"Who knows what secrets lie behind the doors of this apartment block?"
Reviewed by Clare O'Beara
Posted May 4, 2014
Mystery
Venice Beach in California is the location for this
atmospheric thriller about the residents of an apartment
building. To begin with we see Dana, pilfering the
groceries from an uninhabited apartment on a muggy summer's
day. Dana's friend Serena vanished from that apartment
mysteriously and someone might as well use her clothes and
food. If it wasn't for the spectral figures that haunt
Dana's own room, she'd be happy. FOR RENT: DANGEROUS
PARADISE is all the warning we need that life will not run
smoothly for the various inhabitants.
Serena, a single mother, is reported missing so the LAPD
eventually show up, thinking that a tenant behind on her
rent isn't a priority case. Serena's left a lot of good
stuff behind however, which Dana is clearing out for the
landlady. Dana would like to complete her journalism
course, so she tries to be helpful to the detectives.
Unfortunately they tell her Serena has been found dead.
Does she know anything of importance? And where was she
going with Serena's effects?
We next meet cynical landlady Anita; graphic artist David
in the next apartment along, who describes the building
around a central square as an 'evil fishbowl'; he lies
poorly to the cops about some Native artefacts of Serena's
that ended up in his room somehow. Then gun-owning
salesman Pete; vegetarian, clean-living paranoid Jennifer;
musician Sara who composes trashy songs about the dead
woman. The sparky, quirky characterisation is the strength
of this story with everyone having a different reaction to
the beleaguered detectives. We recede to 1968 in search
of the origins of the present-day tale, when people were
still worried about 'commies' and it wasn't cool to be
gay. On Venice Beach through the years though, 'the
parties changed but never stopped'.
Detectives Rogers and Schwartz become our guides through
this populated niche, so while we don't see much of their
lives we get to know them through everyone's responses and
their own firm lines of questioning. We have to ask
ourselves, how well do we know our neighbours, since most
of the tenants here have something to hide, and contemplate
violence when queried by officialdom. The intense ending
sequence brings a culmination of the clues and accounts,
with more firearms popping up in this apartment block than
I'd expect in an army barracks. If you haven't figured the
solution out for yourself, let Dana guess at this point and
hang on for a bumpy ride.
Eric Miller has strung a fine web between all the cast and
their rooms, what they could observe or not, who knew the
dead woman and who wanted to know her better. While the
setting can feel claustrophobic after a time, the details
are well drawn and the truths and lies hang together so
that whether you are a fan of character-based mysteries or
of police procedurals there is something for your taste.
FOR RENT, DANGEROUS PARADISE starts with a small ad and
ends with a bang.
SUMMARY
When a single mother is found murdered halfway between L.A.
and Vegas, the odd residents of the creepy apartment
building where she lived are put under the microscope by two
detectives and the woman’s neighbor, journalism student Dana
Santoyo. Set in Venice Beach, California, the story moves through the
apartment building unit by unit, chapter by chapter,
revealing each resident’s unique point-of-view and the dark,
personal secrets they’d rather keep hidden. In this beautifully eclectic, deadly world of deceit, lust
and greed the simmering rivalries and secret passions of the
interconnected group of neighbors breathe new life into a
simmering, long-forgotten Native American curse. As the body
count rises, Dana realizes that being the next target on a
killer’s list isn’t nearly as terrifying as being cornered
by a haunted past.
Excerpt~ Prologue ~During a long, lustrous summer centuries before any European
dared name the place Santa Monica Bay, two rivals searched
for completely different prey along the virgin coastal
marshland. Vantu closed in on a musky smelling mule deer he had spent
the last hour tracking through the lush green reeds. His
smooth bronze skin glistened under the baking sun as the
rutting beast finally stopped at a small watering hole.
The proud warrior hunter from the inland Tongva tribe
silently raised his best, sturdiest flint spear for the
kill. Behind him, bees and several other large flying
insects swarmed around the twisted, pock marked face of
Tohi. As Vantu readied his aim, so too did Tohi. A sudden chill swept off the ocean. It carried a warning
whisper throughout the marsh. Too late, it shuddered, then
stalled over the plain of tall grass and stubby trees. Vantu's body splashed into the black, oily soil. The
startled mule deer fled the scene traumatized but
unscathed—bolting north towards a scenic haven centuries
later called Malibu. Tohi, the smug, self-entitled, heir apparent grandchild of a
local Chumash chieftain, lorded over his victim's body. In
the language of his people, a language lost in the
tumultuous human struggles that would eventually obliterate
his tribe, he muttered, "Now Kriti will be mine. Mine
alone!" Pulling his axe free from flesh and bone, he watched Vantu's
body sink slowly into the muck. He marked the grave with
only dry spit. Two years later, he returned desperate to
break the curse the object of his affection had put on him.
