Risking her own reputation, a WAAC squad leader in World War II turns investigator to avenge a colleague.
General Dwight D. Eisenhower, supreme commander of the allied forces in North Africa, has followed up his November 1943 invasion with the first-ever assignment of women soldiers to a combat region, albeit in “rear-echelon positions.” Despite the shadow of war, spirits are high at a military dance in the Algiers Opera House, as squad leader Dottie Lincoln watches over her WAACs like a mother hen. But the night ends tragically. Brought outside by a scream, revelers discover the body of WAAC Ruth Wentz sprawled on the pavement in a pool of her own blood. Dottie’s superior, Captain Devlin, rules it a tragic suicide. But could Ruth have jumped to her death? Dottie, who narrates in a crisp and upbeat first person, isn’t so sure and successfully presses Devlin to investigate. When he falters in the face of pushback from his commanding officers, Dottie feels compelled to look into the case on her own. Jones’ debut novel often has the flavor of wartime Hollywood movies, complete with a cadre of savvy military gals, each with her own backstory. Deftly handled and equally compelling is the often subtle misogyny and sexism Dottie and her squad face. The rumor that Dottie’s a German spy, cleverly planted by the killer, slows but doesn't stop her investigation. A highlight of her twisty probe is an ambush at the infamous Casbah, which is strictly off limits to the soldiers. Appropriately, Ike makes a cameo appearance.
A solid whodunit built around an important historical footnote.