Le Dentiste Décédé de Desenzano [The Deceased Dentist of Desenzano]

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the premise at first: a dead dentist in a lakeside town? How *cozy* can that get? But *Le Dentiste Décédé* won me over with its razor-sharp pacing and Ouellet’s pitch-perfect narration, which turns what could’ve been a quaint trifle into something far more addictive. She nails Kim’s world-weary but game attitude, and her ability to switch between Italian-accented English and the protagonist’s more detached observations keeps the listen dynamic. The story itself is a masterclass in economical plotting—no subplot fat, just a tight spiral of clues that hinge on dental records, a missing wedding ring, and the kind of village gossip that feels *painfully* authentic. That said, the brevity is a double-edged sword. The resolution, while satisfying, arrives so swiftly that I wished for one more scene to savor the fallout—like a perfect tiramisu eaten in two bites. And while the Italian setting is vivid, a few more sensory details (the smell of lemon trees, the clatter of a piazza at dusk) could’ve deepened the atmosphere. Still, as a palate-cleanser between heavier listens or a weekend escape, this is a gem. Ouellet’s performance elevates even the minor characters, and the script’s humor—dry as a well-aged Chianti—makes the red herrings a joy. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at a *Midsomer Murders* episode for being *too* quaint, this is the antidote: cozy, but with teeth.