Hannah Reed has discovered a new hook to the cozy—beekeeping. In her first Queen Bee Mystery, Buzz Off, Reed introduces Story Fischer, a newly-divorced apprentice beekeeper in small-town Wisconsin. When her mentor is slain and another body discovered in Story’s kayak, our protagonist stubbornly assumes the duty of preserving her bees and solving the murders. To confound matters, Story’s philandering ex-husband becomes a suspect. Sure, he’s a cad, but is he a murderer? Read Story’s story to find out. You’ll get a buzz from this one, guaranteed.

It's a time of change for the fourth season of In Plain Sight.

Characters are changing. The marshall's office has a new muffin-bearing officer.

And Mary Shannon's pregnancy hasn't even been dealt with yet.

In Plain Sight—about the US Marshall’s highly secretive branch of the witness protection program (WITSEC) which relocates federal witnesses—airs at 10 pm Sundays on the USA Network.

Mystery Scene recently interviewed Mary McCormack, who plays Mary Shannon, and Frederick Weller who plays Marshall Mann. The first installment of the interview ran May 1, 2011.

Here's the second part of that interview.

Half of this season of In Plain Sight already had been shot when McCormack announced she was pregnant in real-life. McCormack and her husband producer Michael Morris are expecting their third child; they have two daughters.

Rather than having her stand behind desks, be seated a lot or wear jackets (in the New Mexico heat!) to try to hide her pregnancy, the writers are making Mary Shannon pregnant, too.

Will this new development make Mary Shannon even grumpier?

“I started out pretty cranky,” said McCormack, with a laugh.

“Yes, she might have been maxed out on crankiness already,” added Weller.

In Plain Sight melds solid plots with character studies each week. The chemistry between McCormack and Weller is a highlight of the series. The two are friends off-camera and McCormack is godmother to Weller’s daughter.

The actors have their own ideas about what keeps viewers returning.

“I think it's a great drama with a sense of humor. And I don't think that's a very common combination on television,” said Weller.

“USA really does characters well," added McCormack. “Even if you weren't interested in the procedural side of our show, or the witness protection side of it, I think the character relationships are really rich and fresh and funny. I love reading the scenes between me and Fred and I love Paul Ben-Victor's character so much.”

The WITSEC background helps, too.

“Witness protection just makes for exciting stories and it's a really rich sort of place to grab stories from,” said McCormack.

“People starting over completely, saying goodbye to their lives before. That never ends in terms of story opportunities.”

And Mary Shannon herself offers endless story opportunities, too.

“The pregnancy obviously is the huge shift around which all other shifts are defined,” said Weller.

“Mary Shannon is a person who doesn't let people in,” said McCormack.

“She barely lets Marshall in and he's the closest person in her life to her. And so to me the pregnancy is an opportunity for the audience to just know the real her. The audience has a really intimate relationship with her, even though she doesn't really allow anyone else to," said McCormack.

”And the stabilization of the family is continuing obviously. [Mary Shannon's sister] Brandi is engaged and getting married. And so far her relationship seems to be going great. And [Mary Shannon's] mother is still sober and doing great, and so that's all confusing for Mary Shannon. But I think in an interesting way.”

Photos: Mary McCormack and Frederick Weller, top; Weller and Paul Ben-Victor; McCormack. USA Network photos

A lone wolf private eye with a dark, violent history? I think we’ve all had a sip of that brew. But author Mackenzie adds serious kick to the punch by making her hero a woman, and then setting the whole she-bang in South Africa’s Johannesburg, a place full of “crazy boomtown energy” and more than enough of its own dark, violent history.

