The New Husband(22)
“While I thought it was odd that Glen would have even gone to Carson, it was even odder that nobody from the bank bothered to contact me. I mean, he was all over the news, but I didn’t receive one phone call, no emails even.”
“Why do you think?”
“I didn’t know,” said Nina. “So when I got home from the search I called his office.”
“And?”
And …
Nina relived those moments in detail, letting them unfold for Dr. Wilcox as they had unfolded for her.
* * *
SHE DIALED the main number and asked for Human Resources. A pleasant-sounding man with a nasal voice answered the phone after a few rings.
“Dan Kastner. May I help you?”
Nina had to take a deep breath before she could speak. “Yes, hello. My name is Nina Garrity.”
She expected to hear a gasp, a heavy sigh, some weighty noise that preceded expressions of sincere sympathy, but no. There was only silence.
“Yes? What can I do for you, Ms. Garrity?”
“Um—” Nina cleared her throat. “I’m Glen Garrity’s wife, Nina.”
“Glen … Garrity?”
“Yes,” said Nina. “He’s the boater from Seabury, New Hampshire, who’s gone missing. Surely you’ve seen the news…?”
“Oh yes, yes, of course. Of course, I have. I’m truly sorry, Ms. Garrity. What is it I can do for you?”
Do for me? Dan’s response had baffled Nina. He’s your employee, she thought. Where have you been? Why hasn’t anyone called? It was more than a strange choice of words—Nina struggled to come up with something Dan could actually do for her. By this point, after days without recovering a body, she, along with the police, had all assumed that Glen was dead.
“Well—um, I’m curious about health insurance, first,” Nina said, stammering a bit. “Our daughter Maggie has nut allergies and, well, if she needs to go to the hospital, you know, how long will we still have insurance?”
Nina figured she’d eventually work her way up to asking why nobody from Center Street Bank had been in touch, feeling idiotic for fumbling her way through the conversation.
“This is for Glen Garrity, right?”
“Yes,” said Nina, now annoyed.
“Hmmm—Mrs. Garrity, could you give me a moment, please?”
Nina pinned the phone between her shoulder and ear, breathing deeply. The hold music sounded like a Bon Jovi tune re-created on the marimba. Why did he put her on hold? Was there a problem with the insurance? Eventually, she heard the line click over.
“Mrs. Garrity?”
To Nina’s surprise, it was a woman’s voice, not Dan’s.
“Yes,” said Nina.
“Hello, I’m Jill Fleishman, the vice president of Human Resources for Center Street Bank. Dan told me you called asking about benefits in connection with your husband, Glen.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Nina felt short of breath. Her skin had gone tingly as a terrible feeling sank into her chest.
“Um—Mrs. Garrity, I’m not sure how to say this. I know you’re dealing with a tremendous shock.”
“Please, just talk to me,” she said. “Is Glen in trouble at work? I’m trying to figure out why he’s been spending time in Carson—that’s where he’s been going. I’m assuming he was doing a job for you there?”
“Mrs. Garrity, I don’t know about Carson, but what I can tell you is that your husband hasn’t worked here for the past two years.”
Nina was sure she’d misheard. “Excuse me? Could you repeat that, please?”
“We terminated Glen’s employment two years ago,” Jill Fleishman said.
“Terminated?” Nina’s head was buzzing.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Nina hoped she hadn’t shouted the question.
“I’m afraid that’s privileged information.”
“I’m his wife. He’s missing.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry, but our confidentiality policy extends to all current and former employees of the bank.”
Nina knew this was an argument she wasn’t going to win, so she changed subjects. “You said this happened two years ago?”
“Yes.”
“But that’s impossible. He—he went—”
Nina stopped herself. She was going to say he went to work every day. But actually, he just went out the door. He got into his car. He drove away. He could have been in Chelmsford, or Carson, or Cleveland for all she knew. He could have gone anywhere.
“I can send you some paperwork—but I would—I would need a death certificate to release it.”
Nina’s throat closed up, but somehow, she managed to get out the words: “Thank you for your time.”
* * *
IF DR. WILCOX found Nina’s story shocking, it did not register on her face.
“That’s another profound betrayal,” she said.
“I nearly fainted,” Nina replied. “Anyway, the first thing I did was go to the file cabinet where we kept all our financial documents. I’d seen our tax returns, but I’d never studied them. I just signed the page Glen gave me to sign; I never asked to see the numbers or look at the deductions, because I simply didn’t see the need. I trusted him.”