My Reviews

Reviewer | Analyst | Commentator

Cat Ellington's review of Keep Your Friends Close by Leah Konen

To feature from: 10-11-24 - 10-25-24

My rating: 5 out of 5 stars

"Those who oppress the poor insult their Maker, but those who are kind to the needy honor Him."

—Proverbs 14:31

The Prelude

THERE WILL BE BLOOD.

The woman, already a nervous wreck, enters the too-quiet home in pursuit of peace. It was all she ever wanted. Peace. A friendly greeting was to be the olive branch. Mutual respect. She had waited for so long on this day. Her voice, the one ignored for years, would finally be heard. And she was ready, ready to make amends. The paint, blood-red in hue, was the first thing she saw upon entering the home. She initially thought it was paint as the house was undergoing a renovation. It was everywhere, the "red paint." Smeared on the hardwood floors and some of the walls. She called his name, but there was no answer. As she ventured further into each room of the house, at last coming to the opening of the deluxe kitchen, she realized that the "red paint" wasn't paint at all but blood. And there he lay—drowned in a pool of it.

His gaping head wound betrayed his manner of death, and his gray eyes stared, unseeing. On the wall above his corpse—and in his blood—were the bitterly vindictive words spelled out: DIE RICH PIG

From there on, a detailed recounting of events will reveal how our leading lady's life became a puzzling maze of deception, envy, adultery, greed, hatred, lies, covetousness, idolatry, and eventual murder.

Dear reader? Shall we meet Mary Haywood?

Mary

Our starring lead, Mary Haywood, is a journalist who has been out of the loop of her profession for far too long and seeks to rekindle her passion for reporting. As the curtains open to showcase the fictional play in action, Mary is seated at the bar of an eatery in the wealthy New York State town of Woodstock, chatting with a nosy bartender and pondering over her next residence and a new daycare facility for her (nearly) two-year-old son, Alex. The divorce from her husband and the child's father, George, has thus far proven messy and vitriolic. And Mary is under a great deal of stress. George Haywood is playing games with his and Mary's child custody arrangements, using his immense wealth and the extended tentacles of his powerful family's connections to crush his soon-to-be ex-wife. But because she loves her little boy, Mary is determined to fight it out in court, although she fears her strenuous efforts will come to naught.

Of course, Mary was hesitant when George—heir to the Haywood real estate empire—offered her a rent-free property to live in with Alex in Woodstock while the soon-to-be exes worked out their parting arrangements, but for the sake of keeping the peace, she agreed. Mary is ready to move on with her life - as she should be. Her marriage to George Haywood, although privileged, was hellish at times. And a new start, hopefully with some nice alimony, is just what Mary needs. That, and a career refreshment.

Mary thinks about all this when she spots her from the window inside the bar. Her hair is a different color, but it's her. She's with a different man—and child—but it's her. Mary could spot that statuesque height, lithe body, and that perfect face from a million miles away. It's her. Willa.

What the hell is Willa—who hasn't called her in ages—doing in Woodstock? Mary wonders.

The First Stage (Past Tense)

THE WOMAN AT THE PLAYGROUND.

Mary Haywood is nothing if not a doting mother to her toddler son, Alex. And this had been obvious to the other well-heeled moms who watched over their little ones as the tots wore themselves out on a fun-filled day at that playground one year ago. That was the day Mary met her. She had been at the play area—in the sandbox—with her son, a boy she called Jack Junior. The woman was bold and self-confident, attributes Mary picked up on immediately. And she was pretty, the perceptively carefree woman was. She appeared so sweet, and she dared anyone to judge her for feeding her son, not healthy options such as freshly-cut veggies and fruit but Lay's potato chips.

Her style was impeccable, as was her hair. And her nails and teeth were showstopping. The woman didn't look like she belonged in a kiddie park with the other (average) frumpy-and-lumpy mommies. No, she was a stand-out among all of them.

