New York Times bestselling author Joy Fielding tells an unforgettable story of a newly divorced woman attempting to heal her heartache, only to find herself on a desperate search for her daughter. Fifty-year-old Marcy Taggart’s life is in shambles. Two years ago, her twenty-one-year-old daughter, Devon, perished in a canoeing accident. Her body was never found in the icy waters of Georgian Bay, and as a result Marcy has never fully accepted her death. She continues to see the young woman’s face in crowds and has even stopped strangers on the street, certain she has finally discovered her long lost daughter. Now in Ireland, on what was originally intended to be a celebration of her twenty-fifth wedding anniversary—if, that is, her husband had not left her for another woman—Marcy yet again thinks she sees her daughter, casually strolling past her on the sidewalk. So begins Marcy’s desperate search to find Devon, to find herself, and to find the disturbing truth that might, in the end, be her only salvation. Now You See Her vividly displays Fielding’s rare talent for creating the kind of tension, suspense, and compelling heroines readers crave. Riveting from start to finish, it’s one fans won’t want to miss. "Now You See Her keeps the reader guessing by delivering a satisfying and unpredictable plot. Above all, though, Now You See Her is about the strong bond between mothers and daughters, bonds that even death cannot destroy." --Winnipeg Free Press "An exciting book. . . . [Fielding] develops the psychological uncertainty slowly, carefully and subtly." --T"he Globe and Mail" " " "Marcy is one appealing character. Blunt, grief-stricken, and, finally, sick and tired of acting the good girl, she gives vent to her emotions and comes into her own." "--Booklist " "Fielding succeeds in creating a winning heroine." "--Publishers Weekly" "From the Hardcover edition." Joy Fielding is the New York Times bestselling author of Now You See Her , The Wild Zone , Still Life , Charley’s Web , Heartstopper , Mad River Road , Puppet , Lost , Whispers and Lies , Grand Avenue , The First Time , See Jane Run , and other acclaimed novels. She divides her time between Toronto and Palm Beach, Florida. Visit her website at JoyFielding.com. ONE O KAY, IF YOU’LL ALL just gather around me for a few seconds, I’ll give you a wee bit of information about this glorious building in front of you.” The guide smiled encouragingly at the group of tired and somewhat bedraggled-looking tourists milling around the front of St. Anne’s Shandon Church. “That’s it, darlin’,” he cajoled in his exaggerated Irish lilt, the emerald-green scarf in his hand waving impatient circles around his portly frame. “Move in a little closer, young lady. I won’t bite you.” His smile widened, revealing a bottom row of spectacularly stained and crooked teeth. Good thing her husband hadn’t made the trip to Ireland after all, Marcy Taggart thought, taking several reluctant steps forward. He’d have interpreted the poor man’s lack of a perfect smile as a personal affront. People spend all this money on facelifts and designer clothes, and they forget about the most important thing of all—their teeth , he often fumed. Peter was an orthodontist and therefore prone to such pronouncements. Hadn’t he once told her that the first thing that had attracted him to her wasn’t her slim figure or her large, dark brown eyes but rather her obvious regard for oral hygiene, as evidenced by her straight, flawlessly white teeth? To think she’d once found such statements flattering, even romantic; Marcy marveled at it now. “Can I have your full attention, please?” the tour guide asked with only a hint of reproach in his voice. He was clearly used to the casual rudeness of those in his charge and had ceased to take offense. Even though the largely middle-aged group of twenty-four men and women had paid a lot of money for the day’s excursion to Cork, the Republic of Ireland’s second-largest city, with a population of approximately 120,000, only a handful of those in attendance had actually been paying attention to anything the man had been saying since leaving Dublin. Marcy had tried, she really had. She’d repeatedly instructed herself to focus as the guide educated them on the history of Cork during the seemingly interminable bus ride, 168 miles of severely congested highway and narrow country roads. She’d learned that the name Cork was derived from the Irish word “ corcach, ” pronounced “kar-kax,” meaning “marshy place,” because of its situation on the river Lee; that it had been founded in the sixth century AD and now served as the administrative center of county Cork, and that it was the largest city in the province of Munster. Corkorians, as they were known, often referred to Cork as “the real capital of Ireland.” Its nickname was “the Rebel County,” the town’s reputation for rebelliousness having something to do with its support of the English pret