With his terrific new novel, THE VANISHERS, ace mystery writer R.G. Belsky has teleported his considerable mastery of spinning compelling and fast-paced stories with spine-bending plot twists to an entirely different genre, the paranormal thriller.

 

While the reader might be tempted to draw immediate comparisons with the works of the great Stephen King, to do so might blind you to Belsky’s unique way of telling this tale without a hint of mimicry and with the surefooted steps of an author who avoids the pitfalls and cliches that trip up lesser literary mortals treading this hallowed ground.

 

In short, THE VANISHERS is a triumph that doesn’t lean on the legend. It stands on its own two feet, delivering the thrills and spills Belsky fans have come to expect from his award-winning Clare Carlson and Gil Malloy mysteries.

 

The crafty ways Belksy uses to capture and hold a reader’s attention include his relentless focus on the very human qualities of his characters. This is particularly true of the increasingly desperate protagonist, Megan Foley, who seems to be the only one who notices the steady disappearance of fellow guests of a seaside Connecticut summer home where she and her husband Patrick hope will give them the quiet togetherness they need to save their marriage.

 

Both are busy New Yorkers with their eyes on the next rung of the career ladder instead of each other — she’s an assistant DA; he’s a college lit professor who wants to write a book on his chosen field. They both know the marriage is in trouble but can’t shift their focus to fix it while swept up by the demands of their jobs and the frenetic rhythm of city.

 

They can’t believe their good luck in finding this beautiful Victorian-era house. Can’t believe it’s so cheap to rent a room for the summer. With amenities galore, including sailboats and a stupendous TV room with a mammoth screen that mesmerizes everybody but Megan.

 

Something makes her wary. She can’t quite put her finger on why, but the grandmotherly owner of the house, the preternaturally cheerful Mrs. Monahan, creeps her out. Patrick seems oblivious and keeps pushing her to make friends with the other guest and watch TV with him. She pushes back. What about your book? What about us?

 

And then the guests start disappearing. One-by-one. The first is little Tommy, the youngest son of the Beechams. He loses his Nintendo and accuses his older brother of swiping it. Then vanishes.

 

Megan asks about him. Who, dear? The Beechams have only one son, Mrs. Monahan tells her. Even mom and dad Beecham tell her that. Maybe you’d like to relax and watch some TV, dear.

 

Later, when Megan returns to the city for her work week, she tries to find Tommy’s birth record. There isn’t one. When she surreptitiously talks to neighbors of the Beechams, they tell her there’s only one son.

 

That becomes the pattern — each disappearance marked by the person losing something. An iPod. A watch. Then, gone. With absolutely no trace they ever existed — in the public record or the memory of friends and loved ones. Leaving Megan to doubt her sanity, a sentiment shared by fellow guests and co-workers, except for a randy colleague names Jackie.

 

Then Patrick disappears. So does the entire house and all the remaining guests. Instead of driving Megan to the nuthouse, this causes her to take a leave of absence from work and launch an obsessive quest to find her husband. And that house.

 

It’s a trail that leads her to Sam, a puckish Mets fan and professor who specializes in the study of unexplained phenomena, including the infamous Bermuda Triangle disappearances and other similar events.

 

The pace goes into hyperdrive and the quest includes a whiz kid hacker and technological genius Megan once kept out of prison. But Belsky never resorts to the gadget-driven gimmickry that would beg for a massive dose of CGI in the movie version of this tale.

 

Wisely, he keeps the focus on Megan and her small band of eccentric but believable irregulars. It’s the people, stupid. They’re the ones that keep you turning the page, savoring the saga of a master storyteller.

 

— Jim Nesbitt is the author of five hard-boiled Texas crime thrillers featuring a battered but relentless Dallas PI named Ed Earl Burch.