Now that I’ve completed work on Reflection in the Shadows, I’ve retuned my attention to the next novel in the Vasily Korsokovach Investigates series. Tentatively titled Silenced, it literally begins just as Vas returns to California after making an unexpected trip back to Maine for Thanksgiving. Since at the time of my writing this entry Belie had yet to be published, I’m going to tactfully ignore the reasons behind that sudden trip other than to say Sean Colbeth was extremely appreciative of his best friend’s efforts.
Instead, let’s talk a bit about this strange case Vasily picks up nearly as soon as he walks out of LAX. I’m not entirely certain where the idea for this particular story came from; often, I’ll run across a news article or some other tidbit in life that my writer brain will seize upon and then spin into something nefarious, but in this case, I think it was far simpler than that. My brother and I occasionally commute into Tucson together when our schedules happen to align, and as part of that, on the days when he drives, it’s often easier for him to drop me off at the streetcar stop that’s closest to his office instead of fighting the downtown traffic to get to campus. I love the streetcar anyway, as it’s a gentle little cruise past all of the scenic landmarks our little city has to offer.
I’ve ridden it so often over the years that I’ve watched as Tucson has slowly changed along the route; the downtown area that was once a wasteland of empty office space is now a vibrant corridor brimming with mixed-use scenarios including a number of massive high-rise housing complexes. Unsurprisingly, most of those buildings house students attending the UA, but there are growing pockets of year round residents — especially close to the stop where I catch the streetcar. The large empty dirt lot that used to be parking has nearly disappeared there, replaced by multiple condo complexes that cater to seniors or first-time homeowners.
One of the last parts of that dirt parking lot sprouted a chain link fence last fall, the first sign that the final building was about to begin construction. It wasn’t long before the piles of lumber appeared, and then the massive excavation to put in the footings; each time I went by on the streetcar, I tried to figure out what was new, or guess what part of the project would take place next. The sheer amount of construction materials that were piled high next to the site boggled my mind, though, and despite the months that went by, never seemed to really get all that depleted. My logical brain understood that only meant what was being used was likely getting replaced in short order, but visually, it seemed at odds with the building that was rising out of nothing.
On one particular morning, construction traffic forced the streetcar to pause far longer than normal on the street running parallel to the new building; I had an extended amount of time to take in the miniature lumber yard, and for the first time noticed the tiny little shack hanging out in the far corner. As I squinted at it, I began to weave a backstory for the building — and the person who must have been occupying it. Though not ideal in size, I figured it had to be the office for the construction supervisor and then wondered a bit at the sort of hell it had to be to keep such a project on time (and, presumably, on budget). Eying the stacks of lumber surrounding the small shack, I thought about the Operations class I’d taken in college, and the challenges of tracking such disparate pieces of inventory as they moved through the construction pipeline. Did they use barcodes? RFID tags? Maybe the construction workers had tablets that allowed them to sign off on each item they used that day, allowing their supervisor to do some sort of just-in-time thing at scale.
Looking back at the shell of the building, I was struck by stories I’d heard of how construction took place in larger cities like New York or Boston — and the amount of, shall we say, horse trading that took place to get such projects done. Of how shady real estate firms often worked with even shadier financing that had truly deadly terms with respect to nonpayment. My eyes went back to the lumber and as my brain began to do the math, the initial kernel of the story that has become Silenced was born.
I won’t say much more other than to add that this story gave me a chance to dive a bit more into the world of investigative journalism; a good friend at the office who once worked in that field has kindly acted as a resource for me, patiently answering just about every strange question I’ve asked. Both Vas and I were looking for an intriguing challenge that would showcase his impressive abilities, and I think I’ve crafted something completely different than any of his previous adventures. Throw in some additional development of Alex’s own story, mix in Sean’s wildly messed up personal life and sprinkle in some visits to the pool in Rosie’s solarium and we’ve got another wonderful addition to the series in the works.
More details to follow, including updates as I progress on this latest book.
Just a reminder: I’ll be at the 2025 Tucson Festival of Books on March 15. If you’ll be in town, swing by my booth at the Independent Author Pavilion from 10a-1p, or sit in on my panel at 1pm at the Student Union. Complete details are on the TFOB website.
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