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Had this been left as a short story or a novella, it would have gotten a much better rating. I absolutely loved the first 80 pages or so. Affecting, comedic, disturbing, creepy, heartwarming, etc etc. Unfortunately, some the of the characters ended up bugging me too much, and the story went from poignant to afflicting, from comedic to moronic, from heartwarming to dull. The edgy wise-cracking, and apparently omniscient, grandma was a stupid idea for this story. We already have a dead girl up in “heaven” telling the reader what's going on in everyone's mind. The concept of the world-weary granny picking up on nuances that went unexplained to the reader was annoying and messed up the flow for me. That the mom of the dead girl and the emotionally reserved tough guy detective developed a budding romance...C'MON! F'real?! That idea would've best been reserved for an episode of ER or some other crap. The rift that developed between the mother and father could've been formulated much more subtly. Throwing an affair (and a fuck at the mall??) in there was just plain lazy. I quit reading the book shortly after the braniac turned spy-kid younger sister broke into the murderer's basement. And how do we know who the murderer is? Well, the dead girl tells us. That makes sense. But Dad knows who the murderer is, too, because he built a tent with the guy in his backyard...and he just knows...the wind blew in the right direction or some stupid thing. And grandma knows because Dad told her...and because Dad helped the murderer build a tent in the murderer's backyard, and the wind blew just so...well! It MUST be true! And the braniac spy-kid younger sister knows who the murderer is because both Dad and Grandma told her. My interest in this book totally vanished. Dang, too bad, cuz this thing started out so so good. Better luck next time, Alice. I like your writing style, at least.