzanna nodded. She liked for them to leave so she could be alone. She sat on the bank of the river and removed her Keds. They were brand new, the white rubber around the soles still pristine. She'd gotten them at Marcel's, the only clothing store in Drexel. The shoes had been a special present from her mother, something to wear for the rest of the summer.
She heard Johnny's deep laughter and the sound of her moth...
The black Cadillac convertible churned down the dirt road, whipping whirls of dust behind it. The car, low-slung and fast, disappeared behind a stand of dark pines, leaving the landscape unexplainably barren. In a pasture beside the road an old mule grazed on grass burned dry by a merciless sun. From the shadow of a leaning barn came the low of a cow. The car sped by them, almost a vision, leaving only the settling dust and the taste of scorched dirt.
Behind the wheel, Marlena Bramlett pushed dark sunglasses higher on a perfect nose. A white scarf protected her hair, except for her bangs, which bobbed in hair-sprayed curls on her forehead. The red-and-white striped shirt she wore hugged her breasts; darts emphasized her narrow waist. She drove as if her profile were the masthead on a ship.
Beside Marlena, standing in the middle of the seat, a six-year-old girl faced the wind. Brown pigtails, tipped with white bows, fluttered wildly behind the child.
"I see him!" Suzanna pointed up the road, her childish voice rising in excitement. "He's there. He's waiting for us."
"Sit down," Marlena told her daughter. "You act like a heathen."
"Will he have olives? The ones with the red things inside?" Suzanna bounced up and down on the seat.
"I don't know." Marlena passed the back of her hand over her forehead, smoothing the blond curls that, only half an hour before, had been pinned to lie just so.
"Big Johnny lives on a red dirt road, and he tastes like chocolate," Suzanna said.
"He gives you chocolate," Marlena corrected. "And he thinks you're very smart. But that's our secret, remember? If you tell anyone, I mean anyone, you can never come with me again." The car fell into shadow as it entered a thick grove of pines. The road narrowed, and sand grabbed at the wheels.
"I won't tell." Suzanna glanced at her mother, hurt. "I'd never tell on you."
Marlena slowed the car, finally stopping. She pulled her daughter to her side. "I know you won't tell. You're the one who loves me best." She kissed Suzanna's cheek, then quickly brushed the fine dust from her daughter's skin. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't bring you. Now let's make sure we look good." She turned the rearview mirror so she could check her ruby lipstick.
"Does Big Johnny really think I'm smart?" Suzanna twisted both pigtails in front of her chest. "He says I'm pretty, like you."
"Does he really?" Marlena's attention focused on the man half-hidden in the shadow of the car. She drove slowly abreast of the two-toned Chevy and stopped. The man sitting behind the wheel was tall, his black hair Bryllcremed back, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. The ringless hand on the window was long and tanned, the nails neat. One finger thumped a rhythm.
"You're late," he said.
"I couldn't get away. Lucas brought someone home for lunch."
Suzanna felt the tension between the two adults. Big Johnny was angry. He looked hot, inside and out. His olive skin was slick with heat, his black eyes burning. If Johnny acted ugly to her mother, Marlena would be upset for days.
"I can count to a hundred," Suzanna said.
"I'm sorry we're late," Marlena said. "I came as quickly as I could."
"We brought some iced tea," Suzanna said. Big Johnny loved iced tea. She held up the heavy gallon jar, lemons floating on top and ice rattling against the glass. "I've got glasses, too. And Mama dug worms for me." At last she had Big Johnny's attention.
"You brought worms?" His voice strained in an effort to be jolly. "Worms for Susie-Belle-Ring-o-ling." Big Johnny got out of the car, his white teeth showing in a false smile. In his hand he carried a leather satchel. He went around to the passenger door and got in. Suzanna stood on the seat between the two adults, feeling suddenly trapped. Marlena put the car in gear and slowly drove away.
"I've missed you," Marlena said, her hands on the wheel and her gaze on the dirt road that wound ahead of them through the pine forests. "Where've you been?"
"Up to Mendenhall and Magee, Collins and Hattiesburg. I had to take Lew's route when he came down with the fever. I would have called, but I can't." His voice was bitter. "Your husband might answer the phone."
Marlena glanced at him, and Suzanna saw the pleading in her eyes. "I'm sorry. That's just the way things are."
"I'm tired of the way things are." Big Johnny stared straight ahead, his voice low.
Suzanna leaned against the seat. She could feel the hot leather, now dust-coated. She didn't like it when her mother and Big Johnny were angry. She liked it when they laughed and teased each other, then her mother's blue eyes sparked and she was beautiful and alive. When they were angry, the fun left her mother and only the hard, cold shell of her body was there.
