From Publishers Weekly
Wiltse's routine suspense yarn is a far cry, both geographically and dramatically, from his previous novel, the appropriately titled Blown Away, which featured a vibrant cast and a colorful New York City setting. The backdrop here is Falls City Nebr., a "scratch on the Great Plains with a population of a mere five thousand people," where Secret Service agent and Falls City native Billy Tree is recovering from a botched operation that left his partner dead and Billy severely traumatized. Settling in with his sister, Kath, Billy once again encounters his old friends and foes all straight out of central casting. Pat Kunkel, the town's crusty sheriff, resumes his paternal friendship with Billy, who rekindles his not-quite-consummated affair with high school sweetheart, Joan, who's divorced from abusive Duane. Then there's Kath's drunken husband ("Peripatetic Stu, as Billy called him") and Huford Peck, the town's simpleminded hobo. The list goes on. It takes Billy no time at all to realize that this Norman Rockwellesque burg has surprise a seamy underbelly. But when a shooting takes place at the local high school, the investigation seems no more pressing than the townsfolk's assorted peccadilloes. Though Billy's renewed relationship with Joan produces a few affecting moments, it's difficult overall to empathize with him. His mocking self-pity quickly wears thin, as does his habit of assuming an Irish brogue (homage to his ancestry) in times of stress. And the novel's set pieces action scenes making vivid use of the local landscape are undercut by lackadaisical pacing. Wiltse's frequently florid prose and his characters' homespun philosophizing are a further hindrance "Do you think it's just cornfields and a deranged boy with a gun? There are lives being lived here, Billy." Lives, maybe, but not a whole lot of life. Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.


From Booklist
You'll never look at a grain silo in the same way after reading this novel. Wiltse injects his small-town Nebraska setting with Hitchcockian terror: a cornfield, a school yard, even pieces of farm equipment all move from ordinary to horrific in the blink of an eye. Agent Billy Tree, who investigated the homes of crackpots as part of pre-event security for the Secret Service, has returned to his hometown of Falls City, Nebraska, to recover from physical injuries and his deep shame after his partner was killed on a house search. Billy wants nothing more than to hole up at his sister's home, watching the road and replaying the scene where he failed his partner. But the plight of his old girlfriend and her son, victims of harrowing psychological abuse from the ex-husband, forces Billy to rejoin life. And when a school shooting wounds his girlfriend and kills others, Billy can no longer ignore the sheriff's pleas to help him investigate. What Billy discovers is that the seemingly pure midwestern small town harbors big-time vices. What Billy feels is still shame, skidding over into cowardice and increasing the overall tension. The book's climactic scene, played out in a grain silo, has to be one of recent fiction's most terrifying. Heartland delivers a wrenching psychological portrait along with blood pressure-raising suspense. Connie Fletcher
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved


Review
"Blood pressure-raising suspense."--Booklist (starred review)

"Terrifying...a heart-stopping conclusion."--St. Petersburg Times

"Well-wrought, suspenseful...engaging and...frightening."--Denver Rocky Mountain News

FROM THE PUBLISHER

David Wiltse, author of Prayer for the Dead and Bone Deep, takes readers on a chilling journey into rural America's heart of darkness.

After a would-be assassin leaves Billy Tree's partner dead, and Tree wondering whether his own panicked firing played a part, the decorated Secret Service Agent suffers a crisis of confidence—in his ability, his courage, and his principles—that ends his career. He returns to his hometown, Falls City, Nebraska, in search of solitude and a chance to rediscover his moral center.

But danger lurks where he least expects it: behind a small town's bigotry lies deadly intrigue. As the myth of rural tranquility explodes around him, Tree unravels a conspiracy more terrifying than his most haunting nightmares.

About the Author Born in Nebraska, David Wiltse has written for stage, screen, and magazines. He lives in Connecticut with his daughters.

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

Wiltse's routine suspense yarn is a far cry, both geographically and dramatically, from his previous novel, the appropriately titled Blown Away, which featured a vibrant cast and a colorful New York City setting. The backdrop here is Falls City Nebr., a "scratch on the Great Plains with a population of a mere five thousand people," where Secret Service agent and Falls City native Billy Tree is recovering from a botched operation that left his partner dead and Billy severely traumatized. Settling in with his sister, Kath, Billy once again encounters his old friends and foes all straight out of central casting. Pat Kunkel, the town's crusty sheriff, resumes his paternal friendship with Billy, who rekindles his not-quite-consummated affair with high school sweetheart, Joan, who's divorced from abusive Duane. Then there's Kath's drunken husband ("Peripatetic Stu, as Billy called him") and Huford Peck, the town's simpleminded hobo. The list goes on. It takes Billy no time at all to realize that this Norman Rockwellesque burg has surprise a seamy underbelly. But when a shooting takes place at the local high school, the investigation seems no more pressing than the townsfolk's assorted peccadilloes. Though Billy's renewed relationship with Joan produces a few affecting moments, it's difficult overall to empathize with him. His mocking self-pity quickly wears thin, as does his habit of assuming an Irish brogue (homage to his ancestry) in times of stress. And the novel's set pieces action scenes making vivid use of the local landscape are undercut by lackadaisical pacing. Wiltse's frequently florid prose and his characters' homespun philosophizing are a further hindrance "Do you think it's just cornfields and a deranged boy with a gun? There are lives being lived here, Billy." Lives, maybe, but not a whole lot of life. (Mar.) Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

Sturdy, predictable thriller about a traumatized Secret Service agent who retires to his cozy midwestern hometown—only to find it honeycombed with the violence he thought he'd left behind in this. Long after the confrontation with a demented terrorist who killed his partner and nearly killed him, Billy Tree still wakens with night sweats. And no wonder, since the conspirator who ended his career has nothing on the threats to the Nebraska peace. A bunch of nasty bikers are clearly peddling drugs, and a pair of trash-talking gangbangers seems to have every intention of getting in on their action. Closer to home, there's Duane Blanchard, the mean, skilled battler who's never let go of Joan, the school nurse who divorced him, and Curtis Metzger, his big, ferocious pal—not to mention Curtis's Nazi-loving son Sandy, who becomes Sheriff Pat Kunkel's chief suspect the minute the smoke clears from the killing of school principal Thom Cohan (already taunted by the Metzgers for his allegedly Jewish name before he was shot along with an inoffensive teacher during a pre—school-year meeting). Kunkel, insisting that Billy's Secret Service background gives him an expertise the sheriff sorely needs, inveigles Billy into tagging along on the investigation. But Billy, who's never quite stopped carrying a torch for Joan Blanchard, can feel himself slipping into another, even less comfortable role as her latest lover—and the next target of her ex's murderous rage. If none of this sounds very original, Wiltse pumps it up efficiently, revealing some dastardly new secret every 40 pages or so, and tying the formula intrigue conscientiously into domestic small-town travails. ThestagebrogueBilly keeps slipping into at every sign of trouble ("She calls me an eedjit, and still I love the woman"), however, shows how much Wiltse's taken off the intensity of his ultra-tough thrillers about the FBI's John Becker (Blown Away, 1996, etc.)