("Rain Gods" by James Lee Burke; Simon & Schuster, 434 pages, $25.99).

Sheriff Hackberry Holland comes up against a deadly assortment of imported miscreants in a crossroads southwest Texas town. After nine smuggled Asian women are discovered gunned down and buried behind a local church, their stomachs filled with balloons of heroin, Hackberry has to endure the political dealings of federal investigators while searching for the truth.

An important piece of that puzzle is Pete Flores, an Iraq war veteran terribly scarred after being burned in his tank. Flores is an alcoholic who witnesses the murders and runs from the killers, though his country singer girlfriend, Vikki Gaddis, has enough guts for them both.

Killer-for-hire Jack "Preacher" Collins likes to use a Thompson submachine gun as a weapon of choice and engage cohorts and adversaries in mind games.

In "Rain Gods," James Lee Burke has written a riveting novel with broad sociological and biblical themes that evoke past American greats, such as Steinbeck and Cain.

You feel the Texas hardpan under your feet, the squalor of seedy motel rooms crawling with roaches, and the desperation of a man about to plunge off a cliff.

Though in his seventies and tired of all the horror life has shown him, Sheriff Holland is the embodiment of good standing in the way of evil, and he's ready to go to the mat.

Complicating matters is Nick Dolan, a pushover strip club owner who decides to stand up to Collins and his New Orleans bosses.

The rain gods have abandoned this stretch of dusty Texas land, but the writing gods have blessed us. It doesn't get any better than this, pardner.

Anthony Rainone is a freelance writer. His latest short story appears in the Spring 2009 Issue of Spinetingler magazine.