Review copy was received from NetGalley, Publisher. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.

Narrator: Amy Rubinate
Published by Brilliance Audio, Thomas & Mercer on January 1, 2021
Genres: Thriller
Pages: 364
Length: 11 hours, 16 minutes
Format: Audiobook, eARC
Source: NetGalley, Publisher
Goodreads
Amazon,Ā Audible




Itās what Sarah Ellsworth dreamed of. Marriage to her childhood sweetheart, Martin. Living in a historic mansion in Pennsylvaniaās most exclusive borough. And Finn, a teenage son with so much promise. Untilā¦A call for help in the middle of the night leads Sarah and Martin to the woods, where they find Finn, injured, dazed, and weeping near his girlfriendās dead body. Convinced heās innocent, Sarah and Martin agree to protect their son at any cost and not report the crime.
But there are things Sarah finds hard to reconcile: a cover-up by Martinās family thatās so unnervingly cold-blooded. Finnās lies to the authorities are too comfortable, too proficient, not to arouse her suspicions. Even the secrets of the old house she lives in seem to be connected to the incident. As each troubling event unfolds, Sarah must decide how far sheāll go to save her perfect life.
There is the dual aspect of a murder mystery along with a family secrets thriller in Sweet Water.Ā I admired the main character, Sarah. She really tried to do the right things and she cared for other people. She was so naive though.Ā She definitely allows herself to see what she wants to believe. Sarah’s father is an amazing man and parent.Ā He loved and supported her in everything, even when she made choices he didn’t like.
I can totally understand her need for more information and not believing her son could murder someone.Ā It would be very hard to trust law enforcement to make an effort, even if you are wealthy. I worried about her efforts to dig out the truth because it was likely someone out there did commit murder. In fact, I was sure her husband or crazy in-laws would kill her!
There was a companion to the present with flashbacks to how Sarah met her husband and ended up marrying him. It was useful to have that history and the other relationships in her life. Ā It also clarifies why she had some blinders.Ā It’s certainly easy to be lax with the wealth to not worry about any needs and enjoy the extras available.
I enjoyed Sarah’s courage to find and tell the truth. Her personal growth and willingness to be honest are uplifting in a time of bad happenings.
Excerpt:
Chapter 1
I reach for my phone inside my purse slung around my neck. Itās dangling behind my back because I had nowhere else to put it while examining the body. āSarah, is she breathing?ā Martin asks. I turn my head to find him, but itās too dark.
I stumble, disoriented under the canopy of trees. Weāre somewhere off Fern Hollow Road, the closest turnoff to Finnās pinned iPhone location.
āI d-donāt know,ā I sputter, still shocked we found her and not Finn when we parked the car and hiked the rest of the way into Sewickley Heights Park.
āCheck herānow. I need to find Finn.ā Martinās voice fades into the forest, and all I want to do is follow him, but I just spoke to my son on the phone. His speech was slurred, and his girlfriend is . . .
āOh God.ā I open my mouth and let out a strangled breath, so sick that I sway to the side.
My eyes water as I kneel beside Yazmin Veltri, a girl Iāve known for only the briefest period. The wetness soaks through the holes in my jeans, settling into my bare kneecaps, ice on bone.
āYazmin?ā I shine my phoneās light in her direction, but Iām stopped by the certain hint of marijuana.
Shit. All these years working with at-risk young women, and I couldnāt see that Finn was dating one.
āPlease,ā I beg the starlit sky peeking through the trees. āLet her be breathing.ā
I sniffle and inhale the truth through the rotting leaves. Something terrible has happened here, and Iām too late. The autumn mist snakes in through my nose, out through my mouth, emitting tiny white puffs of air.
The forest ground is slippery, a feathered blanket beneath my knees, slathering the tops of my shoes.
I hear more hurried footsteps. Martin sounds like a mouse lost in a maze. Has he found Finn? I need to go to him, but my husband told me to stay here.