She had a toddler, but who could tell? Her body revealed no extra fat or loose skin, and her eyes defied the dark circles and puffiness that stemmed from a lack of sleep. Mary inhaled the woman's image and then exhaled her (own) self-loathing before the stranger—wearing an elegant sapphire necklace that accentuated her blue eyes perfectly, no less—finally spoke. Her name was Willa. No surprise there. With a name like Willa, she had to be a beauty – at least outwardly.

Willa initiated the conversation, and before long, she and Mary were chatting it up like lifelong friends. The two women bonded further as their tots played, and as fate would have it, Mary and Willa exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up (again) for lunch and drinks.

Mary Haywood might be breaking up with great wealth, but this woman, Willa, is still on the right arm of money—and she shows her new best friend, Mary, a good time all over (the gentrified) Brooklyn. At Willa's expense, the two new friends head out to Lincoln Center to enjoy a performance of La bohème, followed by a nightcap at an upscale spot for more salty margaritas. Willa not only holds her (hard) liquor well, but she is also extremely curious, querying the tipsy—and needy—Mary about nearly every aspect of her life. At the same time, Willa reveals very little about herself – on purpose. Her job is to worm her way into Mary's good graces. And with time, she does just that.

Willa

Spawned from humble beginnings, where the only aroma she ever wore was the stench of poverty, Willa, née Charlotte Anne Williams, now revels in the material wealth and monetary riches hard-earned by others, particularly men. Nevertheless, her mindset is low-class and a vindictive reminder. Indeed, if it had a mouth with which to speak out loud, Willa's mindset would do so in a malicious tone of voice that would say to her, You may be all dolled up and dressed to the nines now, but you're STILL a poor, scraggly, hand-to-mouth urchin. And Willa would be damned if she proved it right.

Willa does, however, have an insatiable need to prove she's rich; therefore, she makes a show of flashing her American Express Black Card—or the Centurion, if you will—before the eyes of an emotionally grieved Mary to both impress her (with drinks, dinners, lunches, operas, and shopping trips) and win her over. So far, so good. It doesn't take Mary long to fall head over heels for her new best friend, Willa.

Take THAT, Cassandra! Cassandra. My, how the mighty have fallen.

The Second Stage (Present Tense)

Cassandra

Mary is not the only former Mrs. Haywood to fall off. Cassandra, the ex-wife of Henry, Mary's former brother-in-law, is also a present-day train wreck, no thanks to her spiteful, malicious, vindictive, and ruthless ex-husband. An angry and desperate Cassandra, like her former ally and closest friend, Mary, is falling into the abyss of poverty now that she no longer has access to a life of ease and the best t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶s̶ stuff money—and lots of it—can buy. Cassandra and Mary were once close and thick as thieves, but now Cass acts like she hates Mary, blaming Mary for everything miserable in the world, including divorce. Cassandra, a ravishing beauty, was always content to be the trophy for the philandering Henry. Cassandra was always content to look the other way—so as not to make direct eye contact with abuses of both the physical and mental nature. Cassandra had a promising career once but left it all behind for Henry. And now the bastard wants to destroy her. He took everything she needed to start over, including her precious jewels. Cassandra would have let the money go if she could have only kept her jewels—

Oh, those jewels; they would have taken her a long way.

NO luxury jewel house was out of Cassandra's reach in her married-to-a-Haywood day. She had only the finest pieces ever created, pieces even the late Liz Taylor would have marveled at – violet eyes transitioning to a bright shade of Kelly green with envy. The magnificent jewels gifted to Cassandra boasted fineries from the houses of Bvlgari, Harry Winston, Tiffany & Co., Chopard, Van Cleef & Arpels, and the numero uno of them all, the Charles Jacqueau designed Panthère de Cartier, a breathtaking diamond-and-gold bracelet produced by the Maison of Cartier.

Over five hundred thousand dollars in retail was the value of Cassandra's jewels. And just ONE piece would have set her up nicely on the path to a new life post-Henry Haywood. But he had to take it away from her—that nasty, vindictive, hateful, malicious bastard!

Someone should kill him. Someone should kill that ornery bastard as dead as he has to go.

The Third Stage (Past Tense)

F̶R̶I̶E̶N̶D̶S̶ ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS.

