Review of “A Skeleton in Bone Creek” by Baer Charlton

Score: 90/100 (9.0 out of 10)

A Skeleton in Bone Creek by Baer Charlton is a detective mystery & crime drama following special agent Nash “Running Bear” of the FBI's Special Investigations in Special Operations division, a fiery military veteran (US Marine) of Native-American descent.

In this specific book, the first in the series, Nash finds herself entangled in a case that grows from the discovery of a single skeleton submerged in a limewater pool (the titular Bone Creek). This mystery then snowballs into a possible serial-homicidal/serial-killer investigation as skeletons are similarly found in various locations—dozens of them—many showing signs of being victims of the same perpetrator(s) including missing parts and potentially having been moved.

Adding to the depth of the mystery is the unique stage of decay /preservation that the skeletons are found in due to the conditions of the water including temperature, alkalinity, and the presence of lime that apparently helps to replace the degraded calcium of the original remains similar to a fossil. Furthermore, many of the skeletons are found to be military service men/woman and/or of Native American descent, making this a particularly personal mission for Nash.'

Nash is joined on her investigative quest by her wife, Mina, the talkative Cindy Lou Brady of the sketchy Harkin County Sheriff's Department; the wise uncle simply known as “Uncle” and his sniffer dog, Powder. She receives further help and tips from various people with various skills and experiences along the way from law enforcement to photographers to environmentalists and even epidemiologists.

Oh, yeah, and Tom Brady is in this, or at least someone with the same name and pretty much the exact same background. That had to have been one of the many inside jokes that the reader may or may not get.

This book attempts to provide representation of both Native Americans and military veterans. Ironically, the latter was the topic of the book we'd read just before this, Hiring Veterans by Matthew Louis. Come to think of it, Harry Taylor from Deadly Game by Michael Caine—another book we read this season—also featured a hardened military veteran who turned to law enforcement to continue their fight for good.

So, how does Nash the Running Bear size up against a comparable character like Harry Taylor. On one hand, you could say that Nash is a bit more down to earth. Well, except for the apparent ESP/Native-American-magic-prophetic-vision-powers she kinda has. But there's something that didn't quite sit right about Nash or a lot of the characters. She kinda seems... forced or contrived. It's almost as if the author wrote her to be this uber-woman. No, not “Uber” like the rideshare company, uber as in OP (overpowered). She really does come across like a Mary Sue at times. She just inexplicably knows things. She always seems to be at just the right place at the right time to find just the right hint or clue.

The other thing that's a bit unsettling or off about Mary, the other characters, and this book in general is that it can't seem to decide on a tone. These are very serious topics/subject matters. We're dealing with profound tragedy, death, homicide, violent murders, families left without answers, families torn apart, people robbed of their future, dignity, and lives; bodies mutilated, human remains desecrated, etc.

That's some deep, nasty, disturbing, and sad stuff! And yet... this book seems so... comedic and funny. Should it be?

We already mentioned the Tom Brady inside-joke. Well, there's a bit more comedic relief in here like that. In fact, this book almost seems childlike and playful. Look at the style of the font. Pay attention to the way the characters joke, tease each other, and react in such animated, cartoonish ways (like screwing up their faces or furling their lips/mouths). It's kinda bizarre how little that fits the circumstances that the characters are in.

We're not saying that ever y moment of a story needs to be super-dire and super-serious, but you'd expect there to be some consistency. There's a part of us that kinda thinks this is an unintentional comedy.

Take this character introduction for example:

“Mandy, this is Uncle. Not your uncle or my uncle or anyone’s uncle—just everyone’s uncle. You might say he’s kind of slutty in an uncle sort of way.”

Yeah, that's kinda funny, but should we really be laughing?

The body-count rises exponentially while the characters are having lighthearted, playful banter like this. First there's one body, then there's two bodies, then there's 17 bodies plus one unidentified, then all of a sudden there are 48 bodies!

Ok, they're skeletons not full bodies, but the point remains—they're... remains. See, we can make somewhat inappropriate puns too.