The branches scratch the tops of my feet as I move closer to her, the fallen leaves collecting between my knees. Yazmin could still be alive. A bitter taste rises in my mouth as I bite my tongue, and Iām close enough to touch her now.
My arm trembles as I place two fingers on the cold flesh of her neck. Not only coldāwet. I canāt see what Iām touching, but I can feel her absence. Right below her jawline, in the space beside her trachea where I know a steady drumbeat should exist, thereās nothing.
No pulse. My heartbeat quickens and plummets. Oh God.
My blood is rushing. Pounding. Iām sweating despite the near-thirty-degree temperature. I dip my head closer to Yazminās chest, careful not to tangle my hair with hers. Iāve checked on my kids enough times in the middle of the night to know this girlās not breathing. I shut my eyes and listen anyway.
Sure enough, the steady rise and fall of Yazminās chest is absent along with her pulse.
āSheās dead. We have to call the police,ā I announce, loud enough for Martin to hear, but not nearly as loud as the screaming in my head.
Call somebody! Help!
I hear Martin crunch closer, and I turn my back on the girl.
I scoot up on my legs and use my hands to push myself into a crouching position. My breath is heavy, and everything on my bodyāmy hands, my kneesārattles with fear. I hear a cry in the distance.
My sonās cry. And then Martinās rustling footsteps. Beside me again.
āWhere is he?ā I ask.
āHeās okay, but . . .ā Martin nods to the right. āHeās injured. We need to get him out of here, Sarah.ā
āOkay,ā I say, but I close my eyes because my head is a ringing bell of stress even though this wooded area is one of the things that drew me to this town. The park is near the country club where weāre members, where Martinās family have been members for years, and things like this just donāt happen here.
āLetās go, Sarah!ā Martin urges.
My eyes snap open, and I hold up my phone. āWait. Iām calling 911. For her.ā
āNo.ā Martin swats my hand away with the flick of his strong knuckles. The blood on my palms makes everything slick, and my cell phone goes flying across the forest like a bar of soap in the shower. I slip sideways into a bramble of branches and land on my left hip, staring at my husbandās garish face in the moonlight. He looks unfamiliar, that expression one reserved for when he loses business at work, a rare occurrence. Martin is an innovator, his causes noble. Sometimes I donāt approve of how he does things, but I usually approve of why.
āDamn it.ā Martin scrambles to find my phone. Right now, I donāt approve at all.
āWhy did you do that?ā I ask, but Iām more surprised that heās hit me than I am by the fact that he doesnāt agree with my decision to call the police.
āIt will get reported tomorrow. We need to leave with Finn. Now.ā
āWhat? That makes no sense.ā
Martin retrieves my phone, and Iām trying to get his attention, but heās looking right past me at the gas pipeline in the distance, a clear-cut, inclined path free of foliage about a thousand yards long in the mountainous terrain. Martin and I messed around with sleds one winter on a protected slope of land just like it, and I think maybe Finn and Yazmin planned their own adventure out here tonight and something went terribly wrong.
āMartin.ā I try to get up, but my foot slips on a mossy rock.
He grabs my arm. Then drops it. āWatch yourself,ā he says, but he doesnāt help me rise. Heās too busy texting.
Itās then that I hear water rushing nearby. The river rocks are indigenous to this area, like everything else woodsy and serene in Sewickley.
Sewickley, the Shawnee word for sweet water, derived from the tribeās belief that the boroughās shores were a little sweeter on that stretch of the Ohio River, the maple trees that grow at its shores only part of the saccharine story.
āWhoāre you texting?ā Iām crying and my hands are still wet, but I canāt wipe them. Thereās blood all over my palms, and I canāt remember how it got there; head wounds bleed the worst.
āHold on!ā Martin is standing with his back to me now, holding his phone in the air like heās trying to decide what to do with it, a six-foot silhouette of trepidation. He scratches his dark hair and rubs his cell phone on his sweater-vest, but he doesnāt use it to call anyone, only texts.
