Ten years after the massacre at Wounded Knee, rancher J.B. Bennett is found shot to death on his ranch in the Sand Hills of Nebraska. Buried in a shallow grave beside him is the body of a 14-year old American Indian girl named Star. Who murdered them is the underlying mystery of Jonis Agee's sixth novel, "The Bones of Paradise."

The search for the killer begins. It is a search peopled with characters so deplorable any one of them could have done it — and worse. There is, among others, Drum Bennett, J.B.'s father, a man who steals his young grandson from the arms of his mother with the sole intent of beating the boy into manhood. There's Cullen, the stolen child, who grows into a psychotic bully as a result of the beatings. There's Hayward, Cullen's brother, a bitter, dangerous boy nearly ruined by his mother's abandonment. And there's Percival Chance, the town lawyer, a conniving opportunist who collects "Indian artifacts" that will make you shudder.

As though to lend civility to this roster of nastiness, J.B's estranged wife, Dulcinea, and Star's sister, Rose, enter the story. Dulcinea arrives to manage the ranch, reunite with the boys she abandoned and find her husband's killer. Rose (who is wise among her people but considered simple-minded among the whites) shows up to accompany Dulcinea, lie low and find her sister's killer.

There are a number of side plots to the novel: Will Dulcinea reconcile with her boys? Why did she leave them? Who are these men who have come (like suitors in "The Odyssey") to impress Dulcinea? Will they steal her land, take it for the oil? Will Dulcinea get together with Graver, the only decent man in the novel? Will the spirit of Rose's sister lead her to the murderer?

Agee writes vividly of the American West in all its brutality. Cyclones hit in an instant. Blizzards come out of nowhere. Families starve. Tempers flare. Fights ensue. Drunken cowboys kill and rape. Blood is everywhere.

Throughout the book, such violent subplots rage while the massacre at Wounded Knee, a real-life horror, slips into the background.

Three-fourths in, I felt so annoyed by the white settlers' squabbles I didn't care which lowlife killed J.B. As Graver puts it to Dulcinea, "I am sick to death of the waste around here. You people act like there's nothing for it but to throw each other away, kill your animals off for the folly of it, and ruin every piece of land you can get your hands on. … Your boys? They needed you and you ran off."

But just when you think you can't read another word about this sorry lot and their brutality and bad parenting, Rose resurfaces with a vengeance. You'll have to read all the way to the end to see what I mean.

Christine Brunkhorst is a Minneapolis writer and reviewer who can be contacted at clbrunkhorst@gmail.com.