Saltwater

“Let me tell you about the very rich,” wrote F. Scott Fitzgerald. “They are different from you and me.” And Kathy Hays’s Saltwater does a spectacular job of illustrating not just how they are different, but why. Back in 1992, Sarah Lingate—a Lingate by marriage, not blood—took a tumble down the cliffs behind the family’s villa in Capri during their annual vacation. She left behind Helen, her three-year-old daughter; Richard, her madly controlling husband; and other relatives and hangers-on. Was Sarah pushed or did she jump? Pushed is what most of the island thought, but with their vast resources, the old-money Lingates were able to insure that her death was ruled an accident. Thirty years later the Lingates, like so many swallows, are making their annual pilgrimage, as though to prove to the world that they are beyond public opinion. But as one disturbing incident after another occurs—who sent them the necklace Sarah wore to her death?—cracks and fissures begin to show. Written from three points-of-view: that of Helen, who desperately wants to escape from the family; Sarah, speaking right before her death; and Lorna, a personnel assistant who has disappeared, this novel creates a world and then takes it apart, in the most shocking of ways. For readers who enjoy contemplative crime dramas.