Sherri Travis, the narrator and central figure in Phyllis Smallman’s highly readable series, is 30ish and lippy. By impulse, she noses into any suspicious circumstances that come her way; by profession, she co-owns and manages the Sunset Bar and Grill on Florida’s west coast. Since Smallman, a Canadian, spends winters in the same Gulf of Mexico area, she’s adept at faithfully evoking the sense of place. Florida has never seemed so appealing and appalling as it does in the Sherri Travis novels.

As Highball Exit opens, Sherri’s luck is headed toward its usual destination — into the tank. The lousy Florida economy threatens the Sunset’s continued existence. Sherri’s boyfriend appears to be prepping for a breakup. And Sherri is drawn into a case involving a young woman friend who has apparently committed suicide, leaving behind a baby who can’t be found. Sherri sets out to track the baby and maybe, incidentally, to check that the death was really a suicide.

Sherri offers many of the right qualities for a sleuth. “I seem to have a face that leads people to confide in me,” she says. That’s correct. But as Sherri also adds, “it makes them trust me enough to dump all over me.” In other words, Sherri’s adventures, and the books that chronicle them, move in the manner of a roller coaster. There’s a lot to be said for a sensation like that in anybody’s crime fiction.