The Venturi Effect by Sage Webb proved to be a riveting legal procedural. Set in the beautiful island of St. Kitts and Nevis and the state of Michigan, the story follows Devlin Winters, a lawyer whose licence the bar association had suspended. She currently works as a Carny. Down on her luck, she is a far cry from the person she used to be. She had no interest in returning to the cutthroat legal world and the drama associated with the courtroom. However, when a blast from her past in form of her ex, Nils Bryson, came knocking, she was drawn back into the very world she tried to escape.
The characters whose pasts are linked proved to be interesting and complex, with my least favourite being the prosecuting attorney, Xavier Charles. I found him to be pompous and condescending. His personal interest in the case and the manner in which he handled didnโt win him any favours with the reader. The case in question was one of tax fraud, a situation to which I can relate from working in the field of taxation. The lengths persons will go evade paying taxes never cease to amaze me. This story provided some insight into those actions.
I admired Devlin. Her willingness to re-enter the world she walked away from because of the pressures she experienced to help a friend in need showed her caring nature. Her intelligence and keen sense of observation proved to be an asset to the entire chain of events. I loved how the author portrayed her vulnerabilities. Here we have a strong woman who was not afraid to admit her weaknesses and failures.
It made me happy to see Devlin and Nils coming to terms with the pain from their past, a process which brought about forgiveness and healing and led to a second chance at love.
The story began on a slow note but gradually build up as it progressed. Despite the slow start, the events had me intrigued, and I had a hard time putting the book down. It delivered a mix of suspense and romance, where the latter was served as a side dish. I had a blast with how the events unfolded and the end took me by surprise. I had many theories about the end, but none came close to the actual conclusion. I thought it ended on a wonderful note, although I had hoped that Devlin would have been the one to figure it out and sock it to the pompous and irritating Xavier Charles.
Conclusion/Recommendation
Overall, The Venturi Effect delivered a riveting tale, which would appeal to fans of legal procedurals.
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Carny
Red metal boxes lined the wood-railed tourist boardwalk, giving children access to fish food if the kids could finagle quarters from parents wilted and forlorn in the triple-digit Gulf Coast heat. With the food, kids could create great frenzies of red drum, snook, spotted sea trout, or whatever fish species gathered at the boardwalkโs pilings in agitated silver vortices. Devlin Winters lifted her ballcap and wiped a sleeve across her brow. She favored long-sleeved t-shirts for just this reasonโtheir mopping properties . . . and to protect her from the Galveston Bay sun in its unrelenting effort to grill her and the other boardwalk barkers. In the two years sheโd been on the boardwalk, sheโd never fed the fish.
A kid stopped beside one of the boxes.
โCan I have a quarter, mommy?โ the boy asked.
He looked about eight or nine, though Devlin had little interest in guessing accurately the ages of the pint-sized patrons fueling her income stream.
โIโm not sure I have one,โ the mom replied.
She appeared a bit younger than Devlin, maybe late twenties.
Once upon a time, Devlin would have looked at a mother like that and made a snide remark about crib lizards and dead ends, but nine bucks an hour in the sun makes it awfully hard for a carny to judge others. Lacking a more interesting subject, Devlin watched the woman paw through a backpack-sized purse. The chick produced a quarter and handed it to the kid, who dropped it into the boxโs payment slot and ground the dial, catching in his miniature palm a limited portion of the fish food that spilled out of the machine when he lifted the metal flap. The majority of the pellets rained down onto the wooden boardwalk planks, bounced, and disappeared through the cracks between the planks.
Devlin fancied she could hear the tiny fish-food BBs hitting brown water: plink, plink, plink. Once upon another time, when she was still at Sondheim Baker, but toward the end, she would go outside in the middle of the day. Instead of sitting at her desk, drafting appellate briefs for the Seventh Circuit, she would ride the elevator down to La Salle, down seven hundred feet of glass and stainless steel and terribly expensive architecture. She would drop down those elevator cables at random times, at times rich, successful attorneys should have been at their desks. And she would turn left out of that great glass building the color of the sky and walk over to the river, that nothing-like-the-Styx river that mankind had turned back on itself, contrary to nature.
She would stand and look down into the water, which was sometimes emerald, sometimes the color of jeans before they are ever washed. Once or twice, she had reached into her purse (expensive purses, Magnificent Mile purses from Burberry and Gucci and Hermรจs) and she had dug around until sheโd found a penny. Sheโd dropped the penny into the river and, even now, on the sauna-hot boardwalk with the whistle of the kid-sized train behind her and the pulses of unimpressive pop music overhead, she was sure she could hear those pennies hit the Chicago River, hit and sink down, down, and farther down.
Plink. Plink. Pliโ
โYou want to try this one?โ
The fish-feeding entertainment had run its course and the mother stood in front of the water-gun game Devlin guarded. She gestured toward Devlin and the row of stools in front of their narrow-barreled water guns.
โIs it hard?โ The kid looked up at his mom, and the mom turned to Devlin.
โHe can do it, right?โ she asked. โI mean, he can figure it out, right?โ
โSure, itโs easy.โ Devlin lifted her cap for another mop across her hairline, and then wiped perspiration away from her eyes under her sunglasses. โItโs fun, little dude,โ she said to the kid in his obviously secondhand clothes.
