When Zeno Mayfield's daughter can't be found, everyone in the small Appalachian town of Carthage joins in the hunt. Alas, the trail leads to an Iraq War hero with an association to the family—and terrible memories of battle. Further complicating matters, it seems that the missing girl may have been estranged from her family long before she vanished. With a 50,000-copy first printing.

Multiaward winner Oates's latest work focuses on the disappearance and apparent murder of a talented but socially isolated 19-year-old by her sister's ex-fiancé. The multiple points of view allow us inside the minds of the shattered Iraqi war veteran accused of the crime, the deceased young woman's shocked and grieving family, and the young woman herself. In some ways, all are victims of wartime atrocities. Each perspective is involving; each character is complex and sympathetic. The result is a narrative that demands continual reevaluation of individuals and events, and readers are likely to race through the pages to unravel the mystery of what happened and why. The unexpected conclusion is very satisfying reading. This is a story about war, violence, mental illness, love, hatred, and, perhaps most of all, the will to survive and the healing power of forgiveness, all powerfully rendered by a master storyteller. VERDICT Recommended for fans of family dramas from Oates, such as We Were the Mulvaneys. [See Prepub Alert, 8/5/13.]—Evelyn Beck, Piedmont Technical Coll., Greenwood, SC

Oates (The Accursed) returns with another novel that ratchets up the unsettling to her signature feverish pitch. Beginning with an attention-grabbing opener that begets addictive reading—Zeno Mayfield and a search party are on the hunt for Mayfield's missing 19-year-old daughter, Cressida, in the Adirondack woods—the story chronicles the creepy circumstances surrounding the girl's assumed murder. Was she, as many in the upstate New York town of Carthage suspect, beaten to death and dumped in the Black River by her older sister's ex-fiancé, Brett Kincaid, a decorated Iraqi War vet? Or did she, the "dark twisty" daughter prone to excessive self-loathing, play some perverse role in her own disappearance? What transports the story beyond a carefully crafted whodunit is Oates's dogged exploration of each character's culpability in the case, which spans nearly seven years. Between Kincaid's noncoerced but PTSD-fueled confession and Cressida's feelings that her family didn't understand or love her enough (the source of her long-suppressed desire to escape from them), nearly everyone can somehow be held responsible for the supposed crime—and seen as its unintended victim. When the truth and its fallout finally becomes clear at the end, the mood is not surprisingly claustrophobic and grim. Once again, Oates's gift for exposing the frailty—and selfishness—of humans is on display. (Feb.)