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“He must have taken some time off.”
Okay. That could very well be. We owned the ranch, after all, and Talon and Joe could come and go as they pleased. Both took their work very seriously, though, and were definitely hands-on. And neither had ever taken our mother away from the facility.
“Which brother?”
“Joe Steel, I believe. He should be on the visitors’ log.”
I hadn’t noticed either of my brothers’ names on the log when I’d signed in, but then I hadn’t been looking either.
Plus, today was Bryce’s first day at the new job. It was unlikely either Joe or Talon would leave the ranch.
Wasn’t it?
Something smelled rotten.
“I’m going to check the visitors’ log.” I walked as casually as I could muster back to the front and glanced over the log. Sure enough, Joe Steel was signed in.
The problem? Joe always used his given name, Jonah, when he wrote and signed his name.
Panic welled in me. Where was my mother? She lived in her own cloud of fantasy. She wasn’t safe outside this place unless she was with one of us. And clearly she wasn’t.
I frantically called Joe.
“Hey, Sis,” he said into the phone.
“Joe, I’m trying to visit Mom, and she’s gone.”
“What?” His voice was loud and panicked.
“Yeah. And the nurse says you signed her out earlier.”
“Fuck.”
“Your name’s in the log, but I knew it wasn’t you. Someone wrote Joe Steel, and you always write Jonah Steel.”
“Damn right it wasn’t me. Call the cops. I’m on my way.”
I quickly dialed 9-1-1 and explained the situation. Then I turned to the clerk at the front desk. “You people have a lot to answer for. You let my mother walk out of here with a stranger this morning.”
“Ma’am, I assure you—”
“My brother Joe is on his way here. He was not here this morning, and he did not sign our mother out. You let a stranger take our mother!”
My heart beat like galloping wildebeests. My mother—my mentally deficient, innocent mother. Where was she? And who had taken her? What could anyone want with—
Dollar signs clouded my head. Money. This had to be about money. If Talon or Joe had received a ransom demand, I’d know about it, and Joe would have mentioned it when we talked a minute ago.
“Listen,” I said. “You need to tell me everything you remember about the man who took my mother out of here. What did he look like?”
The clerk reddened, clearly flus
tered. “I don’t know. I don’t really look at everyone who comes in.”
“He had to have shown you ID. I show my ID every time I come here. Are you telling me you don’t bother looking at everyone’s ID?”
“I… I…”
“I want to see the surveillance videos.”
