"Most of my days were spent on the deck as well: drinking beer, popping pills, and not writing a book. This morning was starting out no different from the rest—me, hungover, taking turns staring at Cold Mountain and at a blank legal pad where I kept hoping a book outline would magically appear."
"During my time on the force and those years as a private detective, I hadn’t cared who was guilty and who was innocent. I just put in my hours and cashed the checks. Instinct never got into the mix. I never once had a gut feeling that told me to dig deeper or look closer. It wasn’t that I couldn’t connect the dots; I just wasn’t all that interested in finding them in the first place. Until now."
GRAVEYARD FIELDS is a less-than-perfect novel that nonetheless pushes most of my readerly pleasure buttons so firmly that I love it anyway. It's a fun florid prose exercise; it's a confidently smooth ride through rough territory; and at its heart is a Beavis-and-Butt-Head bromance so endearingly prickly and junior-high shoulder-punchy that I couldn't help smiling every time Davis Reed, the protagonist, and his landlord, sheriff's deputy Dale Johnson, shared the page.
GRAVEYARD FIELDS sometimes bites off more plot and characters than it can chew — one, a duplicitous would-be romantic prospect for Davis, is so thinly sketched she's practically a tracing. You know when there's a lengthy conversation at the end to tie up loose plot points in a conversation among principals that an author has left a little too much hanging in the wind. At times it feels like a screenplay that's been hastilly backdrafted into a novelization, and as such it sometimes shows its structural scaffolding: "I stared at myself in the mirror and thought about what I’d become. I was not the man I wanted to be. I didn’t want to be a recluse. I didn’t want to be crippled with anger. I didn’t want to be constantly numb. I wanted to be a man who could wake up and feel good about himself instead of a man who didn’t really care if he woke up at all."
But those are minor nitpicks in a novel that was pure pleasure on almost every page.
To me, GRAVEYARD FIELDS' greatest virtue is that its suspense is largely driven by character: As you watch the friendship between Davis and Dale develop on a river of craft beer and 1980s crotch-rock, you find yourself holding your breath in the later pages, terrified that one or the other will deceive the other and turn out to be a bad guy. (I won't spoil that outcome, but it's good.) Especially when Davis has been withholding secrets about his bloody past, and Dale turns out to have blood ties to some of the more suspect suspects in his rural North Carolina mountain town. The plot, about missing gold and maybe drugs and mysterious keys and a growing list of local murders, hums along pretty much as background music to the Davis-and-Dale Show: "Dale was good people, I had to admit it. Most of the time I wanted to punch him in his pudgy face, but I knew that if I were ever in trouble, I could call him anytime, night or day, and he’d show up full of fire and fury. That’s a good friend to have."
And I mentioned the prose. Steven Tingle has a nice twisted eye for figurative language, and here are some of my favorite example:
"His belly hung over his belt like a sack of fertilizer about to fall off a tailgate."
“I don’t like them women that’s all skin and bones,” he said. “It’s like f***ing a pile of paper clips.”
"She was beautiful in an innocent, Applebee’s-waitress kind of way."
"I had always driven fairly slow. My ex-girlfriend Sarah used to say I drove like a grandma on her way to a church social with a Crock-Pot full of collard greens on the passenger seat."
"Just based on his look, he struck me as the kind of guy who thought Road House was the pinnacle of American cinema."
"My buddy Cecil has a ’Stang, but it’s an old five-point-oh and sounds like one of them big motel ice machines when it cranks up."
"A woman loving you is no good reason to love her back.”
"When I walked into the kitchen, Dale was holding a box of cereal. The leprechaun on the side of the box looked like a child predator. In a way he was, I thought."
GRAVEYARD FIELDs is highly recommended for fans of Chris Offutt, S.A. Cosby, Eryk Pruitt, Brian Panowich and a zillion others who write funny, fast-paced crime fiction with a fully realized sense of Southern place.