The powerful shaman apprentice knew what he had done, only
her proof was missing. He tried to kill her. But failed and
was banished from his tribe instead. Disfigured from a near
fatal bear attack and dying from exposure, Tohi tried to
make peace with the ghost of his rival. He failed again. He
took his last mortal breath less than fifty feet from
Vantu's body and his loveless soul seeped into the moist
earth alongside other nasty dead things. Kriti's curse took root. It slowly poisoned the soil above
both graves as centuries swept by like gusts of wind. Vantu's death remained unforgiven and Tohi's death remained
incomplete. The invisible, unmarked sinkholes of anger,
regret and longing grew wild, and stronger. Spanish and Portuguese explorers in ravenous wooden ships
began to appear in the bay. They were followed by stern
missionaries from the south who built forts and allowed the
worship of only one god. They were followed by an endless
tide of new, pale-skinned people who migrated into the area
not from the sea, or from the south, but out of the vast
emptiness to the east. The native people were swallowed up
and when there was no one left to remember, the legend of
Kriti, Vantu and Tohi was forgotten. The new people drained the marshes and built rickety wooden
homes along closely-knit streets. One of them named the
place Venice and built canals like those in its faraway
namesake city. The least fortunate of these newcomers
unknowingly built above Vantu's petrified heart and Tohi's
hollow, watchful eyes. Jealousy, greed, rage and vengeance simmered, brewed and
turned murderous time and time again. Over the years,
countless forgotten souls succumbed to a shadowy, festering
madness. Only the worst tragedies were documented. A tenement fire
that claimed the lives of a pair of unfaithful lovers, as
well as a dozen innocent children, was the very first
headline for a startup newspaper. Unfortunately, the fact
that the poorly constructed three-story building was built
directly over Vantu's unmarked grave was not included in the
report. A shootout between bootleggers and law enforcement
during the Prohibition years claimed five more lives over
Tohi's tormented resting place. But that story too was only
partially reported. During the scrap metal years of the Thirties and Forties,
black gold was found in the area and new oil derricks sprang
up everywhere. Most of the canals were filled in. Streets
were named, paved and put on maps. The growth was violent.
Especially around the area of Broadway and Electric. When
beach living in southern California became a worldwide brand
for having fun during the bobby socks optimism of the
Fifties, that corner in the neighborhood remained mired in a
silent, sour dystopia. In 1958, Vantu's and Tohi's graves were finally united
within the same property line by a low rent, two-story
apartment building located three blocks from the infamous
white sands of Venice Beach. To mention the construction
problems is unnecessary. As much of the old started being replaced with new and Jim
Morrison's wild child Sixties bled into the me-first
Seventies and Eighties, lives continued to collide to ill
avail at 399 Broadway. But in the Nineties, a calming
influence moved into the building. The violence mysteriously
subsided and hope started to flower. Unfortunately, everything soured again in the first decade
of the 21st century, when that calming influence moved away.
Bad luck, gang rivalries and drugs were often blamed for the
premature deaths in and around the humble apartment
building. But Tohi and Vantu were usually the real culprits.
Over and over, they used the living in one macabre chess
game after another. Though Vantu's vengeful spirit always intended to target the
morally despicable, his bitter, never-ending quest for
retribution more often than not caused innocent collateral
damage. Tohi fed upon any and all the misery as he grew
desperate to find someone with the power to release him from
Kriti's curse. Not long ago, he thought he finally found
that special person he was looking for. Unfortunately, she spurned him. Now, he thinks he has found another. But, if she discovers
the real truth, she may refuse to accept his plea for
forgiveness and once again Tohi's wrath will know no
bounds....
What do you think about this review?
Comments
1 comment posted.
Re: Who knows what secrets lie behind the doors of this apartment block?
I am a follower of Clare O’Beara’s book reviews and always
enjoy them. She has the ability to read and review an
amazing number of books and yet her reviews are thoughtful
and well written. She always captures the spirit of the book
and what the author is communicating. She gives the readers
just enough insight into the plot of the book to truly know
if the book is for them. In this review, I believe she has
truly captured the spirit of the book “For Rent: Dangerous
Paradise”. Readers can confidently trust a review from Ms.
O’Beara to give them a true feel for the book.
(Laura Miller 7:37pm June 24, 2014)
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