In her second outing (after 2008’s Random Violence), hard-ass security specialist Jade de Jong is hired as a bodyguard by wealthy Pamela Jordan when her husband, the owner of a string of lucrative strip clubs, goes missing. Certainly Jade, a policeman’s daughter through and through, seems up to the task—she’s tough, determined, and totally focused, trained in various martial arts and armed with a Glock she’s not afraid to use—something that doesn’t sit well with her on-again, off-again lover David, a married police detective. And that’s the rub. Despite a fresh, eye-popping setting (Think you know South Africa? Think again), some genuinely nasty villains, a multiple-viewpoint story that ranges all over the globe, and an unsettling but intriguing plot that involves the international market of sexual slavery , far too much emphasis is wasted on Jade’s unsettled personal life, and even more aggravatingly, that of far too many secondary characters. With all those separate plot threads (romantic and otherwise) and their corresponding subplots clamoring for attention, it’s difficult for all but the most determined reader to keep track of—never mind care about—so many characters. And that includes Jade, who nearly gets lost in the shuffle. Which is a shame, because Jade herself is a complicated and compelling heroine and the author certainly has a deft hand with characters and action, and a real talent for exploring the darker side of human nature. It all makes for a heady but over-busy read. Perhaps the next time the author will trust Jade enough to give her a case as lean, clean, and mean as she is.

After a hiatus of more than six years, Lawrence Block has produced a new Matt Scudder book and it is a solid winner. It opens in the present as Scudder, chatting with a friend, relates the story of the murder of Jack Ellery, a childhood acquaintance with whom he had lost contact until the two met at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Jack was on the eighth step of AA’s 12-step program and was in the process of contacting all those whom he had harmed in his past to apologize and ask forgiveness—only instead of forgiveness, it seems someone may have given Jack the ultimate repose.

The reader accompanies Matt as he traverses his beloved New York City investigating each suspect, none of whom outwardly seem to have suitable cause to kill. Along the way Block provides a clear picture of AA, its rules and traditions, and especially its members, whose drinking addictions are sympathetically portrayed without belittlement or stereotyping. The conclusion might be a shocker, but after careful consideration the reaction will be, “But of course! It couldn’t be any other way.”

This is master storyteller Block at his best. He is an expert at creating fully developed characters, often with just a few lines of dialogue, and it is a pleasure to travel along-side Scudder as he visits his old haunts—the bars, churches, coffee shops, and other places that are as much a part of the story as are the characters. Loyal followers of the series will happily revisit, and new readers will discover, a New York seldom seen by tourists. Welcome back, Matt. Damn, we missed you!

Has the trend for vampire books subsided and will the horror void be filled by a resurgence of ghost stories? If so then The White Devil is right up there leading the charge. In a genre I’d categorize as “intellectual horror,” Justin Evans’ novel is for those who want cerebral stimulation while surrendering to that tingling chill that comes from being scared out of their wits. It deals with murder most gruesome, ghosts, and the life and loves of English poet Lord Byron.

Hoping to straighten him out before attending college, rebellious teenager Andrew Taylor is sent to England’s prestigious Harrow School by his parents. He had been expelled from his last school for doing drugs. Although an outsider, Andrew is cast in a school play about Lord Byron, to whom he bears an uncanny resemblance. The poet was a student at Harrow 200 years before and allegedly had a love affair with another male student, John Harness, which ended tragically. Harness’ spirit has hovered over the school ever since, but now manifests itself to Andrew, who watches in horror as the specter murders a classmate and threatens anyone close to Andrew. The ghost is persistent and Andrew is bedeviled as he tries to break free. Can he succeed before more of his friends are murdered or is his destiny controlled by the ghost?

Evans, who attended Harrow, describes its shadowy halls and dank cellars in eerie, atmospheric detail. His knowledge of Byron, whose poetry is quoted profusely, is first-rate. If, like me, you know little of the poet’s life, you’ll learn why he is so revered and why he is a favorite recurring figure in many Gothic romances. But be warned, although Andrew finds love and sex at Harrow, this is not a romance. It is an eerie, gory, horrific tale, perfect for a dark and stormy night.

You don’t have to be a jazz fanatic to enjoy the Evan Horne series from Bill Moody because the mystery always stands firmly on its own, with the jazz motifs there to enhance the mood. In Fade to Blue, Ryan Stiles, Hollywood’s most bankable young star, is studying to take the role of a jazz pianist/detective—but he can’t play the piano. Who better than Evan, jazz pianist and amateur detective extraordinaire, to tutor the hotheaded star?

