Black Duck -- Janet Taylor Lisle

Black Duck will be a good pick for fans of Iain Lawrence's The Wreckers. Different time period, different crime, but historical fiction with action and intrigue and coastal adventure:

This was in the spring, 1929. Smuggling was in high gear. Thousands of cases of liquor coming in every month up and down this coast. Outside racketeers creeping in like worms to a carcass, smelling the money. People look back now and think those days were romantic, all high jinks and derring-do. They're mistaken.

It does start off a bit slow: A boy in the present day tracks down the town's last surviving rum-runner, hoping for an interview—well, the boy hopes the man was a rum-runner. Once the action shifts to 1929 the story begins to move much more quickly. The story and perspective shift back and forth, from the aging storyteller Ruben Hart to the young narrator Ruben Hart.

If you've read Janet Taylor Lisle, you'll already know that her books tend to be somewhat dark. Black Duck is no exception. Yes, it's a crime story with lots of action, but it isn't action-movie action. There is rarely this kind of desperation in action movies:

What I found out was, there's a point beyond which you can't bring up enough energy even to be afraid anymore. What was happening was happening, and I wasn't me but a spectator to myself, waiting and watching and, in an oddly distant way, curious to see how it would end.

In The Wreckers, events unwind so quickly that the reader isn't really given a chance to process them—there are ramifications to the ugly double-crosses that don't sink in unless you stop and think for a bit. Lisle provides pauses in the action that allow for those realizations, and the double-crosses themselves become much more personal. About halfway through the book I realized it was going to be a tragedy—not told in action movie black and white, but in classic JTL shades of gray.