Shames once again puts together a passable-but hardly noteworthy-South Florida thriller in the vein of Carl Hiassen, Elmore Leonard, et al. This time he trots in the tired specter of Russian mafia types running tawdry tourist t-shirt shops as a money laundering operation for the big bucks they make as brokers for ex-Soviet art and weaponry. Against these cardboard villains are arrayed an ex-Wall Street type who left it all to forget about his divorce, take care of his father, and renovate an old hotel; a Jersey transplant called Suki who's stuck in a dead-end job, two creaky old men, and two nice semi-homeless guys. Through it all there's a kind of stumbling, bumbling good naturedness-which serves to heighten the nastiness of the Russians. The outcome is hardly surprising, but it passes the time and is slightly more successful than two other of his books I've read, The Naked Detective and Scavenger Reef,