I picked up Loren Estleman's "Gas City" recently, and even if the story of corruption and redemption weren't interesting, I'd read it for Estleman's descriptions and hard-boiled prose.
Plucked at random:
Turnbull, the day man, sat in his platform rocker behind the registration desk, reading a boating magazine with his head tilted to keep cigarette smoke out of his eyes. He'd quit smoking, but his posture hadn't gotten the message.
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