This is a quirky book about a quirky family. I found myself enjoying this book more than I expected to.
On hiatus from her parents’ detective firm, Izzy ponders the suspicious
behavior of her straitlaced, type-A brother David, who has traded his
Brooks Brothers suits for a bathrobe and taken to calling in sick to
work. (He has no clue Izzy has been living in the basement apartment of
his house.)
Izzy also looks into the life of Linda Black, whose husband,
Ernie, is certain she’s cheating on him. Or could that expensive
clothing and perfume she’s been bringing home simply be the sign of a
serious shoplifting problem? Izzy must once again contend with Rae, her
troublemaking, Twizzler-chomping teenage sister, who’s been “relocating”
Izzy’s car to various spots around the city. (Izzy has enough trouble
finding her wheels when she parks them herself.)
Then there’s Henry
Stone, Izzy’s police inspector ex-boyfriend, who has an annoyingly
likable new squeeze. Rounding out this mordant mix is Izzy herself,
whose court-mandated therapy sessions boast more quips than a Groucho
Marx retrospective.
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