Publication Date September 5, 2023

Back in 2019, when reviewing William Kent Krueger’s This Tender Land, I called it  “…a terrific adventure story on its own,” plus a story of  “…orphans’ search for family and home and the history of Native American exploitation.” Quite a lot going on in my first experience reading Krueger. Then, in 2021,  I read and reviewed Lightning Strike, the prequel to Krueger’s Cork O’Connor series, calling it  “ a fine mystery, as well as a coming of age novel.” It also included “… a good hard look at what life in general and the justice system in particular were like for Native Americans in the early to mid-1960s.” Both were solid four-star books for me, so I was happy to receive Krueger’s latest, The River We Remember, described in the publisher’s blurb as a “complex, spellbinding mystery and a masterful portrait of midcentury American life.”

Set again in Minnesota in the 1950s, this terrific standalone mystery once again tells a great story as well as bringing out the reality about how Native Americans have been treated. The story begins with the discovery of a half-naked body floating in the Alabaster River. As Sheriff Brody Dern examines the scene, for some unknown reason (to be revealed later), he removes all the fingerprints and any other obvious evidence that might reveal the source of the shotgun blast that killed what turns out to be the very wealthy landowner Jimmy Quinn.

“In life, Quinn was a man Brody had never much cared for. In death, he was a man Brody was beginning to hate.” Later, Brody admits he “felt like a coward for not having taken Quinn down himself.” Brody returned to Minnesota a war hero who is clearly a loner: referring to his Deputy, “…Brody didn’t think of him as a friend. In truth, Brody had few of those…Brody felt empty most of the time.”  

The people of the town are quick to come to conclusions: before Quinn’s autopsy is done, rumors are flying about Noah Bluestone, who has two strikes against him: not only is local Native American, he returned from the war with a Japanese wife. Noah is charged with Quinn’s murder, but refuses to defend himself. He recognizes he is a total outsider as he begins to have chats in his cell with local newspaperman Wicklow: “I’m Dakota. Sioux, yes, but Dakota Sioux. Other Sioux are Lakota or Nakota. There are differences, but to white people it’s all the same…what happens when you show you’re Indian? You get called all kind of names. You get beat up maybe. Hell, you even get arrested for murder. There’s hatred in a lot of hearts here.””

This is beautifully written, and is one of my favorite types of books: there is a mystery that keeps the reader turning pages, wanting to know WTF happened, and at the same time, as the story unfolds there is a boatload of history (not always pleasant) that reminds the reader of the sad reality of what has been done to good people throughout the growth of the U.S.

I’m recommending this to my book clubs, friends who love mysteries, friends who love any good story, and…well pretty much everyone. I had a suspicion about who killed Quinn and why, but as usual I didn’t see several of the twists coming. I love when that happens. Five stars.