She wanted to care, wanted to be โaffableโ or whatever it is a carny should be toward summerโs ice-cream-eating cash-crop flux of kids. But wanting alone, without effort, is never enough.
The mom held out a five-dollar bill.
โYou both wanna do it? I gotta have more than one person to run it for a prize.โ Devlin rubbed the top of her right flip flop and foot against her left calf.
โOh,โ the woman said, โI wasnโt planning to play. Iโm no good at these things.โ
โUm,โ Devlin stepped out of the shade of the gameโs nook and cast her eyes up and down the boardwalk, โweโll find some more kids.โ She took the womanโs money without looking away from the walkway and the beggarly seabirds.
A young couple, likely playing hooky from jobs in Houston, held the hands of a girl sporting jet-black pigtails and lopsided glasses.
โStep right up, princess. You wanna win a unicorn, right?โ Devlin reached back into her game nook and snatched a pink toy from the wall of unicorns, butterflies, bees, and unlicensed lookalikes of characters from movies Devlin had never heard of. She dangled the thing in the girlโs direction.
โWould you like to play, habibti?โ The mom jiggled the girlโs arm.
โTell ya what.โ Devlin turned to the mom. โThe whole family can play for five bucks. Weโre just trying to get some games going, give away some prizes to these cuties.โ She turned back to the first mother. โAnd donโt worry, Iโll give him three games for the fiver.โ
โHear that, Vince? Youโll get to play a few times. Is that cool?โ
Vince picked at his crotch. Devlin looked away.
โYes, weโll all play,โ the second mother said. The dad pulled a twenty out of a pocket and Devlin started to make change while Vinceโs mom hefted Vince onto a stool.
โJust a five back,โ the father said. โWeโll play a few times.โ
โSure thing,โ Devlin replied. Then she raised her voice to run through the rules of the game, to explain how the water guns spraying and hitting the targets would raise plastic boats in a boat race to buzzers at the top of the game contraption. She offered some tired words of encouragement, got nods from everyone, and counted down. โThree, two, one.โ
She pushed the button and the game loosed a bell sound across the boardwalk.
A guy in waiterโs livery hurried past, hustling toward one of the boardwalkโs various restaurants, with their patios overlooking the channel and Galveston Bay. Heโd be serving people margaritas and gimlets in just a few more steps and minutes. Devlin wanted a gimlet.
She drew a deep breath, turned back to her charges. โClose race here, friends.โ
An โ80s-vintage Hunter sailboat slid past in the channel, leaving Galveston Bay and making its way back to one of the marinas up the waterway on Clear Lake.
When Devlin turned back to her marksmen, the girlโs motherโs boat had almost reached the buzzer.
โLooks like weโve got a leader here. Come on, madam. Youโre almost there.โ
Devlin checked her watch. Sheโd be off in less than an hour. Sheโd be back on her own boat fifteen minutes after that, with an unopened bottle of Bombay Sapphire and a net full of limes rocking above the galley sink.
The buzzer blared.
โLooks like we have a winner. Congratulations, madam.โ Devlin clapped three times. โNow would you like a unicorn, a butterfly, or,โ Devlin pulled a four-inch-tall creature from the wall, not knowing how to describe it, โthis little guy?โ She held it out for the womanโs inspection.
โHabibti, you pick.โ The mom patted her daughterโs back. The kid didnโt say anything, just pointed at the butterfly.
โButterfly it is, beautiful.โ Devlin unclipped the toy from the wall of plush junk and handed it to the girl. โWell, weโve got some competition for this next one, folks, now that youโre all warmed up. Take a breather. Weโll start the next game when youโre ready.โ
โCan I try?โ A boy pulled at a broad-shouldered manโs hand, leading the guy toward the row of stools. It was hard to tell parentage with these kids and their mixed-up step- and half- and melded-in-other-ways families, and with this one, the kidโs dark curls and earnest eyes contrasted with the dudeโs Nordic features and reminded Devlin of a roommate sheโd had in undergrad, a girl from Haiti whoโd taught Devlin about pikliz. Devlin hadnโt thought about Haitian food in ages. She decided she would google it later and see what she could find in Houston. A drive to discover somewhere new to eat would do her good.
Any chance at plantains and pikliz would have to wait, though. The kid and the dude now stood in front of Devlin. Ultra-dark sunglasses hid the guyโs eyes, and a ballcap with a local yacht brokerageโs logo embroidered on it cast a shadow over his face. Devlin cocked her head. She narrowed her eyes and hoped her own sunglasses were doing as good a job of being barriers. He reminded her ofโ
โStill time to add another player?โ The dude pulled out a wallet and handed Devlin a ten.
โSure,โ she said. โIs this for both of you? You should give it a try, too. Thisโll get you both in on the next two games.โ
She didnโt wait for confirmation. She shoved the money in the box beside her control board of buzzer buttons and waved the guy and his kid toward stools on the far side of the now-veteran players already seated.
โUh, sure,โ the guy said, putting a hand on the kidโs back and guiding him to a seat.