Mary, Willa, and George

Mary can't stop thinking about Cassandra. The two women, who both hailed from impoverished families, married the wealthy and powerful Haywood brothers—George and Henry—and lived like royalty before their individual lives came crashing down. Now Cassandra is lost with nowhere to go and no money to get there, and Mary is only hanging on because of her and her soon-to-be ex-husband's only child, Alex. Here, the chubby-cheeked toddler, the pride of Mary's life, has become a tool, a weapon of sorts, for manipulation—to be used (against his mother) by not only the child's father but also his hostile grandparents and Uncle Henry.

George Haywood is just as brutal and baleful as his sibling Henry—although he pretends to be more passive—and nothing more than a control freak, a masochistic sadist, an arrogant prick, and an adulterer. Yes, a lying, filthy adulterer who eagerly ran over Mary's abdominal stretch marks and limp, stretched-out breasts—the result of breastfeeding Alex—to get to that tight, firm, youthful, curvy, and supple body belonging to Mary's so-called new best friend, Willa.

Willa has been sleeping with Mary's husband in Mary's bed, sweating and discharging genital fluids on Mary's thousand-thread-count sheets, feeding Mary's toddler Cheerios, and then eating and wiping her mouth and saying to herself, I've done nothing wrong. However, her (guilty) conscience begs to differ.

Regardless, Willa is on a mission. She's thinking about her future—because, after all, Jack Senior might say one day, "Get the hell out!" and then where will she be?

Survival trumped any emotional feelings of guilt when Willa chose to follow her gut instincts. Knowledge is power. And Willa picked Mary's liquor-impaired brain bare to obtain as much of it as possible. It took a while, but Mary soon revealed details about Cassandra's treasured jewels: George has them. They're in a soft black velvet bag inside his and her bedroom's safe at the brownstone. The intoxicated, bitter, and heartbroken Mary had finally confided.

Knowing this, Willa was willing to risk her setup with cash cow Jack Senior and his son, Jack Junior, by embarking on a dangerous affair with George Haywood to get her hands on the extraordinary wealth. Willa was also willing to do whatever it took to defend her dear Mary's remaining honor—as Willa's motto is this: "I'm the sort of person who would do anything for my friends."

But would the spirit of hatred—she secretly harbors towards the rich—instruct her to commit murder?

The Fourth Stage (Present Tense)

George and Henry

In 1986, (the legendary) Billy Joel sang a musical tale about the "Modern Woman," in which Bill informed the male subject of the tune that the chic woman of the man's dreams, who had her "own money," was not "another honey" a man like the subject could "quickly disarm," thereby an independent woman who earned her keep and had no need to become dependent on the economic means of any man.

Indeed, financial independence has its advantages, and it is for this reason that controlling and abusive men like George and Henry Haywood have a preference for women, who, before (luckily) being courted by them, lived from hand to mouth in a rat race society, where the poor and working-class far outnumber the wealthy. The Haywood clan—New York's top real estate oligarchs—love to lord it over others. They love to do evil and then laugh in the faces of those they hurt: for the one who is to be taken captive, into captivity he shall go; and he who kills with the sword, in the same manner, will be destroyed. Unfortunately, proud, worldly people like the Haywoods don't think this way; they shun, spurn, and ignore sound wisdom and understanding. They maltreat and oppress – until they run into individuals worse than themselves.

Here, one of them will be met by another filled up with a blood-lustful vengeance, and deceased in a coppery-scented pool of his cold blood will he lay.

A savage blow from a friend turned foe.

The Showdown

THOU SHALT N̶O̶T̶ KILL.

The Haywoods are a family of privileged people who love to bring pain and suffering to those who already have it hard enough in life. They're the sort of people who know and believe that they can get away with anything, anything at all. They could destroy the career of one who rubbed them the wrong way or cause poverty to befall another by bulldozing that person's financial house off its foundation. Hell, the Haywoods could even take someone's children away from them and dare that same someone to try challenging the spiteful move in any court of law. They are like eels on dry land, the Haywoods. And a certain someone hates them. A certain someone hates that wicked, godless, arrogant family—with only the most fierce passion; hence, the individual thinks, contemplating just how they will go for the kill. The person measures their time, and in the privacy of their mind, the individual plans the perfect murder of a Haywood heir. And no one would ever suspect them because no one knows they exist.

