I bought Sara Paretsky’s Blacklist in the airport bookstore as I was departing for Sussex. I also picked up James Lee Burke’s Last Car to Elysian Fields. I devoured them both, the Burke on the way to and during my stay in Sussex, and the Paretsky on the way home, and in the couple of days after I got back. It had been years since I’d read a mystery of any variety, and it was just lovely to fall into the plot, wondering what was coming next. But Paretsky’s novel, which ties old political scandals of the McCarthy era to the new horrors of the PATRIOT Act has stuck with me.
As have both detectives. Warshawski’s lover is off playing reporter-hero in Afghanistan, while Robicheaux is battling all his old demons after the loss of his wife. There’s gotta be a way to hook these two up; I think they’re made for each other.