I was on an author panel with John Billheimer recently, at Left Coast Crime 2013, in Colorado Springs. On the way there, I listened to Highway Robbery on my Kindle. It's one of a half-dozen mysteries Billheimer has written while running a business in California that guys like him with Phd's from Stanford run. But Billheimer grew up in West Virginia, in the South, a region those of us who live elsewhere enjoy stereotyping as ground zero for hordes of six-fingered, green jello sucking hillbillies--with occasional exceptions, like William Faulkner or Maya Angelou or you pick one.
Highway Robbery is an intelligent, soulful book. It's a treasury of Southern humor and Southern speech ("I got more buckshot than you got hide")and a kind of tribute to a part of the contemporary South, that being West Virginia, where the book's main character has returned, bedeviled by his present and haunted by his past,so to speak, to deal with all of it--the estranged wife, the old girlfriend, his mother,a funny and tragic best friend from his youth-- and a set of bones, believed to be those of his father, which came out of the ground on a highway building project--and it is the road building business in the South that gives Billheimer a focal point for an erudite commentary on institutional corruption, revealing, to risk another pat phrase here, a dark past, and, for the purposes of Highway Robbery, a darker present.