The Glass Eel by J.J. Viertel: Fog, Fish, and a Slow-Burn Whodunit

Set on tiny Caterpillar Island off the coast of Maine, this debut follows Jeanette King, a hard-working crab collector rebuilding her life after cancer, a messy divorce, and the unexplained loss of her son. The island’s tight-knit fishing community hums with industry detail-the lobstermen, delivery trucks, saltbox homes, and local gossip all feel lived-in. When a late-night engine and a missing boat foreshadow violence, Jeanette is drawn into a widening mystery: a local teen’s corpse appears, deliveries are sabotaged, and political shadows stretch toward the governor’s office. Viertel widens the lens beyond Jeanette, even giving us surprising perspectives (yes, including a chapter from the eels) as the island’s secrets start to surface.

My Review

I picked this up for a moody seaside mystery and found myself staying up past bedtime because I needed to know what Caterpillar Island was hiding. Viertel’s strongest gift is atmosphere-foghorns, damp nets, the ache of cold salt air-that made me feel like I was standing on the dock in rubber boots. Jeanette is a patient, stubborn protagonist; watching her piece together small betrayals and larger conspiracies felt authentic and quietly powerful.

What to expect: a deliberate, character-driven mystery rather than a nonstop thriller. The plotting expands from local crimes to political entanglement, so patience rewards you-the payoff isn’t instant but when clues snap together, it lands. I loved how the book stays rooted in community: neighbors, grudges, and livelihoods give the danger weight. If you like your mysteries with grit, coastal texture, and a woman doing the slow, stubborn work of finding truth, you’ll want to read this.

Close this one feeling braced and thoughtful, like you’ve smelled the ocean and now understand how small towns keep their secrets close.

You can get a copy of The Glass Eel by J. J. Viertel on Amazon or Bookshop.

If this has you intrigued, read an excerpt from The Glass Eel below.

Excerpt Preview

The boat was unmanned, the steering wheel tied off so that it would turn endlessly in a proscribed circle. Jeanette untied it and killed the engine. The sudden quiet was so profound that for a moment she just stood there. The birds weren’t even up yet. Then she looked around. The sight of the boat always triggered memories, but she fought them off, armed with the likely possibility that her ex-husband was dead or missing or had met with some kind of foul play and was in danger. It was not exactly a moment for agitating memories of a life that was long gone. Even blissful ones down in the hold. Where the hell was he? There was no sign of a note, or anything that might have indicated a violent struggle. The damn boat was just empty, rocking gently in the current. She examined the rigging, which seemed in place. The chrome-plated winch handles were accounted for, and none of them showed signs of blood or hair or any other human grotesquery of the kind that are always present on TV when someone is bludgeoned with a winch handle. No one’s head had been beaten in.

As she surveyed the deck, she became aware of the soft humming of the saltwater pump that fed the live well. The large rectangular tank that served as a holding pen for the day’s haul was directly in the center of the boat’s open deck, and could hold about seven hundred fifty pounds of lobsters, kept alive and fresh by movement of the water that was pumped through it continually from under the boat. Why would it be running before first light, when nothing would be in it?

She moved to the well and took hold of the lid. She began to lift it but the hydraulics took over and it rose and tilted toward the stern on its own. If she was lucky, she thought, she’d see nothing but water in the live well. Less lucky would be the presence of a human body, broken, folded, and crammed into the only space on the boat big enough to hide one. The lid, assisted by a little hydraulic cylinder at each corner, glided open at a tilt. She gasped, leapt backwards, and snagged her foot in the anchor line. She grabbed onto the boat’s rail to keep from going over and stared down into the well. It was alive, but not with lobsters.

Thousands of baby eels swarmed and boiled in chaos in front of her, an aquatic perpetual motion machine, ugly and gasping and seeking – what – Escape? Food? Oxygen? Some kind of return to the open water? She stared down at them, each only a few inches long, translucent, and no thicker than a matchstick. They pulsed with the urge to survive and grow. They were repellent, but so fascinating in their passion for movement that she stood and stared, mesmerized. Elvers. What were they doing here, in a boat with no skipper? Curiosity quickly overcame her shock, and she dipped a finger into the water to try to pick one up. The tiny creatures slithered past, flattening up against it as a cat might against your calf – if you had a cat. She had no use for pets. She pulled her hand away and wiped the unctuous slime from her finger on the parka.

“God, I hate cats,” she said aloud to no one.

Excerpted from BOOK. Copyright © 2025 by AUTHOR. Reprinted by permission of IMPRINT, a division of PUBLISHER.

Ready for More?

If Jeanette’s search for answers in wind-swept docks and ruined trucks sounds like your kind of reading, grab your copy of The Glass Eel. When you’ve finished, come back and tell me in the comments-did you suspect the killer early, or did the island’s secrets surprise you?

You can get a copy of The Glass Eel by J. J. Viertel on Amazon or Bookshop.