Rehder’s novels—in particular, his Blanco County mysteries—are darkly comic, full of characters that skitter right to edge of that most Texas of all caricatures, Bubba, the mythical, beer-swilling backcountry redneck that never met a gun, deer stand, pickup or double-wide he didn’t love. In most cases, Rehder is setting you up for a bootlegger’s turn, an unexpected 180 that upends your expectations with a dimension you didn’t think his characters could possibly have. Take Billy Don Craddock and Red O’Brien, the deer-poaching protagonists of this Rehder tale. They’re a pair of ne’er-do-well Bubbas who share a double-wide in the Hill Country an hour west of Austin. They’re also inveterate schemers addicted to casual mayhem but they aren’t truly bad men. Craddock, a bear of a man, turns out to be a blackjack savant while O’Brien has guile and a sharp eye for angles and lies and brains to go along with his balls. The lies of O’Brien’s tweaker cousin put both Bubbas in the crosshairs of a truly bad hombre, a meth lord and killer whose sister was gored by a prize bull the cousin tried to rustle from a rancher’s pasture. Rehder, a native son born in Austin, has a sharp eye for detail and an understanding of small-town and rural central Texas and the people who live there, including those who return from the big city like Lone Star homing pigeons. And he plays it utterly straight and true in his dead-solid-perfect descriptions of that deceptively scenic country and its up-close harshness -- the choking caliche dust, the sharp-thorned mesquite, the bone-dry banks of a man-made lake. This gives authenticity to his comic opera mysteries. The Texas he describes is true and keeps his novels from veering into a ridiculous abyss of Texana caricature.