With her cop husband away in New Jersey on a case, Goldy is rudely awakened by an early morning shooter who shatters her front window. Is it an act of revenge by her erstwhile catering clients the Lauderdales, stemming from an incident of child abuse Goldy reported? Is the incident connected to Tom's investigation of a FedEx delivery truck hijacking? Could the shooter be Goldy's abusive ex-husband John Richard Korman (AKA the Jerk), unexpectedly out on parole?

But before she can try to figure out what's what, Goldy has a couple of catering jobs at Hyde Castle, an authentic structure that was shipped over from Sussex, England and reassembled in Colorado. The castle's going to do duty as a conference center, and if she impresses, Goldy can look forward to a string of profitable catering jobs there. For safety, she rather improbably moves into the castle, along with her teenage son, Arch.

She quickly finds a dead body in the creek - someone she recognizes as the guy Tom's been after. When Tom (having taken an early flight back) arrives on the scene, he's shot by a sniper. Lying wounded, he tells a frantic Goldy, "I don't love her."

What's going on? Who blasted her window? Who killed the guy in the creek? Who shot Tom? Whom doesn't Tom love?

This novel is no refreshing repast, but a gristly goulash that includes snipers, ghosties, stamp collecting, not-so-dead lost love, hidden rooms, fencing, child abuse, e-mail, and a four-hundred-year-old letter. With the usual recurring cast of characters on hand, including Goldy's pal Marla and the ever-accommodating young chef Julian, as well as the Jerk's latest bimbo, a fencing instructor, the castle owner and his queen-of-clean wife, and myriad others, Sticks & Scones simply has too much of everything. It's as if the author had blithely dumped every oddment from her refrigerator into a crock-pot and set it bubbling, hoping it would blend into something palatable, but this recipe simply doesn't work.

Goldy is not particularly likable in this concoction; she flits around looking for clues to murder and infidelity with equal relish while her husband is recovering from a gunshot wound. She continues to be battered - not by her abusive ex-husband this time around, but somehow the author can't seem to resist having Goldy be injured; here she's bonked on the head and then scalded. It's really quite unpleasant in an escapist entertainment to have to deal with so much victimization of and physical injury to a character one is supposed to care for.

The lengthy sequence wherein Goldy figures out the solution to the mystery while running for her life is tedious to read and far too involved. Anyway, by that point, it's hard to care.

No compliments to the chef this time. Send this dish back to the kitchen.

--Eleanor Mikucki