I found this book in a take a book, leave a book shelf in a campsite in France. And I wish I had left it.
Interestingly the book I read immediately before this one was also crime novel. In 'The Bugles Blowing' by Nicholas Freeling, the murderer makes himself known to the detective in the very first chapter. That book had more suspense and intrigue that this book.
The dialogue in the book is simply dreadful; it's full of unnecessary descriptive words. Nobody actually says anything but they gush, tweak, sooth and do dozens of other things when they talk; this gets pretty annoying after about two pages.
The characters are not very well written either. Pretty much stock characters such as the slightly slutty one, the stern but matronly one, the sweet but slightly dotty old lady etc. all straight out of central casting as they say. A few background scenes are inserted to give the characters a bit of depth are often as not handled with such bland, mealy-mouthed prudishness that completely fails to be either believable or humourous.
The main character, Kelly, is neither credible nor interesting as a protagonist. She's supposed to be some sort of whizz-kid accountant but has only a few thousand dollars of savings to show for it, and who goes around speaking of financial prudence, despite owning an expensive (and unbelievably intelligent) dog and renting a townhouse in Washington that is clearly too large and expensive for her needs and budget. Basically, she has most of the hallmarks of a classic Mary-Sue character.
The whole story wraps up with a bunch of clunking great plot devices being slung in pretty much at random from about the middle of the book onwards.
Avoid this book. If you enjoy reading about knitting, get a book about that and if you want to read a crime novel, there are plenty of better ones than this piece of rubbish.