Amazon.com Review
A 50-year-old hate crime puts acting deputy sheriff Billy Tree in the sights of a man who won't stop at murder to keep his role in it a secret. Tree, the former Secret Service agent who made his debut in Wiltse's bestselling
Heartland, has come home to the small Nebraska town where he was raised, a place where he's still remembered as a star athlete and revered as a hero. Nothing much ever happens in Falls City, so when a mysterious black man appears in a town where that's a rare occurrence, and then a hangman's noose and a photograph of the lynching of Lawton Collins turn up in his own mailbox, Billy goes looking for the connection. He finds it in the last places he ever expected: his own family history and the bed of the woman he loves.
The Hangman's Knot is a strong, suspenseful thriller with a complex and fascinating protagonist whose auspicious return might signal a compelling new series for its accomplished author.
--Jane Adams
From Publishers Weekly
Wiltse's brooding 12th novel veers between thriller set pieces and oracular social commentary. At the start of his first adventure (Heartland, 2001), battered Secret Service agent Billy Tree exiled himself to his native Nebraska, where, as deputy sheriff, he dealt with more crime than he had bargained for. Now the solemn Tree is (vainly) hoping once more to live the simple life. Naturally, there's trouble aplenty in little Falls City, though of the smalltown variety: two-timing women, busted-up cars, a dead dog and, most iniquitous by far, a lynching, long-buried but whispered about in town folklore. Murky flashbacks provide a progressively more detailed picture of the awful crime from generations ago. In the present, someone anonymously leaves Billy a small hangman's noose, repeating the gesture more than once. This and the sudden arrival of strapping black Odette Collins (a long-forgotten high school sports rival) give Billy more than pause. Ostensibly a thriller, Wiltse's novel clearly aims at something deeper, with only partial success. The dour, stubborn Billy is not the most engaging or empathetic hero. Many scenes are followed by Billy's lengthy (and unintegrated) pondering of his feelings, motives and prejudices. Aesthetics aside, such self-absorption is not the same thing as depth nor does it serve to win over the reader. Similarly, Wiltse can't resist bald lecturing when persuasive storytelling would be more effective. He does better with mood and local color, incisively capturing the rhythms and details of rural life.
Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.