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I was perfectly aware that I might be on a fool’s errand. Barbara and her children might be back in Manhattan by now. But I didn’t think that would be the case. I believed that she was hiding out up here to avoid being questioned about Mack, in which case she’d have stayed put.
I was sure that if I called first she would put me off. But if I simply showed up, there was almost no civil way she could close the door in my face, since she had once been a guest for di
At least I hoped not.
Checking my watch, I realized I needed to get moving if I wanted to catch Barbara at home. In the car, I set the navigation system. The street where Richard Hanover lived was about six miles away. My plan was to drive to the house and ring the bell. If no one was there, I’d go into the center of town and walk around for a while, then make periodic trips back to the house until she was in.
It seemed like a good plan, but of course the day’s events didn’t unfold that way. I reached the house at about 12:30. There was no one there. I came back every hour until 5:30. By then, I had decided it was a totally wasted trip, and was as thoroughly disheartened as any human being could possibly be. Then, just as I was making a U-turn, a Jeep with New York plates passed me and turned into the driveway. I caught a glimpse of a woman at the wheel, with a man beside her and some kids in the back.
I drove around for ten minutes or so, then went back to the house and rang the bell. A man in his early seventies answered the door. He obviously had no idea who I was but his smile was cordial. I introduced myself, and said that Bruce had told me his family was visiting. “Come in,” he said. “You must be a friend of Barbara’s.”
“Mr. Hanover,” I said, stepping across the threshold, “I’m Mack MacKenzie’s sister. I need to talk to her about him.”
His expression changed. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” he said.
“It’s not a matter of its being a good idea,” I said. “I’m afraid it’s necessary.” Not giving him a chance to reply, I walked past him into the living room.
The house was one of those early Cape Cods that had been expanded over the years. The living room wasn’t large, but it was charming, with Early American furniture and a hooked rug. Overhead, I could hear the sound of ru
Richard Hanover had disappeared, presumably to tell his daughter I was here. While I waited, three little girls came pounding down the stairs, followed by a girl of about eleven. The little ones rushed over to me. Two of them were obviously twins. The girls crowded around me, pleased to be greeting a guest.
“What’s your name?” I pointed to one of the twins.
“Samantha Jean Galbraith,” she said proudly. “Everybody calls me Sammy, and we took the ferry to Cape Cod today.”
They’d been on an all-day excursion to the Cape, I thought. I pointed to the other twin. “What’s your name?”
“Margaret Hanover Galbraith. I’m named after my grandmother who is in heaven, and everybody calls me Maggie.” Both girls have their mother’s blond hair, I thought to myself.
“And is this your cousin or your friend?” I asked, indicating the other little girl.
“This is Ava Grace Gregory, our very best friend,” Samantha explained. Ava Grace took a step closer to me and beamed. Samantha turned and tugged at the older girl’s hand. “And this is Victoria Somers. She visits us here and sometimes we visit her at her ranch in Colorado.”
“I go with them sometimes,” Ava Grace told me earnestly. “And my daddy took all of us to the White House.”
“I’ve never been there myself,” I told her. “That’s wonderful.” I love kids, I thought to myself. Someday I’m going to have at least four of my own, I hope.
“Okay, you guys. Go upstairs and get cleaned up before it’s time to go out for di
I had met her once at di
With a chorus of good-byes, the girls were on their way upstairs. Barbara said, “I’d rather talk in the den.”
I followed her down the narrow hall. There was a large country kitchen at the end that spilled into a family room. The den was to the left before the kitchen. If I were to guess, I would say that this was where Richard Hanover spent his evenings when he was alone. It had cheery wallpaper, a patterned carpet, a medium-sized desk and chair, and a recliner that faced a wall-mounted television. There was a reading lamp to the left behind the recliner, and a basket of books and magazines within easy reach.
I could visualize my father in that room.
Barbara closed the door and sat behind the desk, leaving me only the reclining chair, which seemed too big and too deep for me. I knew she was Mack’s age, thirty-one, but she was one of those women whose early beauty doesn’t last. Her face, which I remembered as being flawless, was too thin now, her lips too narrow. The cascade of blond hair that I had once both admired and envied was now drawn tight in a chignon. But she was still compelling in a slender, autocratic way. I imagined that her commanding presence must be a comfort to the parents of her pediatric patients.
“Why did you come here, Carolyn?” she demanded.
I looked at her, trying to reflect the same hostility that was emanating from her. “Barbara,” I said, “from what I understand you and Mack were dating ten years ago when he disappeared. Frankly, I’ve been told that you were pretty crazy about him. If, as the police believe, and as you surely have read in the newspapers, Mack is committing crimes, there can only be one reason for it, and that is that he’s had a complete mental breakdown. I need to know if you saw any sign of it.”
She said nothing.
I stared back at her. “I’m telling you right now that when I met your husband at his office, he showed such hostility about Mack that I was floored. What did Mack ever do to Bruce, and did it have anything to do with his disappearance? What reason do you have for rushing up here to avoid questioning? If you think you can hide out up here, you’re wrong. The media is camped outside our home on Sutton Place. Every time I go in or out, they try to shove a microphone in my face. Unless I can get some honest answers from you, and I am satisfied that you know nothing about the reason for Mack’s disappearance, then the next time I’m hounded by the media I’m going to tell them you and your husband are holding back information that may be helpful in finding Leesey Andrews.”
I watched as the color drained from her face. “You wouldn’t dare to do that!”
“Oh, yes, I would,” I assured her. “I will do anything to find Mack and stop him, if he is committing these crimes, or clear his name if he is i
“I don’t know where he is, but I do know why he walked away.” Barbara Galbraith’s chin began to tremble. “If I tell you, will you swear to leave us alone? Bruce had nothing to do with his disappearance. Bruce loved me and saved my life. It’s because of what Mack did to me that he hates him.”
“What did he do to you?” I could almost not form the words. I had been wrong. I hadn’t been seeing only hatred from Dr. Barbara Hanover Galbraith. I had been witnessing pain that she had been trying not to unleash.