Let me start with this: I appreciate a book that doesn't mess around. Heat Lightning opens with a dead guy propped up against a veteran's memorial with a lemon in his mouth. We’re not easing into the action. We're diving headfirst. Bless you, John Sandford, for skipping the fluff.
This is the second book in the Virgil Flowers series, and I liked it even more than the first. Virgil is still rocking the rock band T-shirts and doing his laid-back, sharp-as-a-tack investigator thing. The case this time is a series of killings tied to something awful that went down during the Vietnam War. And let me tell you, this one was twisty. Almost everyone involved was shady in one way or another, and half of them weren’t even who they said they were. Just when I thought I had it figured out, someone else got shot in the head and I had to start all over. I love that.
The plot does a great job unraveling layers of secrets from the past, all while juggling political strings, former spies, and a whole lot of deception. Sandford kept the pace moving, and there were moments where I found myself saying, “Wait ... what?” in the best possible way.
Now, about those steamy scenes. Look, I get that Virgil is supposed to be the charming, easygoing type who’s never too far from some romantic entanglement. But in this case, I could’ve done without it. The sex scenes didn’t add anything to the story, didn’t deepen any character connections, and frankly, felt like filler. Not every thriller needs the HBO treatment.
Overall, Heat Lightning was a solid 4 out of 5 stars for me. Gritty crimes, a historical thread that gave the whole thing more weight, and a lead character I continue to like more with each book. Just maybe next time, less bedroom and more boardroom… or crime scene.