Have you ever read so many books that your brain starts to resemble a cluttered attic, full of forgotten treasures and dusty memories? That's where I find myself with Mary Kubica; I could've sworn I’d come across her writing before, yet her titles remain elusive, save for the one in my hands today—Local Woman Missing. I’m at a loss as to whether I picked it up from a dollar store or a thrift store, which is mildly alarming. Either I’m starting to lose my grip on reality or my overflow...