"Mama said we could go fishing today," Suzanna said. Usually Big Johnny liked it when they went fishing.
"I don't have time." Big Johnny's voice was punishing.
"Please, Johnny." Marlena turned to him. "I made an excuse to stay out for three hours. It's hard for me to find that much time away."
"I feel like I'm renting you. Watch the road," he snapped.
"Don't say things like that."
"That's the reality. I feel cheap." Johnny pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, the air from the moving car pushing the smoke behind them. His laugh was harsh. "Isn't that the best? I feel cheap. I want more, Marlena."
There was a long silence that made Suzanna furious. She hated Big Johnny and she hated her father. They were stupid jackasses. She'd learned that word at school, and she was proud of it.
Finally, Marlena spoke. "I don't have more to give right now, Johnny. If you'd like, I can take you back to your car."
Suzanna watched the corner of her mother's mouth, the tiny tuck in the lips and flesh. Her chin was trembling and in a moment her mother would be crying. In a flash of fury, Suzanna turned on the man beside her. "I hate you!" She drew back her foot and kicked, catching the man in the ribs. He made a strange sound and leaned forward.
"Suzanna!" Marlena slammed on the brakes and put the car into a skid. The Cadillac turned sideways, wheels making the sound of tearing as they slewed through the sand.
"Goddamn it!" Johnny leaned across the seat and grabbed the wheel. He gave it a vicious jerk. The car swung heavy and fast, then righted itself and stopped in the center of the road. "You could have killed us all!" His arm was around Suzanna's legs, holding her as she braced her hands against the top of the windshield. "She would have been thrown out of the car if I hadn't caught her."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Marlena's head dipped to the steering wheel. "I don't know why I'm alive," she said. "I want to die."
"Mama!" Suzanna struggled free of the man's grip. "Mama, it's okay. Don't cry." She hugged her mother's shoulder and felt hatred again for the man beside her. She glared at him. "Fix it," she demanded.
Johnny got out of the car and moved around to the driver's side. Marlena slid over and leaned her face into Suzanna.
The car started smoothly and Johnny kept driving. He didn't turn around. He didn't say anything. He put one arm on the door and drove, the wind drying the sweat on his forehead.
Suzanna saw the shaded timber trail ahead even before Johnny slowed to turn. This was her favorite place to fish. The two-track road, wallowed out in mud holes, wound to the river. It was a slow, brown river with deep places darkened by rotting leaves and the trunks of trees caught in a swirl of currents and forever doomed to remain there. The day was hot enough to wade in the shallows, if her mother would let her. She couldn't swim. No one had time to teach her.
After the car stopped, Suzanna got the fishing pole from the backseat and the worms in a can from the floorboard. She hated threading the worm on the hook, but Big Johnny had taught her how to do it, and he would mock her if she acted squeamish. She took the cane pole and the can of worms to the bank of the river.
"What was the Indian tribe that lived on this river?" Johnny asked her as he lifted his satchel from the floorboard.
"The Chickasawhay Indians. They were Choctaws," Suzanna answered, unable to hide the thrill of being right. Every time they met, Big Johnny taught her something new, and then the next time he would quiz her on it. She always knew the answer, and she liked the way he smiled when she was right. "Mama, can I wade?"
Marlena walked to the edge of the river. About four feet from the bank a sandbar beckoned just below the surface of the lazy water. "No further than the sandbar," she said. "And wear the life jacket."
Suzanna's jaw locked into place. "I hate that thing. It stinks. I can't hold the fishing pole good. I won't---"
"Then sit on the bank." Johnny's voice bit into her complaint.
She was stunned. Big Johnny never talked to her that way. That was how her father spoke to her. "I want to go home," she said. She threw her pole to the ground. "I want to go home now."
"Baby, you can wade to the sandbar," Marlena said. She flashed a look at Johnny.
"I'm not wearing the life jacket." Suzanna dared them to defy her.
"Okay, but don't go any further than the sandbar." Marlena got the jar of tea and a blanket. Johnny picked up the picnic basket that was covered with a cloth on the floorboard of the backseat. "We're going to set up the picnic. We'll eat after you catch three fish. Remember, call out to us before you come, okay?"
Suzanna nodded. She liked for them to leave so she could be alone. She sat on the bank of the river and removed her Keds. They were brand new, the white rubber around the soles still pristine. She'd gotten them at Marcel's, the only clothing store in Drexel. The shoes had been a special present from her mother, something to wear for the rest of the summer.
She heard Johnny's deep laughter and the sound of her moth...
