This unusual PI thriller reads like a cross between Agatha Christie and the Hunger Games. Kate Weller is a private detective in Savannah, Georgia, who is wondering whether her Italian chef boyfriend should give up the family restaurant and become a PI. They get invited to a work team building break on a luxury island retreat off the Georgia coastline. This is about to become the ISLAND OF LAST RESORTS.
I hadn’t read the earlier books in this Kate Weller series. Mainly we take away the feeling that Kate is welcome in the family of Eric Manfredi, even if she can’t cook. Next, we meet the six people – three couples – from the Price Agency, who head off gaily to the island over twenty miles from shore on a private yacht. Kate and Eric are not among the group. Due to a family member’s accident, Eric has been delayed. Missing the boat means the couple stay in the shore village, increasingly baffled as to why nobody fetches them, and no other boat can be hired to travel to the private island.
Meanwhile, on the island, matters are going from bad to worse. The five-star treatment soon becomes a requirement to resolve a cold case, with no way to contact the mainland, and heavily armed guards… and possibly abducted people too.
The challenges and stakes keep rising and the overgrown island holds many dangers. The reader had better be ready to suspend some disbelief, not least at the past behaviour of the legal system. But if someone did want to solve a case, setting a team of private detectives loose on it might not be a bad idea. Now, Sue Grafton it’s not. Mary Ellis is writing a contrived and knotty tale of human frailty, personal tragedy and active revenge. The PIs are entirely human; they bemoan the lack of cell service and wi-fi at once, and keep complaining that they miss being able to research on the internet. Some of the team are spouses, not qualified detectives, but they provide a good variety of talents. The language is restrained, I was pleased to note.
Mary Ellis may be better known to you as the author of wonderful Amish romances, like Love Comes To Paradise and A Plain Man, both of which I enjoyed. I’m delighted to see her spread her wings further. ISLAND OF LAST RESORTS, once it takes off, proceeds at a breakneck pace and shows the dangerous side of life; it couldn’t be more different.
Nate glanced around the table at everyone’s expressions. Izzy and Nicki looked terrified. Beth looked confused, while Hunter appeared furious. When Nate exchanged glances with Michael, even his level-headed forensic accountant seemed just as uncomfortable as he felt. It didn’t seem like the five people were acting. ‘When will we hear the details of this cold-case murder?’ he asked. ‘So far, we have the possible suspects and potential clues, but we have no crime.’
Once the door closed behind the guards and actors, Frazier walked back to the group. ‘That will come next.’ Their host lanced at his watch. ‘But it’s dreadfully late now, so I will reveal details of the murder tomorrow at breakfast. Shall we meet here again, say at eight o’clock?’
Following a murmur of discontent around the table, Nate rose to his feet. ‘Excuse me, sir, but we have a few concerns. Our cell phones don’t seem to work here on the island.’
‘Of course, they don’t work,’ snapped Frazier. ‘We’re too far from the cell towers on the mainland. But there’s a working telephone in every guest’s room. The landline phone cable runs underwater.’
Nate nodded. ‘Thank you, sir, but could you please ask your maintenance man to unlock the doors to our patio? It would be nice to have coffee outside in the morning.’
‘By all means,’ Frazier said, exchanging a glance with Creery. ‘I’ll see that it’s done first thing in the morning.’
Hunter stood and helped Nicki to her feet. ‘We don’t feel comfortable having the windows in our room nailed shut, just in case of an emergency.’
Frazier’s eyes narrowed. ‘Jumping from your window would be far more dangerous than exiting down the hall, then the staircase, and out the front door. This house is equipped with sprinklers in the unlikely event of a fire. It’s hard to believe, but we’ve had numerous break-ins on the island, hence our heightened security measures. If there’s nothing else . . .’ He started for the door.
‘One more thing,’ said Nate. ‘My other investigator, Kate, and her boyfriend, Eric, wish to join the retreat either tomorrow night or on Monday. Could you send your yacht back to pick them up on St Simons?’
‘It would be my pleasure. I will speak to my yacht captain. Perhaps Captain Burke can more easily get ahold of them and set up a time to meet.’
‘Thank you, Mr Frazier, for the lovely dinner . . . and everything else,’ Nate added.
‘You’re welcome, Mr Price, agents.’ With that, their host disappeared through the double doors, leaving them alone with an array of dirty dishes and uneaten desserts.
‘Well, this was an interesting evening,’ said Beth, rising to her feet.
‘See everyone in the morning.’ Michael guided Beth toward the door.
‘The food certainly was delicious,’ Izzy concluded, always the peacemaker.
‘Yes, it was,’ said Hunter, but I think it’s time we retired for the evening too. He wrapped his arm firmly around his wife’s waist.
‘Good night, everyone,’ Nicki squeaked. Indeed, she looked downright green around the gills.
Halfway to the door, Hunter stopped and turned. ‘Did you mention to Frazier what Kate and Eric’s last names were?’
‘Yeah, he requested the names of my agents and spouses after I accepted his invitation.’ After he and Izzy were the only ones left in the dining room, Nate asked, ‘Would you like me to carry your dessert upstairs?’
‘No, I’ve eaten enough for one day.’ Izzy peered up with her luminous green eyes. ‘What do you think, sweetie? Have we landed on Fantasy Island or checked into Bates Motel?’
‘Come on, Izzy, we’re all overtired. This might not be what we expected, but the retreat will be fine. Just wait and see.’
Only Nate didn’t really believe that. Not for one minute.
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