When Robert Walker isn't writing about FBI forensic pathologist Jessica Coran, he is chronicling the cases of Lucas Stonecoat, a Houston cop and Cherokee Indian. Stonecoat's Native American side impacts much of his world view and keeps him grounded - for he knows that he is fortunate to have escaped the reservation, as so many others have not. His love for his dying grandfather is touching and soulful, deepening the character as no love story ever could. Lucas also suffers chronic pain, remnants of a previous scrape with death, for which he self-prescribes the peyote which would otherwise be used to generate religious visions. Lucas gets high every day, though the potential additional insight sometimes helps him with a stubborn case.

Zachary Roundpoint, the chief Indian mobster of the area, is indebted to Lucas due to the latter's previous unofficial aid, and some of that debt has been paid in the form of money given to the reservation through an "anonymous" donor. Lucas has only used enough of the money to build his grandfather a decent log house, the best on the res, embittering some of the locals and especially Billy Hawk, the unemployed drunk who married Tsalie, Lucas's childhood sweetheart and the woman for whom he still pines.

Dealing with the imminent death of his beloved grandfather, and his feelings for Tsalie and Billy's resulting resentment, not to mention the dangerous loyalty of Roundpoint, Lucas has his plate full when a serial killer dubbed the Scalper begins to rake up random victims, taking not only their scalps but also their hands while still alive. Assigned to the case because the visionless police brass think that a scalper equals an Indian, Lucas immediately goes up against police psychologist Meredyth Sanger, with whom he shares a sexually-charged love/hate relationship. Before long, another repeat killer begins removing heads and Lucas is assigned him, too. The Beheader may be a felon just released from stir who had been suspected of a previous rash of beheadings. Lucas meets Harbaugh, a fellow detective who is dead-set on proving the parolee is the Beheader.

But the two killers begin to vary their routines - are they the same killer, or two distinct monsters preying on defenseless women in high-rise buildings? Are they competitors or partners? And what role does a quack-like Dr. Morissey play, a man whose patient list includes penitentiary parolees, some of the dregs of society, whom he incites toward violence during weird group sessions. Morrissey regales his patients with bizarre therapy that includes nonsensical made-up words, and writes books about his strange cases for the hungry media. But what does he know about these new killings? Is he an accessory, is he the killer, or is he a potential victim?

Walker spins these subplots into a terrific thriller replete with Native American philosophical undertones, more than a little lesson on the white world's inbred prejudice against Indians, and enough crises to drive two books. Good movie-quality action pieces punctuate an otherwise cerebral exercise in the construction and pacing of a thriller. Its only real flaw is some stilted dialogue, which occasionally veers into overly formal movie-Indian syntax and/or attempts to impart too much information. That aside, COLD EDGE is slick and atmospheric entertainment, using Lucas's heritage wisely and with clear purpose, setting up the dichotomy between the cop's world and the Indian's world without resorting to overmuch sentimentality or tobacco-shop philosophy. Lucas simply has no choice but to exist with a foot in each world, and must make the best of it.

In fact, it's noteworthy that the book seems to vacillate as much as Lucas does between the two distinct worlds, making each at once attractive and almost immediately repulsive, perhaps indicating that we are all destined to hover between two poles, two philosophies and two ways of life - but then we must each make our own way, make our own peace with the disparate elements, regardless of how desolate our choices may make us. Walker's portrayal of Lucas hits all the highs and lows familiar to those people who are children born of two worlds. As with Walker's Jessica Coran books, I find myself wanting to forgive the tiny flaws and read backwards to see more of Lucas Stonecoat, a character I enjoyed spending time with.