In Notches, Peter Bowen does something that he will never repeat. He mixes his normal light touches and Metís culture with a chilling story of a chase to stop not one, but two serial killers from continuing to reap pain and horror on paths that crisscross the U.S., but touch base near Toussaint, Montana far to often. The result of this conflict between people who love to live, and the litanty of those who must die is unnerving.
Gabriel Duprés is a Metís - his blood is a mix of Indian tribes, French and British blood, a reflection of the history of the Northern U.S. and Canada. He is a cattle inspector turned homicide investigator in a little town where the sheriff throws up at the sight of blood. Death happens all the time in Toussaint, but never like this, and Gabriel must step in to make sure the daughters of Toussaint can live without fear. It isn't a role Gabriel is comfortable with, he is no avenging angel, but everyone, from his woman, Madelaine, to the FBI are looking to him for a resolution.
Despite repeated trips to half-hidden burials, Bowen keeps Duprés' head up and his wry wit firing on all cylinders. Toussaint is a close community of the fiercely independent. This is something that Gabriel will find repeatedly is the real source of his power, not his consultations with Benetsee the shaman, who has a knack for disappearing at crucial moments.
But humor or no, Notches is a brooding story about human evil. Duprés does what he has to to stop the killings, but this is an uncomfortable resolution. Bowen puts of the ending for as long as possible and then rushes through it at such a rate that the reader may miss the turning point until it is too late. "You not like this at all," Madelaine tells Duprés. "If you did, I would not love you." Of all Bowen's stories, Notches is perhaps the strongest.