A charming street in small-town Ohio is rocked by the sudden disappearance of one of its residents. The shock reverberates through the neighbors as they are left to piece together the puzzle — and all the while a parallel story reveals a relationship that wasn’t what it seemed. But did that relationship actually end up being lethal?

In Pittsburgh native Jessica Strawser’s new novel, “Not That I Could Tell,” the specter of domestic abuse haunts a neighborhood as the central mystery gives way to a heartbreaking parable about the debilitating effects of violence.

On a clear Saturday night, a group of women has gathered together at a backyard fire to drink a little wine, get away from the kids, and enjoy each other’s company. On Sunday, as the friends nurse their hangovers, they find that one of their number — a mother of two named Kristin — has disappeared, along with her children and a large amount of insurance money.

As days pass, Kristin’s neighbors are left to comb through their hazy memories of that fateful night for hints as to what’s happened to her all while wrapped in their own personal narratives. Izzy, the neighborhood’s newest resident, is coping with an unsatisfying job and a devastating betrayal while Clara, Kristin’s closest friend, must deal with a precocious young neighbor, her own family, and the dawning realization that she barely knew Kristin at all.

When Kristin’s estranged husband, Paul, moves back into the home they used to share, his arrival sows discord among the neighbors: Some see Paul as a dangerous predator while others see him as a bereft victim.

As the trail goes cold, broken-hearted Izzy finds a kindred soul in grief-stricken Paul. When they begin to spend time together, Clara takes it on herself to convince her neighbor that, maybe, Paul isn’t the man he appears to be — and he may be the key to solving Kristin’s disappearance, for better or worse.

Although the synopsis of “Not That I Could Tell” certainly resembles the type of popular woman-centered thrillers like Liane Moriarty’s “Big Little Lies” or Paula Hawkins’ “The Girl on the Train,” it is not a boilerplate thriller but rather a thoughtful drama that happens to revolve around a central mystery.

Ms. Strawser eschews the prerequisite twists and turns of the genre in favor of a slow-burn examination of the insidious nature of domestic violence: not just how it begins, but also particularly how it is allowed to continue — without regard to class or race and often right under the noses of friends and family.

As Kristin’s friends begin to uncover the tragic story of her life prior to her disappearance, they must reconcile the image of the woman they thought they knew with the dawning realization that she lived in a perpetual state of fear, only yards away from their own homes.

Without giving too much away, “Not That I Could Tell” focuses on themes as opposed to action. The plot is refreshingly free of red herrings and innuendos, which allows Ms. Strawser to develop her story without the contortions required for gasp-worthy and exhausting twists.

As thrillers with female leads propagate through best-seller lists, it is refreshing to read one where everything is, for the most part, exactly what it seems. Instead of setting up characters for a Big Reveal, the author makes the choice to let them grow organically. Even loose ends in the plot are allowed to hang unresolved, reinforcing the concept that in real life, stories don’t always resolve; instead, they evolve, and we handle those evolutions as best we can.

Ms. Strawser has written a deeply thoughtful book in “Not That I Could Tell,” and it will undoubtedly feel very personal to many readers, particularly those who have reckoned with violence in their own lives.

Ultimately, the novel is a nuanced portrayal of domestic violence: how it begins, how it continues, and its devastating after-effects. It’s also a very necessary look at how innumerable lives are changed by abuse — not just those of the victims but the people around them as well.

Wendy Wright is a freelance writer and editor living in Pittsburgh.

First Published: June 22, 2018, 4:00 p.m.