The Lake House by Kate Morton is part historical fiction, part gothic mystery and part family saga–which means it’s 100% Elyse-bait.

The mystery that binds this book together involves the disappearance of an eleven-month-old baby, Theo Edevane, in 1933. The Edevanes were a prominent family in England, and they were hosting their annual Midsummer’s Night party at their summer home in Cornwall the night he vanished from his nursery.

The book centers around three women: Alice Edevane, Theo’s older sister; Eleanor Edevane, Theo and Alice’s mother; and Sadie Sparrow, a policewoman. We get each woman’s POV (third person) as the narrative jumps around in time–Alice offers the perspective of a sixteen-year-old as she attends the family party in 1933. We learn about the Edevane family and how they survived financial decay and WWI from Eleanor as we watch her as a young woman in the early 20th century.

Sadie enters into the story in 2003; she’s on leave from her job after fouling up a child abandonment case. She’s on holiday in Cornwall, licking her wounds, when she stumbles upon the Edevane lake house in the woods–now a crumbling, decaying ruin. She’s intrigued and learns about how Theo’s disappearance went cold, and she becomes obsessed with solving the case. Luckily for Sadie, Alice (now an octogenarian mystery author) is still alive and living in London. Unluckily, she has no desire to see the case reopened.

Now, in my world a lake house usually means a cabin with or without indoor plumbing. In the Edevane’s world the lake house is really an estate (it has a name, Loeanneth), so it’s not as if Sadie stumbles on some decrepit Ted Kaczynski looking shack and immediately sees the appeal. Loeanneth is a full on gothic mansion swallowed by the forest.

It took awhile for this book to get going, partially because it’s so rich in detail. Eleanor’s section of the book comprises the family saga portion of this novel. She’s a debutante with a dead father, a bunch of family debt, and a mom who wants to marry her off at sixteen to the highest bidder. She finds love outside her class, endures the fear and uncertainty surrounding WWI, and builds a life for her children while single-handedly holding the family together.

Alice’s sections in 1933 set the stage for the mystery–her perspective is that of a teenager caught up in her own drama. She’s an unreliable narrator purely because the details she remembers may or may not have relevance to the case. She paints Loeanneth as a magical world, secluded and beautiful. The mother she sees in Eleanor is strict and aloof, very different from the vulnerable girl the reader gets in Eleanor’s own passages.

The sections with Sadie in 2003 are what give the mystery momentum. As Sadie investigates Theo’s disappearance, she cogently outlines what we know about the family from the historical sections and how it’s relevant to the case. She also has to contend with the case that had her put on leave, one that remains unsolved and haunts her.

The Lake House is a significant undertaking, and Morton almost manages to balance it all. As Sadie holds the thread of the mystery together, Alice and Eleanor peel back layers of detail to clue the reader into what might have happened. I will say that there are lots of plausible theories when the book starts, and every chapter I read led credence to a possible answer. As far as mysteries go, this one keeps you guessing. There’s also no on-stage violence in this mystery (or sex), so it’s perfect for readers who want the thrills without the gore. Or boning.

The issue was that the time jumps can be confusing. Sometimes Alice is in 1933, sometimes 2003. Sometimes I forgot if we were reading about a period before, during or after Theo’s disappearance. The narrative is rambling, but it’s also wholly immersive–easily one of the most immersive books I’ve read in awhile. Once I got a third of the way in, I had a hard time putting it down.

All of the complexity and detail does lead up to a mostly satisfying ending. There was one facet that made me roll my eyes a little, but for the most part I felt like my time had been well spent. For those balking at the price tag (it’s definitely spendy), you do get a lot of book for your buck–about 600 pages worth.

The Lake House had some issues–there is A LOT going on here, tons of threads to keep track of–but it totally sucked me in. Once the novel gets its momentum, it barrels at you like a freight train. Historical fiction and mystery fans might want to put this on hold at the local library, at least while it’s still in hardcover.