Running through the rules again, Devlin envisioned those gimlets awaiting her. With Bombay Sapphire dancing before her, she counted down and then pushed the button to blast the bell and launch the game. The buzzer over the newcomer fatherโs boatโs track rang moments later. What kind of scummy guy just trounces a kid like that? Devlin rolled her eyes behind the obscuring lenses.
โLooks like our new guy is the winner, ladies and gentlemen. Now, would you like a unicorn, a butterfly, or this little dude?โ Devlin again proffered the hard-to-describe creature, walking it over for the fellow to examine.
โWhat is it?โ the guy asked.
Devlin shrugged. โWhat do you get when you cross an elephant and a rhino?โ
The guyโs sunglasses gave away nothing. But something she couldnโt articulate made her feel like he was studying her.
โAn โel-if-I-know,โ she said.
Still nothing . . . except that feeling of scrutiny.
โDude, Iโve got no idea,โ she replied to her reflection in the lenses.
โGrant, which one do you want?โ The guy turned away and handed the unnamed creature to the kid, and then gestured at the identifiable unicorns and butterflies hanging on the wall over Devlinโs control station.
โThose are for girls,โ Grant said, waving at the recognizable plushes on the wall.
โSo is this one okay?โ The guy patted the thing in the kidโs hand.
Grant wrinkled his nose. โYeah, I guess so.โ
โAll right, folks. Youโve all got another game coming here. Competition is fierce. Whoโs gonna take this last one?โ Devlin strode back to her place at the control board.
โDeep inhale, everyone. Relax. All right, here we go. Three, two, one.โ She pushed the starting button.
Up shot the new guyโs boat again. What a bastard. Poor Grant. This patriarchal showmanship would be worth about five or ten grand at the therapistโs in twenty-five years.
Out in the channel, two jetskis purred past, headed toward the bay. The dayโs heat had cracked and the sky hinted at evening. Behind her, the victory whistle sounded. She turned. The dude with the sunglasses sat patting Grantโs shoulder, with Grantโs boat at the top of its track. So the guy wasnโt a complete fool.
โA new winner here, ladies and gentlemen.โ She walked to Grantโs stool. โNow, little man, because youโve won two prizes today, you can trade that one youโve got and this one youโre going to get for one bigger one. You can pick from these if you want.โ
She pointed at a row with only-slightly-bigger caterpillars, ambiguous characters, and a dog in a purple vest.
โThat one,โ Grant said, pointing at the dog.
โThat one it is, good sir.โ Devlin retrieved the dog, taking back the first creature and returning it to the wall in the process.
As she retraced her steps to Grant, the dog in her hand, fuzzy pictures coalesced in a fog and mist of bygone memories.
Devlin handed the dog to Grant. โThere you go.โ
She looked at the guy again, focusing on him for longer than she should have, feeling him perhaps doing the same to her. Yes, she had it right: it was him. She pushed a flyaway strand of bleached hair back into place beneath her cap and turned away.
โThanks for playing this afternoon, folks,โ she called. โEnjoy your evening on the boardwalk.โ
The parents gathered their kids, and Devlin walked back toward her control board. Waiting for Grant and him to head off down the row of games and rides, she fussed with the cashbox and then lifted her water bottle to her lips. She could feel him and the kid lingering, feel them failing to move along, failing to leave her to forget what once was and to focus on thoughts of gimlets at sunset on the deck of a rotten old trawler.
โUm.โ His voice sounded low and halting behind her. A vacuum, all heat and silence, followed and then a masculine inhale . . . and then the awkward pause.
He cleared his throat.
โSorry to interrupt, but are you from Chicago?โ
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Click here to view The Venturi Effect by Sage Webb Participants
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I think being pompous and condescending is a prerequisite for attorneys, I’m sure there are courses for it in law school ๐
Yeah I agree, although there may be one or two who are nothing like that.
Yeah I agree, although there may be one or two who are nothing like that.
I think being pompous and condescending is a prerequisite for attorneys, I’m sure there are courses for it in law school ๐
Thanks for sharing! I agree with DJ! haha
Lol.
Thanks for sharing! I agree with DJ! haha
I enjoy a legal thriller now and then. I like that she’s sort of an underdog and gets a little romance during her comeback. Good to know that it starts slow.
It has been awhile since I read one. It was quite refreshing. John Grisham was my go to author for legal thrillers.
I enjoy a legal thriller now and then. I like that she’s sort of an underdog and gets a little romance during her comeback. Good to know that it starts slow.
When the story winds up to be good, a slow start isnโt always a bad thing. Iโm glad you ultimately enjoyed this one.
So true Kate. A slow start doesn’t necessarily mean it is going to be a bad story.
When the story winds up to be good, a slow start isnโt always a bad thing. Iโm glad you ultimately enjoyed this one.
Despite the slow start that you had to this one here, its definitely good it built up in momentum for you.
Great review.
Thanks Renee.
Thanks Renee.
Despite the slow start that you had to this one here, its definitely good it built up in momentum for you.
Great review.
Glad that you eventually got into the book and enjoyed it. Great review.
Glad that you eventually got into the book and enjoyed it. Great review.
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