Then, there's this somewhat awkward, seemingly forced relationship between Nash and Mina. We commend the LGBTQA+ representation to an extent. However, Mina just pops out of the page as Nash's wife like it's supposed to be some kind of virtue signaling “gotcha” surprise in the opening pages. It kinda reminded us of that awkward scene in Doctor Who when the reptile alien lady (Vastra) just shows up, introduces herself, and just bluntly introduces the human behind her, saying, “And THIS is my wife...” It just seemed so... manufactured and unearned. It didn't help like that woman (Jenny in Doctor Who and Mina in this book) just seemed more like a sidekick, afterthought, or even a bit of a pet.

It was the same kinda feeling. It just didn't feel right.

It doesn't help that the characters keep calling themselves things like “Mama” and “Secret Squirrel” which you'd think would come across as cute (people who love each other do make nicknames/pet names for each other), but—again—it doesn't fit the tone of the other things going on in the book. This is more like baby talk.

Things like this make it challenging to take these very serious and very dark subject matters seriously. Again, we should not be laughing. We should be smiling. We should not be thinking “aww, how cute” or “aww, how sweet.” We should be going, “OMG! Look at the boooooones!!! Those poor people!” or “We need to stop the culprit before they kill again! It's life or death!”

That seems lost in the midst of all the jokes, humor, and baby talk.

Like, maybe since this was the first book in the series, the narrative probably should've built up their relationship, developing it until it led to marriage. Maybe have Mina meet Nash and cheer her up or comfort her when she's having war flashbacks or something. Maybe let them go to dinner or have a few encounters first, don't just introduce them as an item—especially a married item—within the first few pages of the very first book in the series. That just seems so unearned. Like, neither the characters or the reader had to work for it.

Imagine if in Rocky, Adrian and Rocky were already together at the start of the movie, in the very first movie of the series. Wouldn't that seem a bit off? A bit rushed? A bit unearned? That robs the impact of the closing scene of Rocky because so much of their relationship would've happened off-screen.

It's the same here.

Then there's Cindy, who is irritating and seems to waste a lot of page time chatting. In fact, a lot of this book just seems a bit too chatty. Yes, dialogue is a great literary tool, but it often seems like these characters meander. They outstay and overstay their welcome. They just keep talking and talking and talking. Meanwhile, the plot meanders. It seems to be stuck in a rut for the middle portion, and there was a part of us that just wanted us to move on from this conversation or that conversation—to just get back to moving the plot along.

Again, this is a book about freakin' skeletons of freakin' dead, innocent victims being discovered with a likely culprit still at large! Yet, the feeling we get isn't serious, pressing, or urgent. It's so relaxed, so light, so... nonchalant.

There's also Powder, the dog, who is cute and all, but who really seems superfluous.

This might really be a case of a very incredible author having an amazing concept/idea, but just trying to accomplish too much at once. There was no reason this first book in the series needed to be so bloated. There's putting your best foot forward, then there's throwing everything but the kitchen sink into one basket that's already full of eggs. It's kinda overwhelming.

Now, with all that said, this is still a solid or good book. Again, the premise is phenomenal. It's inspired. It's meaningful and deep.

There are also incredible “aha” moments like when it's discovered that there's something wrong with the pelvis of one of the skeletons or that the injury to one of the skeleton's arms seems to suggest they were once a baseball player. There's also a moment of misidentification—either due to negligence or intentional tampering.

There's also representation of (and discussions of) Native Americans and an LGBTQA+ couple in this book, which can be a positive.

All of our constructive criticisms of this are just that: constructive criticisms. This doesn't disparage the incredible person who is Baer Charlton, whose humorous and adventurous personality may have overshadowed the content of the book itself. This is someone who has spent time with big, exciting, and sometimes even dangerous animals for much of his life—a real adventurer! Charlton might just be someone who is incapable of writing a simple, straight-forward, linear story due to these big, grand, epic experiences.

Check it out on Amazon!