āIām getting legal advice from my father,ā Martin says.
His father?
I picture William Sr. texting back from the comfort of one of his high-back chairs inside his home, one of the few estates that make up Sewickley Heights like a richly woven patchwork quiltāthe expensive kind sewn together with colonials surrounded by alabaster columns and mile-long driveways.
āMartin?ā
Williamās house is a fat-thatched Tudor hiding behind manicured bushes, a peek of white here, a slip of brown there, but thereās no hiding from this.
āOf course you have to report it!ā I look againāat herāand the blood is already congealing around her open head wound, her neck bent at an awkward angle, a matchstick snapped in half. The rushing water streams just behind her.
Martinās tugging on my coat. āGet up, Sarah. We have to go.ā
āWe canāt leave her.ā Yazminās long black hair is covering the expression on her face, although the one I imagine is stuck there will haunt me more than the one I cannot see. She rests on her back, and it would be an odd way to fall, backward instead of forward, her hands crossed over her chest as if she were thwarting an attack. It reminds me of a tae kwon do block from when Finn used to take classes. Weād enrolled him when he was a child because he was painfully shy, whereas Spencer, his older brother, was frequently mentioned by his teachers as boisterous or exuberant, adjectives used in private schools to describe disruptive overachievers. I might expect Spencer to get into trouble with a girl like this, but not my poor Finny.
I turn toward Martin. Heās speaking, but Iāve stopped listening.
His eyes are pleading. āSheās dead. We canāt help her. Finn was the last person with her.ā
āButāā
āHeās on something, Sarah. Drugs.ā Martin shakes his head furiously. āThis looks bad.ā
I can hear what heās saying, but Iāve retreated into my own body, and I donāt even know who we are right now.
We used to be Martin and Sarah Ellsworth of Blackburn Road.
We were the couple sitting at a corner table at a fancy restaurant, splitting a bottle of wine. Laughing at each otherās jokes.
āWe have to do something for her.ā My voice is swallowed by the humming sounds of the forest and the flapping of the leaves on the trees, the river. Sheās already dead, but we need to make sure sheās at least taken to the hospital so her parents can identify her. Bile rises in my mouth. My heart is beating so fast, drowning out everything else, but I faintly hear Finnās voice again nearby.
āIām sorry.ā Martin extends his arm to help me up, but I waggle my finger in the air at him, pointing to my hands, reminding my brainy husband that Iām bloodied and pulling me up isnāt a good idea. I mustāve made the mistake of touching Yazmin in the wrong place.
āRight.ā He draws his palms back.
My legs wonāt work. I gaze up, silently praying. The large enveloping trees of Sewickley Heights tower above us like old wealthy gatekeepers winking in the night.
āI need your help. I canāt move him on my own, Sarah,ā Martin reveals.
I close my eyes, wishing it all away. Itās all a bad dream.
āCan we just make an anonymous call from a pay phone or something? For her parentsā sake, at least?ā
āYou canāt. Theyāll try to interview Finn, see the drug use, and assume the worst. Heāll go to jail.ā His voice is thick with desperation. āSarah, this will ruin Finnās life. This isnāt his fault!ā Martin kicks a stone with his worn loafer, a product from one of the posh boutiques that line downtown Sewickley, a mishmash of overpriced things people donāt really need displayed in windowed storefronts on cobblestone streets. Thereās a place to reupholster old furniture with patterns better left to die with their original owners, a claw-foot-tub specialist, an herbal spa with enough fresh fruit remedies to double as a bakery, the imported-leather-shoe store.
I bought Martin the shoes he has on now, and heās worn them down to the soles. Heās practical, a computer engineer and CEO of a robotics start-up in the Strip District. He does things that make sense.
But right now, heās not making any.
āMaybe she slipped.ā My voice is shallow like the night air sneaking away from my lips, but the idea of an accident fills my heart with hope. āWeāll leave an anonymous tip.ā If I had my phone, Iād call myself.