Evan moves into Stiles’ Beverly Hills estate where he encounters Hollywood at its best…and worst. Evan is surprised to discover that the plot of the movie revolves around one of his previous cases; and although he isn’t happy with this, he has signed a contract and can’t back out. Matters get worse when a paparazzo’s body is found at the bottom of a ravine, and suspicion of foul play falls on Stiles. The detective in Evan can’t help but investigate, especially when another death turns up. Evan doesn’t let Hollywood razzle-dazzle him, and sorts through the hype, lies, and inflated egos for the truth.

Like a good jam session, this book is equal parts pulse-racing excitement and laid back pleasure, with side trips in action that, like individual riffs, are both distinct and yet part of the whole. Quiet moments in small jazz cafes are juxtaposed with brisk action when Stiles’ explosive temper and ego erupt. Before you settle in with this fine mystery, put on a CD of any of the jazz greats and, guaranteed, you’ll have an excellent time.

Is Michael Connelly stepping out on Harry Bosch or what? Because lately it seems the restless author has been spending an inordinate amount of time with his criminal defense Los Angeles attorney Mickey Haller instead of staying at home with his bread-and-butter, troubled homicide cop. In less than three years, Haller (first introduced in The Lincoln Lawyer in 2005) has appeared in three subsequent novels and at least one short story. But while the Haller books seem to be doing well for their author, the profits apparently aren’t trickling down to Mickey.

His latest, the timely, angry The Fifth Witness, finds the perpetually on-the-make attorney still motorvating around town, hustling for clients, but now reduced to “foreclosure defense” cases—keeping banks and mortgage companies from illegally evicting his clients from their homes. Not exactly big bucks cases, maybe, but Mickey’s more than content to deal in volume—all from the back seat of his Lincoln, of course.

Still, a big paycheck would be nice, and one waltzes in when his foreclosure client, Lisa Trammel, an unpleasantly self-righteous single mom turned mortgage activist, is charged with the murder of Mitchell Bondurant, the mortgage specialist at her bank. Haller immediately takes on Lisa’s defense, his eye on the lucrative movie rights to the story.

But to call this story “ripped from the headlines” is to slight Connelly, whose story goes far beyond glib, simplistic newspaper accounts and sound-bite rhetoric, and digs deep into our current economic and cultural malaise. Connelly’s actually read a newspaper story or two and it shows, as he creates a surprisingly effective and unsettling tale that meshes his usual sterling courtroom intrigue, solid detective work, muscular plotting, and sharply etched characters with a large dumping of angry salt on the cynical, callous leeches—from Wall Street to Hollywood and beyond—who would profit from our suffering.

Set in Sendai, Japan, this near-futuristic conspiracy thriller opens with the mid-parade murder of a newly elected prime minister. Ubiquitous public surveillance devices called Security Pods allow the government to quickly identify a prime suspect, Masaharu Aoyagi, but he’s just the fall guy, a mild-mannered former delivery-truck driver suddenly thrust into the role of Lee Harvey Oswald in this drama modeled on the JFK assassination. The police are after him, he has no idea why, and running seems to be the proper response.

As the manhunt kicks into high gear, Isaka carefully sprinkles in class updates from Aoyagi’s old circle of college friends. These friends, with whom he has lost touch, are each drawn into the current action, abetting his escape—sometimes without his knowledge—and providing sentimental balance to Aoyagi’s story. In fact, filled with Beatles references (the original Japanese title of the book is Golden Slumber, as in the Abbey Road medley) and off-kilter characters (e.g., an invalid with two leg casts and a collection of fake manhole covers), it’s as if Isaka has dropped a Haruki Murakami protagonist into a high-stakes thriller. Along the way, Aoyagi transforms from the kind of polite nice guy an ex-girlfriend breaks up with because she doesn’t want to “settle for too little” into the No.1 most wanted man in Japan. The kind who shares cup noodle ramen in a dirty squat with a serial killer known as “Cutter.”

Both a comment on contemporary social disconnection and a warning about what can happen when a complacent public welcomes the loss of privacy with open arms, Isaka’s Remote Control is a timely thriller. And a rare one that takes an ordinary guy, throws him into the fire, and doesn’t make him into some kind of “Sendai’s Bravest” hero at the end. Rather, he gets by, with a little help from his friends.