I can describe this book in one word: Lame. Laughable. Amateurish. Boring. Take your pick. The amateur sleuth in this one decides she is going to interview all the people connected to the victim, so she makes appointments to talk to each one. Even though she has no official standing, and is not related to the victim, each one of these people, instead of telling her to "get lost and mind your own business", readily agrees to meet with her. They then proceed to tell her personal details of their relationship with the victim, such as having had an affair, and point the finger of suspicion at others. Not only was this interview-after-interview style monotonously dull, I find it hard to believe anyone would confide such personal information to a complete stranger. In addition, our sleuth has a romantic relationship with the detective investigating the murder. With knowledge of her activities, which include entering the crime scene apartment of a victim without permission, he looks the other way and continues to allow her blatant meddling in police affairs.
The author also loves lengthy descriptions of places, furnishings, and meals. Every place that our sleuth goes in Milwaukee gets a lengthy description that would be better suited to a travel guide. Every room that she enters has each piece of furniture described in exhaustive detail. And what I found most laughable, we were treated to an itemized list of EVERY food she ate at EVERY meal, sometimes even including a list of all the ingredients in a particular dish (what was on her salad, what went into the casserole). Clearly this author has a hankering to be a food writer rather than a mystery writer. I would have abandoned this book in the early stages, but, after a point, I continued to read it for the amusement value, wondering if it could get even worse. ( )