Iād explain this is exactly how we found her. She wasnāt even near our son when we discovered her body.
Unless . . . weāve messed with the scene of the crime so much that weāve hurt Finn more than helped him. I look down at my bloody hands and cringe. As far as we know, Finn is the last one who saw Yazmin alive. This could be very bad for him. āShit.ā
Martin grabs me by the arm. āWe have to go, Sarah. Get up.ā I canāt see much of Martinās face but the stringy blue vein in his forehead that only comes out when heās upset.
Itās been only minutes, but we need to moveāfaster.
āWe need to go to him,ā I say.
āYes.ā Martin nods.
Iām in shock. Thatās whatās wrong with me. I blindly follow Martin, adrenaline fueling my limbs. Finn is off the beaten path, and I feel as though Iāve already failed him for taking so long. Heās huddled over a pile of leaves, his knees tucked into his chest like he used to do when he was a little kid. He looks so small right now.
So young.
A little boy who fell off his scooter and skinned his knee. I wish this problem were as easy to fix.
I wipe my hands on my jeans and throw my arms around him.
āIām here. Momās here.ā Finnās crying and I donāt know how to make it better for him. He obviously didnāt mean for the girl to get hurt, but this was no accident either. Heās made a terrible mistake, gotten himself into a horrible predicament. So Finn did what we always told him to do if he was ever in troubleāhe called us.
***Excerpt from Sweet Water by Cara Reinard. Copyright 2021 by Cara Reinard. Reproduced with permission from Cara Reinard. All rights reserved.
Narration:
The voice seemed to fit well with Sarah. She is the main character so we are in her thoughts and point of view.Ā Ā The performance brought the emotions to life in the story.Ā I enjoyed listening at 1.25x speed.
Listen to a clip:
Tour Giveaway:
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Cara Reinard. There will be two (2) winners each receiving one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card. The giveaway runs through February 2, 2021.
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Narration (Audio) | |
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Reading this book contributed to these challenges:
- C21-Winter
Your review has intrigued me because now I want to know more about Sarah.
Sarah was a great character. She was relatable and probably a better person than I could be in some ways, yet she had her flaws.
Sarah sounds like a very human, believable character, and I’d like to read this and find out more. Plus the idea is intriguing!
Sarah is and even with her flaws, I think she might be better than I would be able to be in some of this. It was a horrible situation but I think justice was served in the end.
This sounds like a very interesting read. I’ve been wanting to read more Thrillers lately. And I looove that cover.
I’m glad you enjoyed this one. š
This would be a good one. I also would recommend Pretty Little Wife by Darby Kane. Thrillers are a staple in my reading.
This looks really good! I like the setup and am glad you enjoyed the story. Itās definitely one Iāll consider. Excellent review, Anne?
Thank you Jonetta. I think you would enjoy it. The decisions of morality and human emotions are realistic. There was plenty of wrong doing all around but I think justice was served eventually.
I hadn’t heard of this before but your review has me wanting to run out and read it. This sounds like something I would really like.
I hope you enjoy it if you fit it into your reading. There are plenty of things to figure out and some real ethical questions to ponder. Sarah is a great character, too.
This sounds wonderful! Sarah sounds like a great character and I couldn’t imagine being in her situation.
I really enjoyed this. Sarah is a great character and characters are key to any story.
Oh it looks like it’s a good mystery book there!
It is a mystery and a family relationships drama as well.
I like the idea for this one:)
It certainly has the mystery and suspense of what did and will hapen.
I like the sound of this one! I hope everything worked out for Sarah and her son! I’ve enjoyed Amy Rubinate’s in the past so I’ll look up the audio. Lovely review, Anne!
Thank you Rachel. It was an intense story because there were many hard decisions.
Sarah sounds like such a great character. I already want to know more about her. Thanks for sharing an excerpt too so I could get a taste of the author’s writing style.
It’s intensely emotional. I enjoyed it.