COCONUT DROP DEAD

Brooklyn’s annual Caribbean American Heritage Festival is disrupted by murder and a host of lesser irregularities.

Lyndsay Murray, of the Spice Isle Bakery, wonders whether her cousin Manson Bain, an audio engineer at Caribbean Tunes, is really just friends with Camille Abbey, lead singer of DragonFlyZ, or whether there’s something more to the relationship. Before she and her appealingly nosy relatives can find out once and for all, the question is rendered moot when Camille is killed in a tumble down a flight of steps at the height of what ought to be a joyous occasion. Or was she pushed, since it beggars the imagination to think that she fell backwards? When NYPD Homicide Det. Bryce Jackson ignores Manny’s pleas for an investigation, Manny asks Lyndsay to lean on him. Lyndsay has two clear advantages: She’s already been dubbed “the Grenadian Nancy Drew” after clearing up two earlier cases that implicated her mother and herself, and Bryce Jackson is definitely sweet on her. But he continues to drag his feet at every step, and Lyndsay ends up taking the lead in identifying suspects, uncovering evidence, and confronting the killer she is the first to finger. Along the way, Matthews reminds readers of the Caribbean backgrounds of entertainers and public figures from Alexander Hamilton to Eric Holder. At the long-awaited fade-out, Lyndsay announces, “No more dead bodies for me.” Let’s see about that.

The anemic mystery is consistently outshined by the full-throated celebration of Caribbean American pride.