“The Cold Dish (Walt Longmire, #1)”

“I want to solve a mystery. Just once in my life. A real whodunit. A whahappened? A Howsitwhatsit?

But it’s not in the cards for me, as evidenced in two ways by this book.

Way number one: I have no crimefighting nor crimesolving abilities.

Way number two: I was so unobservant that I read the end 30% or so of this book on an airplane at 2 AM. Because I booked a flight that left at midnight rather than noon because that whole “Midnight is the AM thing,” which we stick to as a people even though I think we all agree that A) AM means morning and B) Midnight is not morning.

It’s a pretty good argument for military time.

Anyway, I don’t even have the powers of observation that prevent me from pulling into my apartment’s parking lot at 6 AM. So there’s no way in hell I’m going to solve a mystery. Well, other than “Does it suck to get on a plane at 12:55 AM?” Answer: yes. Pretty much totally .”