You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But here, one individual will kill—in an unrelenting and unrepentant fit of white-hot rage.

Indeed, it will all come to a head with the crushing of a skull.

The Troubled (Supporting) Ensemble

Dear reader, a scandalous and vile script calls for an ensemble of scandalously vile characters. Such are those supporting and bit players who round out a well-performed cast on the pages of this mean-spirited—and morally offensive—tale. Joining our starring leads are none other than the following:

• Frank and Ruth Haywood are twin demons and the narcissistic parents of George and Henry. Ruth, the loudly aggressive one, and Frank, the quietly aggressive one, work as a unit to tear the soul of another to pieces without sympathy or empathy—as their nature is carnal, debased. But then again, wouldn't it take two monsters to raise two monsters?

• Jack Senior is the father of the toddler Jack Junior and the scorned former lover of the much younger Willa. A rich, handsome, and tanned silver fox, Jack Senior feigns anger and humiliation well, but is he a kind, older gentleman worthy of consolation, or is he a remarkable master of deceit?

• Rich is Willa's monotonous new lover and the father of a little girl named Poppy—another child for whom Willa will act as a makeshift mother. Rich, the wealthy owner of a beautiful farmhouse in Woodstock, seemingly means well, but on these pages, if he were software, he'd be bloatware.

• Detective Morales is the woman investigating the George Haywood murder case. And she is convinced she has the right suspect—until all the players start running rings around her, muddying up the linoleum floors of her headquarters.

My Summation

A storyline set in New York, from Brooklyn to Woodstock to Old Forge, Keep Your Friends Close is a genuinely entertaining read. Leah Konen, obviously inspired by the great Agatha Christie, does a fantastic job weaving her plot and developing her characters—some lovable, others repulsive—on these pages while folding in a healthy helping of mystery and intrigue and boggling the reader's mind with one unpredictable twist after another. And although the story, told over three parts, became slackened somewhat near the conclusion, making me wonder if it would ever end, Konen, to her credit, compensated for the shortcoming with a solid, action-packed—and at times emotional—chronicle.

Keep Your Friends Close touches on a generous deal of feminism and will undoubtedly hit a home run with the "girl power" set but might offend several others. Added, if the reader holds an eat-the-rich-because-life-is-a-bitch philosophy, this narrative is sure to prove quite satisfying. Leah Konen is a very talented writer; her effort here reveals that much. But near the end, I yawned once or twice—or thrice—and that was not a good thing. I was rooting for Konen to pick up the pace, and the author did just that: she caught her breath and got back in it, and her tale's minor blemishes, only a few on an otherwise lovely canvas, were forgiven. Yes, the plot taking a slow and draggy turn induced fatigue in me, but Konen quickly refreshed its energy, guiding it to the finish line with grace, and for that, her narrative is worthy of an extra point.

To the mystery thriller enthusiast, Keep Your Friends Close is a forceful effort that I would recommend, and highly so, as I am sure the same will enjoy its "whodunit" premise. And because I find Leah Konen's writing style rather pleasing, I look forward to reading her 2022 release, The Perfect Escape, which I have a new copy of in my library of print books. For now, though, Keep Your Friends Close was admirably hard-won with me. The tale fought like hell. And it won.

Five wealth-corroding stars.

REVIEWER’S NOTE: Thank you to Penguin Group Putnam / G.P. Putnam Sons—in association with NetGalley—for the complimentary copy of Keep Your Friends Close for my reading pleasure.

Analysis of Keep Your Friends Close by Leah Konen is courtesy of Literary Criticism by Cat Ellington for The Arts©.

©2024 Quill Pen Ink Publishing. Literary Criticism by Cat Ellington for The Arts. The Cat Ellington Literary Collection. The Cat Ellington Poetry Collection. All rights reserved.

NEXT UP: Cat Ellington's review of The Influencer by Miranda Rijks