Randy Wayne White's Dead of Night Finds Doc Ford In Fine Form - Mostly

Discovering Randy Wayne White’s Doc Ford books is similar to finding John D. MacDonald’s literary character Travis McGee. Dead of Night is the 12th book in the series and, while it’s not the best, it’s certainly not the worst either. All you really need to know is that it’s got Doc Ford in it. And Randy Wayne White wrote it.

The plot involves a group of Russian baddies and a health supplement billionaire who decide to infest the water’s south of Disney World with a plethora of poisonous and parasitic critters, in particular, a flesh-eating worm from Africa that can literally make your skin crawl when it punches through to the light of day. If you don’t think this idea isn’t going to cause some nervous laughter in the Orlando Chamber of Commerce, you’re wrong.

We get off to a flying start when Doc leaves his Sanibel shack and ventures to the other side of the state to check in on the reclusive brother of a friend who has sort of fallen off the map. Ford interrupts an interrogation by a duo of Russian nasties, one of whom (of course) is a sexy woman with odd sexual appetites. Female trouble seems to be a recurring theme for the good doctor in Dead of Night. Not only is he apparently not on speaking terms with the mother of his teenage son, Laken, but his current squeeze, tennis star, Dewey, returns to her lesbian roots shortly after Doc impregnates her.

Awkward.

Luckily, the plot is zipping along fast enough that he doesn’t have time to wallow in self pity and lose his self-esteem completely. From the creative use of a speedboat as his weapon of choice, to the Bahamian prison breakout, this adventure provides an adequate level of excitement, though it takes a while to get going, to keep the reader turning pages at a steady clip.

The usual suspects are along for the ride. BFF Tomlinson has fore-sworn his life of asceticism and tentatively embraced capitalism in the form of a lucrative website that dispenses his philosophical teachings. Weirdo hippie that he may be, it’s a good thing he swooped in when he did to save the day, or Doc might have spent the rest of his days serving as a sex slave to Mistress Helga. Except her name isn’t Helga, but that’s not really the point, is it?

As we said, Dead of Night isn’t the best thing Mr. White has written, and it seems to meander in a few places, but who are we to offer advice to the author? When you have a long running character like Doc Ford, we grant creative license to wander afield every once in a while to develop a facet of his world. By the middle of the book, events are racing forward at a breakneck pace, and we sometimes forget to breathe. However, turning blue and falling to the floor is a quick reminder.

Randy Wayne White's Dead of Night Finds Doc Ford In Fine Form - Mostly