Book Review: Murder on the Red River by Marcie R. Rendon
Renee “Cash” Blackbear hasn’t seen her mother or brother since the accident when her mother drunkenly put their car in the ditch. Bundled into the foster care system for over a decade, Cash doesn’t even know if they’re still alive. An adult (just barely) in the eyes of the world, Cash spends her days hauling produce for the farmers of the Red River Valley, and her nights hustling pool tables.
When a native man from the Red Lake reservation turns up dead on the banks of the river, Cash discovers that she knows more about him than she logically should, waking visions coming to her. She agrees to help Sheriff Wheaton, the one adult who’s ever seemed to actually care about her, with the case by visiting the reservation.
Cash doesn’t know that by unraveling this murder, she’s also going to learn more about herself and what she’s truly capable of.
This book is set during the Vietnam War, though that conflict doesn’t directly affect the events. The important part is that it’s before the passage of the Indian Child Welfare Act of 1978, which changed the policies of the foster care system in America. Before then, it was usual for Native American children taken into the foster care system to be placed with white families and denied contact with their relatives or their culture. This has had a strong impact on Cash’s personality and habits.
Our just-out-of-high-school protagonist smokes heavily, drinks beer more than is good for her, and is carrying on an affair with a married man. Her plans don’t really extend past getting through the next winter.
This changes to some extent as the case unravels, as Cash learns that her visions are valid and important, reconnects with some of her heritage, and Sheriff Wheaton pressures her to try college.
The murder plotline itself is more “crime” than “mystery”; Cash stumbles onto clues more than she uses her brains. It looks like this is the beginning of a series, though–she might get more detective-like in future volumes. There’s also a strong possibility that background elements left hanging here will be important later.
Content note: As one might expect, there’s period racism (though sometimes well meant) and a dollop of period sexism. Cash indulges in extramarital sex and there’s some strong language.
Recommended to those who like #ownvoices literature, and people with an interest in Western Minnesota.
