This morning, Brennan ran another sweep of the house and also checked her vehicle before she and West took off. He found no trace of any type of tracker or surveillance device. As they were leaving, Brennan returned to his scrutiny of the house sketches, and Darius went off to interview the watch committee member who put together the welcome baskets.
“Baby-bug doing all right?” West asked, breaking into her somber meditations.
Cady glanced over her shoulder and managed a smile toward her daughter. “Since the car seat is buckled in with its back toward me, I can only make out her profile, but her little hands are busy playing with her mobile. She’s not fussing, so I assume she’s content for the moment.”
“That’s as good as it gets right now.” West chuckled. “I’ve been keeping watch on our six to make sure we’re not being followed.”
“Are we?” Cady’s heart rate picked up speed.
“Not that I can tell. I’m hopeful this little excursion will remain entirely under the radar.”
“You know I’m not happy about our trip.”
“I do, but the fact that you’re sitting beside me tells me you understand the necessity.”
“I still think we should call the care center and let them know we’re coming.”
“Negative. I’m not giving our enemy the slightest chance of finding out what we’re doing. It’s not like we need to verify your mother is going to be there when we arrive.”
“True enough.” Cady settled back in her seat.
“Why don’t you grab a nap before the little diva decides she’s hungry again.”
Cady needed no more urging to close her eyes. Aside from the weeks of night feedings interrupting her sleep, she’d felt stressed every waking moment since the attack in her bedroom. Trusting West’s capable hands on the wheel of her vehicle, and in a sense, on her life, Cady allowed exhaustion to claim her.
High-pitched squeals and fussing roused her. She looked at her watch to discover over an hour had passed. They were still on the freeway, but a cityscape was closing in around them.
“This is Phillipsburg?” she asked.
West nodded and jerked his head toward the back seat. “I think she snoozed a while along with you, but apparently her stomach has awakened her. I’ll stop at a convenience store gas station before we head to the Twin Oaks to see your mother. I can fill the tank while you feed Ms. Ravenous.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
A half hour later, they were nearing their destination. Next to the road, the dark waves of the Delaware River winked and blinked at them under the sunlight, flowing with them toward a place Cady was reluctant to return to. Her stomach clenched as they drove within sight of the three-storey brick structure that housed her mother and numerous other patients of diverse ages who were unable to live safely on their own.
“Very institutional,” West commented.
“Tell me about it.” Cady frowned and picked at an imaginary bit of lint on her shirt. “The last time I was here I thought the place felt like exactly that. The living conditions are sanitary and the staff seems competent, but it’s so very institutional with little privacy. The sheer volume of patients under state care makes single rooms out of the question. Most patients have at least one roommate, sometimes more.”
“Yikes! I can only imagine the upheaval if roommates aren’t compatible.”
“I don’t envy the staff.” Cady shook her head. “I wish I could afford to take over Mom’s care and have her placed in a private facility.”
“Considering her neglect of you and your sister, that’s a very kindly sentiment.”
“She’s my mother, no matter what. She gave me life. Besides, doesn’t the Bible command us to honor our parents? I don’t think it specifies that they have to be worthy.”
West chuckled. “Right on all counts. For someone going through a rocky period in her faith, you sure live it.”
Warmth spread through Cady’s insides. “I can’t remember the last time I so appreciated a compliment.”
She refrained from adding how much more special the words were because they came from him. Vocalizing that sentiment might give him the wrong idea about her affections—if it was the wrong idea. What, exactly, were her feelings for this man? Now was not the time to examine the question.
West parked the Blazer in the center’s spacious lot.
“You won’t be allowed to bring in your gun,” she told him.
He nodded and tucked his weapon into the glove compartment, and then they both got out. She thanked him as he retrieved Livvy in her detachable car seat from the rear of the vehicle. Squaring her shoulders, Cady faced the imposing building and trod up the sidewalk beside West and his precious burden.
The sterile scent of the place was as she remembered it, as was the chunky front desk in the outdated reception area. Refusing to further indulge her reluctance in West’s presence, she led the way to the desk.
The man doing paperwork behind it looked up at her approach. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” she said, “I’m here to see my mother, May Johnson.”
Something indefinable flickered behind the man’s eyes, and he frowned as he consulted his computer. “I’m sorry,” he said several heartbeats later. “Mrs. Johnson is unavailable.”
“Unavailable! Is she unwell? Has she gone to the doctor?”
“Yes... I mean, no,” the man stammered, turning pale. “Let me get the administrator.” He darted through a door labeled Administration.
Cady locked gazes with West. “What on earth is going on? When I called last week, the nurse said Mom was fine. ‘Status quo,’ she said. They are supposed to notify me of any significant change in her health.”
West shook his head. “I don’t want to alarm you, but if ever I’ve seen panic, that was it.”
