“Hunched against the freezing January rain, Madeline Barker felt her fingernails cut into her palms. Standing with her stepbrother, stepsister and stepmother, she watched the police and several volunteers attempt to pul her father’s car out of the abandoned water-fil ed quarry. Her head pounded from lack of sleep, and her chest was so tight she almost couldn’t breathe, yet she stood perfectly stil … waiting. After almost twenty years, she might final y have some answers about her father’s disappearance.
Toby Pontiff, Stil water, Mississippi’s, police chief, knelt at the lip of the yawning hole. “Careful, careful there, Rex,”
he cal ed over the high-pitched whine of the winch attached to a massive tow truck.
Joe Vincel i and his brother, Roger, Madeline’s first cousins, hovered on the other side of the quarry, their faces betraying their anticipation. They spoke animatedly to each other, but Madeline couldn’t hear them above the noise.
She was fairly sure she didn’t want to.