70 Books Like Before She Disappeared

I have to confess that I discovered these books after watching the TV series Department Q. As soon as I saw "Based on the books by Jussi Adler-Olsen," I knew I had to read them.

The books differ significantly from the TV show. For one thing, they are set in Copenhagen, not Scotland. But the dark humour and clever plots are still the same. In this, the first of the series, Carl Morck—who is recovering from an incident where two of his colleagues were shot—is made the head of Department Q, looking into cold cases.

His first case is the disappearance of a politician who we know is still alive, but no one—apart from Morck—is looking for him anymore, assuming he fell off a ferry.

I’ve recommended this book so many times.

I loved the premise of Listen for a Lie. Lucy has amnesia about the night Savvy died. She goes back to the town they grew up in to try and solve her best friend’s murder, even though she might be the one who did it. Throw in a couple of podcasters obsessed by cold cases and some dark humour, and I am HOOKED. It made me laugh—and gasp—out loud.

Lucy is smart, sarcastic, and possibly murderous. Is it wrong that I could relate to her?

I read this while recuperating from an operation, and it was the pick-me-up I needed.

What starts off as a current missing person’s case becomes an investigation into a cold case as it comes to light that the two cases could be linked. The sleuths in this case are retired spies, The Martini Club, and they are such a fun group of characters. It’s the second book of Tess Gerritsen’s to feature this cast of characters, and they have skills to outdo the local police chief, Jo—and occasionally get in her way.

This is a brilliantly plotted book with a fascinating protagonist.

It’s fair to say that Cam Killick has issues stemming from his time in the Marines. He starts looking into a decades-old case of a family who went missing on the way back from a party. It was widely accepted that their car had probably crashed into the marshes and had lain there for thirty years. But when Cam finds the car, the remains of the family are nowhere to be found.

This is another author I read religiously, and the connection between Spenser and Hawk is one of the primary reasons why. But this book has stayed with me in a way the others haven’t because of the dramatic way Parker clarified the difference between these two characters in one of the most impactful closing scenes in the entire series.

Parker’s Spenser is a reliable tough guy with a good heart. A former soldier and heavyweight boxer, he tends to make short work of anyone foolish enough to fight him. But in Small Vices, he is shot by the villainous Gray Man and left for dead. After he’s discharged from the hospital, Spenser has to readjust to a gravely weakened body as he struggles to physically and mentally recover from his wounds.

This journey brings a new level of emotional depth to the series and lends added resonance to round two with the Gray Man, during which Spenser describes himself as Lazarus, “back from the grave to tell all.”

Like Paretsky’s V. I. and Grafton’s Kinsey Milhone, six-foot, former police officer and intrepid Boston P.I. Carlotta Carlyle is dogged, street smart, and tough while navigating the vagaries of big city corruption and big money influence.

She is bored by her desk job undercover assignment investigating fraud in Boston’s Big Dig construction project. She craves the action that I, as a reader, want to see her undertake. I hope this is also the type of character I have created in my book.

Robert B. Parker’s Cold Service is one of my favorite Spenser novels because it provides more insight into the character Hawk. Hawk is in the hospital, three bullets in his back from trying to protect a bookie from the Ukrainian mob. The Ukrainians are spreading their turf from NYC to the Boston area (a town called Marshport). Spenser comes to the rescue, and the two men take on the impossible task of defeating the Ukrainian mob and their Afghani heroine-dealing overlords while avenging Hawks shooting. Alone, Hawk can’t deal with the thought of showing weakness and Spencer ponders his mortality. Together Spenser and Hawk appear to be invincible. Their code allows them to engage in brutality and come out as likable characters. The way in which Parker spins a tale using simple dialogue is ingenious. His main characters Spenser, Hawk, and Susan Silverman are a joy to get to know… show more.

As great as it was, Eddie Coyle didn’t leave much of a cultural footprint, at least not until the movie adaptation starring Robert Mitchum was rediscovered decades after its initial release. Robert B. Parker’s Spenser is another matter entirely, having spawned nearly 40 novels by Parker, another 10 by Ace Atkins, a popular ‘80s TV series, and a Netflix movie starring Mark Walhberg. Picking just one of the durable shamus’s adventures is a daunting task, but I’ll give the nod to Ceremony for its evocation of the seedy seventies Combat Zone (Boston’s long-gone red light district) and the murky morality of Spenser’s dealings with a teen runaway turned sex worker.

Early Autumn made me cry from two directions. As a tween, reading about Spenser’s rescue of Paul, a shut-down, emotionally neglected boy that Spenser first assesses as “an unlovely little bastard”, I cried in sympathy and relief for Paul.

Over a summer, Spenser taught him skills, built up his strength and gave him the confidence to find his own dreams, before leaving him at the doorway to the life he now knew he wanted. As an adult, I cried with joy for Spenser, who connected with a stranger, taught what he had to teach, and changed a life.

Really helping someone in a lasting way is rarely so easy as it was in this book, but it’s a worthwhile dream and this Cinderella story gets me every time.