Cemetery Girl

Cemetery Girl

A missing child is every parent's nightmare. What comes next is even worse in this riveting thriller from the bestselling author of Bring Her Home and Layover . Tom and Abby Stuart had everything: a perfect marriage, successful careers, and a beautiful twelve-year-old daughter, Caitlin. Then one day she vanished without a trace. For a while they grasped at every false hope and followed every empty lead, but the tragedy ended up changing their lives, overwhelming them with guilt and dread, and shattering their marriage. Four years later, Caitlin is found alive—dirty and disheveled, yet preternaturally calm. She won’t discuss where she was or what happened. And when the police arrest a suspect connected to the disappearance, Caitlin refuses to testify, leaving the Stuarts with a choice: Let the man who may be responsible for destroying their lives walk away, or take matters into their own hands.  And when Tom decides to try to uncover the truth for himself, he finds that nothing that has happened yet can prepare him for what he is about to discover. Praise for Cemetery Girl “ Cemetery Girl  grabbed me by the throat on page one and never let up. An intense, unrelenting powerhouse of a book, and the work of a master.”—#1  New York Times  bestselling author John Lescroart “An utterly compelling thriller...an absolutely riveting, absorbing read not to be missed.”— New York Times  bestselling author Lisa Unger “Trust me: you have never read a missing persons story like this one....A fast, mean head trip of a thriller that reads like a collaboration between Michael Connelly and the gothic fiction of Joyce Carol Oates, Cemetery Girl is one of those novels that you cannot shake after it's over. A winner on every level.”— New York Times bestselling author Will Lavender “Cemetery Girl is a smasher. It twists and turns and never lets go.”— New York Times bestselling author Jacquelyn Mitchard “A tense and terrifying journey that brims with emotional authenticity. Bell manages not only to build suspense effectively but also tell a story that goes way beyond simple thrills.”— Booklist “Disturbing, brilliantly engaging, and a must read for thriller fans.” —Suspense Magazine More Praise for David Bell and His Novels “One of the brightest and best crime fiction writers of our time.”— Suspense Magazine  “A natural storyteller and a superb writer.”—#1 New York Times bestselling author Nelson DeMille  “Taut, intelligent, and intense suspense that is deeply human.”—#1  New York Times bestselling author Mark Greaney  “Bell is a brilliant craftsman as well as storyteller.”— The Providence Journal David Bell  is a bestselling and award-winning author whose work has been translated into six languages. He’s currently an associate professor of English at Western Kentucky University in Bowling Green, Kentucky. He received an MA in creative writing from Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, and a PhD in American literature and creative writing from the University of Cincinnati. His novels include Bring Her Home ,  Since She Went Away ,  Somebody I Used to Know ,  The Forgotten Girl ,  Never Come Back ,  The Hiding Place , and  Cemetery Girl . Chapter One Somehow, the dog knew he wasn't coming back. I picked up Frosty's leash and jiggled it while walking to the door, but he didn't follow. Ordinarily, that sound made him jump and run, his nails clacking against our hardwood floors, but this time he slinked away, head down, eyes averted. I called his name, but he ignored me. So I went to him. Frosty was a big dog, a yellow Lab, gentle and friendly and smart enough to recognize something unusual in my voice, something that told him this wasn't going to be a normal walk. I made a grab for his collar. Frosty tucked his head down against his shoulder so I couldn't attach the leash. Up close, I smelled the rich scent of his fur, felt his hot breath against my hand. "Frosty, no." My frustration grew, and I gritted my teeth, felt the molars grind against one another in the back of my mouth. Frosty ducked even more. Without thinking, I brought my free hand up and gave him a little swat on the snout. He surprised me by yelping, and I immediately felt like a jerk, an indefensible son of a bitch. I'd never hit him before, not even during training. He cowered even more, but when I reached out again, he lifted his head, allowing me to attach the leash to his collar. I straightened up, took a deep breath. I felt utterly ineffectual. "What's going on?" I turned. Abby stood in the kitchen doorway. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her eyes were wide as she considered me. Even though it was Saturday, she wore a black skirt and striped blouse. Her feet were bare. She used to dress down on weekends, but now she dressed the same every day, as though she were about to rush off to church because she probably was. "Nothing," I said. "I thought I heard the dog squeal." "He did. I hit him." Her eyes