Junkyard Dogs

This one opens with probably the funniest incidents in the series, I don't want to spoil it, just trust me. Actually, there's quite a few things in the opening chapters of this book to chuckle at or with.

But it wouldn't be much of a mystery novel if it stayed that way. And so one chuckle-worthy happening is used by Walt to try to help one of his deputies. And then another string of comic events and characters ends with a corpse or two turning up. Which pretty much stops the laughter. It's really a shame, I liked one of the people who died – and the family of one of the others. (Which isn't to say that it's not a shame when it happens to characters I don't like)

The mystery was a little easier to solve than I really like, but these books aren't really so much about the whodunit as they are about what happens with Walt and co. while they figure it out. On that front, this was pretty entertaining.

Seeds were planted for something involving Henry's brother. Well, seeds have been planted already – I guess I should say that the previously planted seeds about Henry's brother got a decent watering. However you want to look at it – something's brewing on that front, and it's not going to be pretty when it's done. I hope the same isn't the case with the impending nuptials.

As usual, with a book that takes in a part of the country like Absaroka County, WY, you have to worry about the number of murders and the risk posed to everyday residents of it. But at least they've got a lawman on their side who'll make sure that those who disturb that corner of the woods pay for it. And not to sound too callous, but as long as these books keep being that entertaining, I can live with the hit to the census.

After forcing Walt Longmire into an unfamiliar town for the duration of The Dark Horse, Craig Johnson returns his beloved sheriff to Absaroka County, Wyoming for Junkyard Dogs, a novel that brings back the outlandish characters and intricately plotted mystery that Johnson does best.

A severed thumb is discovered in a junkyard and that thumb leads to murder. While Walt is unraveling this, he also has to deal with octogenarian romance, a deputy who has gone gun-shy and wants to resign, a second-in-command who has a hankering for a home and a raise, and squabbles between the developer of an upscale subdivision and the owner of the town's landfill. Not to mention, the denizens of Absaroka are up to their usual antics and wisecracks, and Walt's longtime friend and first Indian, Henry Standing Bear, has gone wedding planner for Walt's daughter's upcoming nuptials.

This is the sort of book that only Craig Johnson can pull off.

I've long been a fan of Johnson's writing, where the quips come fast and free and the simplest of phrases are given a clever literary spin that turns them to a sort of open-range poetry. Junkyard Dogs feels much lighter than Johnson's last two books (Another Man's Moccasins and The Dark Horse) and his writing feels much looser and more confident, as if he's already established Walt and company as action heroes and now can show more of their personalities as they interact with each other, rather than outside forces. He paints vivid pictures of Absaroka County, especially the...unique...inhabitants of the fictional Wyoming prairie town. With Johnson's books, it's the setting that makes the books unique, but the characters that make it irresistible. We are introduced to a bevy of they who comprise Absaroka County (including the sports store owner who had no problems selling a gun and shells to a man in a fluffy bathrobe), and of course, Vic Moretti continues to curse her way into our hearts and Lucian makes his presence known. However, with this trip through the county, Johnson lets us into his deputy, Sancho's, life more than he has in the past and through this, Johnson only enhances the canvas from which he works.

The Dark Horse read like an episode of the Lone Ranger, packed with action and sleuthing. Junkyard Dogs doesn't quite go whole hog for the action, which is actually a good thing because it's the characters being themselves that make Johnson's books must-reads. After I finished reading, my initial reaction was that this might have been his best book yet. It's hard to top the back-and-forth plotting of Another Man's Moccasins or the sheer stark beauty of Death Without Company, but somehow, Junkyard Dogs feels more accessible for people who might not have spun through Absaroka yet, but doesn't lose anything for those of us who can't wait to get back there.

Definitely a five-star read. Do yourself a favor and pick up a copy. You'll read it in a single sitting and then email Craig nasty letters asking why we have to wait a whole year for the next installment of Walt and Company.