After reading the final paragraph and pondering what felt like an abrupt end, I wasn't sure whether the book would be considered genre fiction (mystery) or just fiction-with-a-social-message. I had been operating under the expectation that the murder discovered in the opening chapter, the one that drives the plot forward for over 200 pages, would be explained and another whodunnit would be solved. Instead it seems the author's idea was to replace a crucial explanation scene at the end with one that would again drive home her social message about violence against women.
Were lesbians of the early 90s (when this book was written) not acutely aware of violence against women, so this book would have been enlightening? Along with some dated references about technology ("[I] hooked up my modem to their modem") and a distinct lack of smartphones/Google that would have eliminated some legwork in this book, I felt like maybe there was something larger I was missing because I was reading the book a couple of decades after its publishing. I was confused at the end expecting a clear explanation of the murder instead of a drop-off ending.
Early in the book, a blind homeless person is specifically described as having more "vision" than sighted people, setting her up for relevation of key information later on. Instead, this character drops off with just a third-person mention in a later scene. Missed opportunity!
Normally I'm not a fiction reader, but this was a really quick read. I started the book on a direct flight from Portland (OR) to Chicago and it was compelling enough I was 100 pages in when the plane landed. Over the next few days I read the rest. I picked the book from a Little Free Library in SW Portland, sucked in due to the description of the dog (Aggie) on the first page, who obviously wasn't going to be a throwaway character.