In an era where genuine human connection feels increasingly elusive, Kathleen West’s latest offering, “Making Friends Can Be Murder,” explores the desperate lengths people will go to belong—and the devastating consequences when trust is weaponized. This cozy mystery with thriller undertones marks West’s bold venture into the mystery genre, delivering a story that’s equal parts heartwarming and harrowing.
The Premise: Identity, Coincidence, and Community
Sarah Jones arrives in Minneapolis nursing a broken engagement and seeking a fresh start. When a teenage Sarah Jones reaches out through social media to form “The Sarah Jones Project”—a whimsical group for women sharing this frustratingly common name—it seems like kismet. The concept is both endearing and absurd: what are the odds that multiple Sarah Joneses would find each other in the same city, united by little more than a shared moniker and the universal human need for connection?
West’s genius lies in taking this seemingly innocent premise and gradually peeling back its layers to reveal something much darker underneath. The group includes a retired grandmother (Sixty-Nine), a spirited Catholic school student (Seventeen), a personal trainer from Vermont (Thirty), and a graduate student who serves as nanny to two wealthy teens (Twenty-Seven). The numerical nicknames based on their ages add a playful element that masks the sinister undercurrents building beneath the surface.
Character Development: Authentic Voices Across Generations
Sarah Elizabeth Jones: The Heart of the Story
West’s protagonist emerges as refreshingly authentic—a woman grappling with genuine uncertainty about her life’s direction. Having fled Vermont after calling off her engagement to childhood sweetheart Brian, Sarah embodies the modern woman’s struggle to define herself outside traditional expectations. Her work as a personal trainer provides more than just a paycheck; it offers structure and purpose in a life that feels temporarily unmoored.
What makes Sarah compelling is her ordinariness. She’s neither exceptionally brilliant nor tragically flawed—just human enough to make poor decisions while maintaining our sympathy. Her attraction to FBI agent George Nightingale develops naturally, though the deception underlying their relationship creates genuine tension that propels the narrative forward.
The Ensemble: A Tapestry of Motivations
West demonstrates remarkable skill in crafting distinct voices across generations. Seventeen (the teenage Sarah) crackles with authentic adolescent energy—impulsive, occasionally cruel, but ultimately seeking validation and belonging. Her social media mishap that leads to the creation of TSJP feels genuinely modern, as does her complicated relationship with technology and identity.
Sister Mary Theresa emerges as perhaps the most intriguing character, a cloistered nun with a law enforcement background who becomes the group’s unlikely detective. Her presence adds both gravitas and unexpected humor, particularly in her interactions with the tech-savvy teenager.
Sixty-Nine, the retired grandmother, provides warmth and wisdom while avoiding the trap of becoming a stereotypical elder mentor. Her enthusiasm for yarn-bombing and community engagement feels authentic rather than forced.
The Mystery: Layers of Deception
Gabriella Johnson: The Con Artist We Almost Root For
The revelation that Twenty-Seven is actually Gabriella Johnson—a professional con artist with a tragic backstory—transforms the entire narrative. West avoids the temptation to make Gabriella a cartoonish villain. Instead, she’s a woman driven by desperation to save her brother Oscar, whose addiction has made him vulnerable to dangerous creditors.
Gabriella’s methods are calculating yet motivated by love. She infiltrates Sarah Jones’s life as the Federal Reserve chair’s nanny, slowly gaining access to the family’s wealth and trust. The yellow diamond necklace becomes both McGuffin and symbol—representing the generational wealth that Gabriella lacks and desperately needs.
The Murder: Federal Reserve Chair Sarah Jones
The death of Sarah Jones, Federal Reserve chair and mother to Ruby and Lula, serves as the story’s central mystery. West handles the investigation with surprising sophistication, weaving together FBI procedures, family dynamics, and personal vendettas. The revelation that the victim had her own dark secrets—including the suspicious death of her mother—adds moral complexity to what could have been a straightforward victim narrative.
The bridge confrontation between Gabriella and the Federal Reserve chair crackles with tension. Both women are backed into corners: Gabriella faces her brother’s potential murder by creditors, while Sarah Jones confronts the exposure of her matricide. The physical fight that ensues feels visceral and desperate rather than choreographed.
Romance Subplot: Love Built on Lies
George Nightingale’s relationship with Sarah Elizabeth creates the novel’s emotional core while serving the plot’s investigative needs. As a junior FBI agent tasked with developing Sarah as an informant to catch Gabriella, George faces an impossible ethical dilemma. His genuine feelings for Sarah clash with his professional obligations, creating tension that West handles with surprising nuance.
