It helps to be jaded when reading THAT LEFT TURN AT ALBUQUERQUE. Scott Phillips definitely makes his own rules when writing his novels, which are full of characters who might cause you to lose what little faith you still have in humanity. In his latest book, Phillips is merely pointing out that it is not outside the realm of possibility that groups of people might haphazardly assemble for selfish and nefarious purposes, and none of them are worth the gunpowder to shoot them. Remember what your parents told you about the evil of bad companions? They are all right here in this morality tale, seen through a lens darkly.

Douglas Rigby, a Southern California attorney, has misappropriated a six-figure sum from his dying client, former television executive Glenn Haskill, in the hopes of using it to prime the well for a major cocaine deal. The plan is to buy the coke, sell it at an obscene profit, slip the “loan” back into Glenn’s account, and pay off Rigby’s own mortgage, which is seriously in arrears. It all goes wrong, of course, so much so that you’re screaming at the page “DON’T DO IT!” before you have even finished the first chapter. Rigby’s wife, Paula, isn’t happy, and it really doesn’t look good when a real estate agent like her defaults on her own mortgage.

"Phillips tells a heck of a story and throws in a bushel of dazzling writing in the process. I highlighted all sorts of passages and phrases throughout the novel, some of which are hilarious and a couple of which are poignant."

But Rigby isn’t deterred --- desperation does that to a person --- so he embarks on a scheme that involves Glenn (again) and art forgery. There are all sorts of obstacles, some of which are of Rigby’s own creation (his girlfriend, who is the widow of his deceased law partner), and others who are outside his sphere of control. The latter group would include Jerry, Glenn’s nephew and sole heir, who is part of a de facto death watch so that he can acquire Glenn’s whole kit-and-kaboodle, which he ever so desperately needs. The problem for both Rigby and Jerry is that Glenn isn’t cooperating with their respective timetables. Rigby doesn’t want him dying too soon, and Jerry doesn’t feel that he can die soon enough.

Glenn has a mind of his own when it comes to his demise. Just when it seems that he is about to sing a solo in the choir invisible, he shows signs of renewed life. Jerry, meanwhile, is an irritating scold, nattering away at Rigby, who is merely crooked and guilty of malpractice and misfeasance. It can’t end well, and it doesn’t, but it could have been worse. And the book, from beginning to end, is entertaining as all get-out.

Characters notwithstanding, Phillips tells a heck of a story and throws in a bushel of dazzling writing in the process. I highlighted all sorts of passages and phrases throughout the novel, some of which are hilarious and a couple of which are poignant. What you won’t know unless you read the book is that it is full of turns of phrase that you will want to remember long after you reach the last page. And you will.

It’s not always easy. Phillips tosses characters into the narrative with abandon and throws them out just as quickly, but keep reading. It all makes sense and is worth the effort. And hey, do you remember every person you come in contact with every day? Heck no. You’ll sort it out. You won’t forgive yourself, though, if you miss THAT LEFT TURN AT ALBUQUERQUE.