Stumptown Or How I Learned To Forget Rockford Files And Embrace Dex Parios

I grew up in the Seventies, when every other show on network television was about a private investigator or cop. Cannon, Barretta, Police Woman, Mannix,  and of course the best of them all, The Rockford Files. This explains why I have an affection for these stories, even as I creak past my mid fifties. Which brings us to Stumptown.

Stumptown would have been a great Seventies PI show. All the components are there: a private investigator who is as quick with the quips as she is down on her luck. A vintage car. A heart of gold hidden beneath scars of cynicism and bad experiences. And, most important of all, the genetic ability to get into situations waaaay over her head and paygrade.

This volume, which covers The Case of The Girl Who Took Her Shampoo (But Left Her Mini), introduces us to Dexedrine Parios, a private investigator who likes to gamble a bit too much. In hock to a local casino, she is forced to take a job finding the granddaughter of the casino's boss. Of course, it isn't as easy as it may sound. Dex runs into a few complications, many of which leave contusions with  promises of more to come. What should have been a simple job quickly turns into a shit show, with Dex doing her best to survive it.

The true strength of crime fiction is character. Writer Greg Rucka excels at this, especially with Dex. Her lack of impulse control is an interesting twist on the trope of the private investigator, coupled with her need to protect and care for her family. Dex is no angel, but she's trying.

The supporting cast is briefly introduced here, including a challenged brother and various contacts on the police force. The hints of back story don't automatically qualify Dex for sainthood, let's say.

The core mystery itself is fine, a basic missing persons case that of course is more than that. It's a decent framework to hang the main impetus of this story, which is to introduce Dex to new readers. Rucka handles that well, showing us the world Dex careens around, from the quiet domesticity of her home, her comfort with seedy bars and glitzy casinos,  to the long hours spent in her aging Mustang, watching out her side window on stake outs. It's a comforting read, with Matthew Southworth's artwork capturing the dirty and sordid atmosphere quite well.

I love these types of stories, and Stumptown reminds me why.