The romance avoids many genre pitfalls by acknowledging the problematic foundation of their relationship. Sarah’s eventual discovery of George’s deception feels earned rather than melodramatic, and her struggle to forgive him resonates with anyone who’s questioned whether love can survive fundamental betrayal.
Genre Balance: Cozy Meets Thriller
West’s transition from contemporary fiction to mystery proves largely successful, though not without some growing pains. The cozy mystery elements—quirky characters, community setting, amateur detection—sit comfortably alongside more serious thriller components like FBI investigations and violent crime.
The yarn-bombing subplot exemplifies this balance perfectly. What begins as whimsical community art transforms into a metaphor for how appearances can deceive and how public acts can mask private desperation.
Strengths That Elevate the Narrative
Authentic Dialogue and Modern Sensibilities
West’s background in contemporary fiction serves her well in crafting believable dialogue across age groups. The text messages and social media interactions feel authentic rather than forced, and the generational differences in communication styles add depth to character development.
The exploration of social media’s role in both connection and deception feels particularly timely. Seventeen’s initial cyberbullying incident that sparks TSJP’s creation, Gabriella’s carefully curated online presence, and the group’s use of technology for detection all reflect our complicated relationship with digital identity.
Moral Complexity
West avoids easy answers about guilt and redemption. Gabriella’s crimes stem from love and desperation rather than greed. The Federal Reserve chair’s death, while tragic, involves a woman who committed matricide. Even sympathetic characters like Sarah Elizabeth make questionable decisions driven by loneliness and the desire to belong.
This moral ambiguity elevates the story beyond simple good-versus-evil dynamics, forcing readers to grapple with questions about justice, forgiveness, and the prices we pay for love.
Areas for Improvement
Pacing Inconsistencies
The novel’s middle section occasionally loses momentum as West balances multiple plotlines and character perspectives. While the ensemble approach allows for rich character development, it sometimes dilutes narrative tension at crucial moments.
The FBI investigation, while generally well-researched, occasionally feels procedurally heavy in ways that slow the emotional momentum. Some technical details about con artistry and federal law enforcement, while interesting, don’t always serve the story’s central themes about friendship and belonging.
Resolution and Redemption
The ending, while satisfying on plot levels, feels somewhat rushed in addressing the emotional consequences of Gabriella’s actions. Her five-year sentence for manslaughter and fraud seems appropriate legally, but the novel could have spent more time exploring how the surviving characters process their betrayal and loss.
George and Sarah’s potential reconciliation, hinted at in the epilogue, might benefit from more explicit examination of how they rebuild trust after such fundamental deception.
West’s Evolution as a Writer
Readers familiar with West’s previous works—”Minor Dramas & Other Catastrophes,” “Are We There Yet?,” and “Home or Away”—will recognize her signature exploration of family dynamics and social pressures. However, “Making Friends Can Be Murder” represents a significant evolution in both scope and ambition.
Her previous novels, while dealing with serious themes, maintained a primarily domestic focus. This mystery allows West to explore broader questions about justice, identity, and the lengths people will go to protect those they love. The result feels like a natural progression rather than an abrupt genre shift.
Similar Reading Recommendations
Fans of “Making Friends Can Be Murder” should consider:
- Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache series – for character-driven mysteries with strong community elements
- Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad novels – for psychological complexity and moral ambiguity
- Kate Atkinson’s “Case Histories” – for ensemble casts and interconnected storylines
- Liane Moriarty’s “Big Little Lies“ – for suburban secrets and complex female friendships
- Ruth Ware’s “The Turn Of The Key“ – for unreliable perspectives and domestic suspense
Final Verdict: A Promising New Direction
“Making Friends Can Be Murder” succeeds as both an entertaining mystery and a thoughtful exploration of human connection in an increasingly disconnected world. While West’s genre transition isn’t flawless, her strengths—authentic character development, sharp dialogue, and emotional depth—translate beautifully to mystery fiction.
The novel works best when it focuses on the characters’ emotional journeys rather than procedural details. West’s ability to find humor and warmth even in dark circumstances prevents the story from becoming overwhelmingly bleak, while her refusal to offer easy absolution gives the narrative genuine weight.
For readers seeking cozy mysteries with psychological depth, “Making Friends Can Be Murder” delivers an engaging blend of humor, heart, and suspense. West has created a world where friendship is both salvation and weapon, where the people we trust most may be those most capable of destroying us, and where the simple act of belonging can exact the highest price of all.
This novel establishes West as a writer capable of growth and evolution, suggesting that her future mysteries will only deepen in complexity and emotional resonance. In a crowded mystery market, “Making Friends Can Be Murder” stands out by remembering that the best crimes aren’t just puzzles to be solved—they’re human tragedies that reveal who we truly are when everything we value is at stake.