Cady gulped against a dry throat. Her mother had not been anywhere near cognizant for a long, long time, ever since she started doing drugs, and Cady still struggled mightily with feelings of resentment and anger toward the woman. Yet, now, with all sorts of dark imaginings flying through her mind, how was it possible that Cady found herself ill prepared for any worsening in her mother’s condition? Judging by the receptionist’s reaction to their request to see her, whatever was going on was serious. Was she about to lose her mom in the most final way possible?
* * *
A heaviness settled in West’s core as Cady gnawed her lower lip, attention fixed on the door through which the receptionist had disappeared. His gaze scanned the area. Small sitting room to the right of the desk, furnished in shabby chic, and elevators to the right of that room, along with a doorway marked Stairs. The stairway door sported a heavy lock panel. A key card scanner hung on the wall next to it. A pair of workers in scrub uniforms entered an elevator. One of them waved her name badge over a spot on the wall inside the cab, presumably another key card scanner, and the elevator door slid shut. Security was moderately sophisticated here.
Or was it?
Next to the telephone at the abandoned front desk sat an employee key card. No second invitation needed. He snatched up the card, grabbed Cady’s arm and guided her toward the elevator.
“What—” she began a startled inquiry.
“Trust me,” he said, and she went silent.
His gut said not to wait until someone official stepped out to deal with them. Hopefully, it would turn out that his instinct was guiding him correctly.
At the press of a button, the elevator doors slid open, and he ushered Cady into the compartment. “What floor is your mother’s room?”
“Third.”
He pressed the button for floor three and waved his borrowed key card over the reader. The elevator doors glided shut and the car began to rise.
Cady’s gaze lifted to meet his. “Thank you. Every moment waiting there at that desk, I wanted to dart off
and do what we’re doing now. But I don’t know if I would have had the guts to break the rules without you leading the charge.”
West offered her a small grin. “Remember that little detail if they call the cops on us. It was all my fault.”
“Right!” She rolled her eyes. “And you dragged me into the elevator, kicking and screaming. I don’t think so.”
The elevator stopped and they stepped out onto threadbare beige carpet leading down a long, wide hallway. Doors at regular intervals to the left and right lined the hall. Some of the doors stood open and some were closed, but none of the residents appeared to be out and about. The hallway was interrupted in the middle by a circular area featuring a tall desk. The crown of someone’s bent head showed over the top of the desk.
“That’s the nurse’s station.” Cady pointed to the desk. “Let’s scoot to my mother’s room before the attendant notices us. It’s number 303.”
She darted forward to the second door on the left. West followed in her wake. Cady paused at the closed door with her hand on the knob and gasped.
“Look!” She pointed at two parallel nameplates affixed to the wall beside the door. Both names were filled in, but neither of them was May Johnson.
Cady’s face went fire-engine red. “Come on.”
She waved him after her as she charged toward the nurse’s station. The corners of West’s lips tilted upward. So much for being nervous about breaking the rules. Whoever was on duty at the desk had better watch out.
“Where is my mother?” Cady practically skidded to a halt at the station.
The attendant’s head jerked up. “Who?”
“May Johnson. Where is she? Her room was 303. Has she been moved?”
The young woman’s gaze flicked from Cady to West and back again. Finally, she rose. “Where are your visitor’s badges?”
“Focus!” Cady snapped. “You’re responsible for my mother’s whereabouts and well-being. Where is she?”
Olivia began to fuss and wiggle in her car seat. West shushed and bounced her. It spoke volumes about Cady’s degree of upset that she paid no attention to her daughter’s cries.
The attendant blinked toward the baby, then took a step backward. “Who did you say you were looking for?”
“May Johnson. She’s been a resident here for a decade.”
The woman spread her hands in front of her. “I’ve only been working here for a month, but I assure you, I have no knowledge of a patient by that name, either on this floor or anywhere in the building. Are you positive you’re looking for her in the right facility? There are other care centers in Phillipsburg.”
“I know where my mother has been staying. I—”
“There you are,” a breathless female voice interrupted.
West looked around to find a stocky, brunette woman hustling up the hallway toward them. Something about her carriage telegraphed authority. The administrator? He pressed his lips into a thin line. Time to face the music, but if this woman couldn’t produce Cady’s mother, pronto, it might be the administrator who danced to the tune.
He took a step toward her, blocking her access to Cady. “According to the nameplates, May Johnson’s bed has been given to another. According to the staff member at this desk, May Johnson is no longer in this facility. If she’s been moved to another one, Cady should have been notified. In fact, if May was moved to another facility prior to this employee coming to work here, whoever Cady has been talking to these past few weeks in order to receive updates on her mother’s condition has been lying to her. Where is May Johnson?” West pronounced each word of the final query like a gavel coming down on a bench.
