Britt Montero is highly likable, and her portrayal of the newspaper world in the late 20th century feels spot-on. I appreciate these mysteries because, troubled as the industry was even then, it didn’t face today’s very real threat of AI news gatherers supplanting humans.
Britt, a 32-year-old single Cuban American woman fresh off a hard breakup with a cop, covers Miami’s police beat for the “Herald.” Someone the cops and the press call “the downtown rapist” is terrorizing Miami’s women, and Britt finds herself at the center of the story as she covers the case. She takes pressure from every direction: the city’s fear is palpable, the cops feel it and urgently want a solution, and her editors demand stories yesterday. Britt works fast, but she won’t get loose with the facts, and facts take time to pin down.
This book runs hot with tension. Britt isn’t a cozy knitter who runs a tiny charming library and happens to stumble into a murder. She’s driven by an unswerving love for Miami and its people. This isn’t just a paycheck; it’s how she immerses herself in her beloved city and gives residents the best information she can. That immersion comes at a price, because she sees Miami’s dark, seamy underside up close. The cops know she won’t flinch when a gruesome scene appears, and they begrudgingly respect her quiet tenacity—even as they resent what her job represents. This isn’t a gentle mystery, and Buchanan doesn’t keep danger at arm’s length.
And Miami itself becomes a major character. Buchanan has a real gift for using place names, and Britt reads the city the way she reads a crime scene—feeling its pulse, its heat, and its sheer unpredictability.
She’s also indirectly working another story involving a glib politician who wants Florida’s governorship, and she’s not convinced he deserves the position. When he was a teenager, the cops suspected he killed an eight-year-old girl, but they never found enough evidence to put him away for it. With help from a retired, dying cop, Britt pieces together that cold case. It’s a strong subplot alongside the main case.
This book deserves all four stars. Some people hand out five-star ratings like candy at a parade, but I’m stingy with mine. If you get five stars from me, it’s because the book changed something—it made me think differently about my life or my circumstances, or it taught me something I couldn’t have found elsewhere. I get emotionally involved in books, but a true five-star read has to pull me all the way in. I suspect plenty of readers would give this five stars, and it may even deserve them; it just doesn’t quite cross that threshold for me. Four stars from me is high praise; my five-star shelf is small by design.
There’s a suspenseful scene involving Britt in a public bathroom at a dental office, and the rapist is in there with her—knife, muscle, and all. Let’s just say my pacemaker almost called home to report mysterious battery depletion. (Okay, that part was a human hallucination.) But the point stands: Britt’s risk feels high and memorable.
One more reason to read this: Britt’s photographer friend, Lottie. She’s the sister Britt never had. The two of them can talk about anything, and nothing feels off-limits. They share love-life woes and successes, and Lottie would run personal errands for Britt if she needed it. They simply show up for each other and quietly stand together under all kinds of circumstances. Her presence adds a steadying warmth when the rest of the story turns tense.
Start with book one if you can. It lays the foundation for who Britt is: you learn her background, you learn about her dead father and why he’s dead, and you learn about her complex, rocky relationship with her mother. By the time you reach this second book, you already feel like you’ve made friends with her, and that’s hugely helpful.
Buchanan ends things in one of my favorite ways: she gives you a wrapped ending that doesn’t feel abrupt, then leaves a figurative door cracked open—an enigmatic figure quietly beckoning you into the next book.
If you’re here for a smart, working-reporter heroine and a city that feels alive, you’re in the right place. If you love heroines who get the job done with calm efficiency and zero fanfare, Britt is your kind of lead. And if you’re okay with some vivid, memorable descriptions of crimes, you can read this and be just fine. But if all you read are cozy mysteries or romances, this may not be the best way to fling yourself into the world of darker, more vivid mysteries.