
The Old Gray Wolk is a pretty simple tale. A sleazy drifter is wandering through Southern Colorado and snatches a purse from a lady coming out of a supermarket. Moon and his best friend, Granite Creek Poice Chief Scott Parris are headed back for their car when they hear the lady scream. Scott may be a bit too old to chase down the younger perp so he grabs a can of peas and does his best Crocodile Dundee and brings down the thief with a strike to the head, but then an unfortunate landing on a curb accidently kills the kid . . .
. . . who happens to be the only son of the widow of a Chicago mob boss. And she wants revenge. Wants these two cops to suffer.
Now this was an interesting plotline that included a new-ish PI looking to make her mark in Illinois, and an old Ute lady with a coarse, sarcastic mouth. The narrative was presented in an entirely new format to anything I've read recently. It's told like an older third person telling a tale from a long time ago. The first paragraph is telling. "No; please do not ask. It would be less than charitable to explain how the unfortunate old soul got tagged with a nickname which suggests froggish features. Ninety-year-old ladies are not without vanity, and are entitled to their privacy." (about Hester "Toadie" Tillman).
I think my less than stellar opinion is related more to the timing of reading this book than it is about this book. I read Doss' leisurely story right after the latest Jack Reacher book, which was bad timing. Too bad. I'll try again.
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