All authority wilted from the woman before him, whose name tag did indeed indicate that she was the administrator. She staggered sideways until she met the wall, as if she required its support to remain upright. The woman pressed the heels of both hands over her eyes.
Cady inserted herself between West and the administrator and brought her face to within inches of the other woman’s. “Where is my mother?”
The dark intensity of Cady’s tone drew a cringe from the administrator, but she let her hands fall to her sides, gaze bleak.
“We don’t know.” The answer came out in a taut whisper.
Cady let out a small shriek and tottered backward against West. He wrapped one arm around her, gently deposited the infant seat on the carpet and yanked out his cell phone.
“This is getting reported to the police.” He tapped in the three digits for emergency services, as he glared at the administrator. “You can explain to them why the disappearance of one of your patients hasn’t been reported.”
EIGHT
Seated on a settee in the first-floor reception area, Cady gazed dully at the drama unfolding before her. What did it matter that the administrator and several other staff members were being arrested and handcuffed before her very eyes? Her mother was missing—had been since the day after Livvy was born—and no one seemed to have a clue where May Johnson was or how to find her. The cops had spoken to her and West and were still all over the place, interviewing staff and even a few patients, but no one was giving her any answers.
Livvy mewled and stirred in Cady’s arms, drawing her attention. Her daughter’s sweet, innocent face spread balm through her heart. A short time ago, Cady had finished feeding the baby in a private office borrowed for the purpose, and now the infant’s tiny, rosebud mouth continued to make suckling motions as she drifted off to sleep.
What a fool Cady had been! As soon as she was up to the trip following Olivia’s birth, she should have brought the baby here and introduced May to her granddaughter. Whether or not May would have understood the child’s identity, or even cared, was beside the point. At least then Cady would have discovered much sooner that her mother was missing. Worse, maybe her mother wouldn’t have gone missing at all had Cady been more faithful about visiting these past years. How more frequent visits might have made a difference Cady wasn’t sure, but the question didn’t make a dent in the iron armor of her guilt. May Johnson had neglected her daughters, and the surviving daughter had reciprocated with neglect. Why hadn’t Cady seen that truth sooner? All the excuses she had made to herself about why she didn’t visit rang hollow in her heart.
“You can stop beating yourself up now.” West’s sturdy figure settled onto the cushion beside her.
“Is it that obvious?” She shot him a bleak glance.
“It would only be more obvious if you hung a sign around your neck that said in big black letters, I’M A TERRIBLE DAUGHTER.”
“I am.”
“Not true, but it’s a normal reaction.”
Cady spurted a bitter chuckle. “That’s the first time the word normal has been used regarding anything to do with our family dynamics.”
“Hang in there.” He squeezed her hand.
Cady squeezed back like a drowning woman clutching a life preserver. He didn’t even wince, just steadily held both her hand and her gaze.
“Let me update you,” he said. “I just finished talking with the lead investigator on scene, and he was refreshingly forthcoming.”
“Go ahead.” She released his hand.
“Apparently, this facility has a negligence lawsuit pending in regard to another patient.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“When your mother first went missing, the administrator and several staff members were confident that they would quickly find her wandering around somewhere, and they could get her back with no one the wiser. Losing track of a patient with the results of the negligence trial in the balance would have been disastrous for the facility’s case. However, when over twenty-four hours had passed without May being found, the cover-up became more complicated. Staff members who would have noticed May’s absence were let go and replaced, and, as we discovered, her bed was filled with someone else. As long as
you stayed away, they were golden until the trial was over, and then they could call you with a fictitious tale of May’s sudden death and immediate cremation.”
“I would have been furious not to have been notified of her death prior to cremation.”
“Yes, but as you said, she’s a ward of the state. Would you have wanted to come here to view her dead body?”
Cady shuddered. “For closure, maybe. But maybe not.”
“There you go. Your fury would probably have been short-lived, and the Twin Oaks Care Center would have come out smelling like a rose.”
Cady frowned. “Only until my mother was found somewhere. She can’t simply have evaporated into thin air.”
“Of course not, but—”
“But what?”
West’s gaze darkened and he broke eye contact.
“Westley Foster, don’t you dare pull punches on me now. What aren’t you telling me?”
West sighed and returned his gaze to hers. “You’re right. The administrator believes your mother fell into the Delaware River and is halfway to the Atlantic by now.”
Cady moaned, and Olivia let out a squawk. Cady loosened her tense hold on the baby, who settled back into sleep. “That doesn’t mean her remains won’t be found.”
“No, it doesn’t, but if she did drown—and I’m not sure that happened—any remains found now would be difficult, if not impossible, to identify. Her DNA is not on file, only her fingerprints, which would be unlikely to survive that long in the water. I know because I asked the cops.”
“And since no one would think to connect the unidentified body with me,” Cady said, “they wouldn’t have any reason to ask for my DNA to see if they could get a familial match.”
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