In a twisty, claustrophobic suburban suspense novel for fans of Ruth Ware and Liane Moriarty, the aftermath of a murder in a quiet coastal New England town reveals a web of dark secrets among friends . . .
"An inventive and fiendishly-layered exploration of secrets dark and deep." -LOU BERNEY, Edgar-winning author of November Road
"Hill navigates the dark corners and complicated relationships of a small, seaside town with precision and panache." -ALEX SEGURA, bestselling author of Secret Identity
In a twisty, claustrophobic suburban suspense novel for fans of Ruth Ware and Liane Moriarty, the aftermath of a murder in a quiet coastal New England town reveals a web of dark secrets among friends . . .
"An inventive and fiendishly-layered exploration of secrets dark and deep." -LOU BERNEY, Edgar-winning author of November Road
"Hill navigates the dark corners and complicated relationships of a small, seaside town with precision and panache." -ALEX SEGURA, bestselling author of Secret Identity
Monreith, Massachusetts, was once a small community of whalers and farmers. These days it's a well-to-do town filled with commuters drawn to its rugged coastline and country roads. A peaceful, predictable place-until popular restaurateur Laurel Thibodeau is found brutally murdered in her own home. Suspicion naturally falls on Laurel's husband, Simon, who had gambling debts that only her life insurance policy could fix. But there are other rumors too . . .
Among the group of six friends gathered for Alice Stone's fortieth birthday, theories abound concerning Laurel's death. Max Barbosa, police chief, has heard plenty of them, as has his longtime friend, Unitarian minister Georgia Fitzhugh. Local psychiatrist Farley Drake is privy to even more, gleaning snippets of gossip and information from his patients while closely guarding his own past.
But maybe everyone in Monreith has something to hide. Because before this late-summer evening has come to a close, one of these six will be dead. And as jealousy, revenge, adultery, and greed converge, the question becomes not who among these friends might be capable of such a thing, but-who isn't?
