CODE OF THE HILLS

Excellent Kentucky noir—Offutt's third Mick Hardin novel is the best yet.

Mick, a veteran Army investigator, has finally mustered out after 20 years of service, and he's headed home to Rocksalt for a quick last look and goodbye before he retires (or exiles himself) to Corsica. Just as he arrives home, though, a body is discovered—a crusty old race-car mechanic has been killed, and Mick's sister, Linda, the sheriff, begins investigating. Mick agrees to help her deputy, Johnny Boy, with a tricky eviction order—a father is trying to boot his son and the son's wife from the deluxe chicken house in which they've been squatting—and before long the two lawmen have found not only a link to the mechanic's murder, but a second corpse. Immediately thereafter, Linda gets into harm's way...and with her out of action, Mick is sucked back into investigative work and given a field promotion to temporary deputy. What ensues involves cockfighting, rattlesnake-milking, a perilous trip to Detroit (and to "Ypsitucky" beyond it), and in the end Mick once again has to negotiate both the code of the hills (a reference in this case to the tradition of honor- or vengeance-killing) and the murky and tangled ethics that come into play when a law enforcer values justice above the letter of the law. Offutt once again beautifully captures both the roughness and the generosity of the inhabitants of Rocksalt, both the menace and the beauty of the eastern Kentucky landscape. The dialogue is a highlight, consistently sharp, quick, and funny; in that, Offutt is rapidly becoming a rural-noir rival to greats like Elmore Leonard.

Another love letter to Appalachia with a high body count. Another bloody delight.