Читать книгу The Cradle Conspiracy - Robin Perini - Страница 9
ОглавлениеChapter Two
The dust from the mine filtered the beam from the flashlight, but it was more than enough to let Daniel know they were screwed. Sweat that had nothing to do with exertion slid down his back. He was fighting off a PTSD meltdown and now this. How could he comfort her when he felt borderline psychotic?
He had to get outside. Fast.
“What’s my name?” the woman repeated, her voice shaking.
Daniel’s grip tightened on the rock he held. He hated the fear and bewilderment in her words, and he’d be damned if he let her see his alarm for both of them.
The blood on her temple oozed again, droplets landing on her dusty silk shirt. Someone had wanted her dead. That person might still succeed if Daniel didn’t dig them out quickly. He had no answers for this terrified woman, and couldn’t give her much in the way of comfort except to wrap her in his arms and hope she mistook his trembling as her own.
Daniel stroked her dark hair. “You’re going to be okay,” he reassured, knowing his words may not be true. “Once that bump goes down, you’ll remember everything.”
“What if I don’t?” She shivered.
He pressed her closer. “You will. It’s common with head injuries to be a little fuzzy.”
She shook her head, then winced, pressing her hand to her temple. “This isn’t fuzzy. I. Can’t. Remember. My. Name.” She paused, her eyes widening, then she whispered, “I can’t remember...anything.”
Swearing internally, Daniel gently stroked her black hair and forced what he hoped was a confident smile to his face. “Maybe we should call you Trouble. You deserve the moniker more than the mutt over there.”
At the sound of his name, Trouble’s head cocked.
“Or we could go the princess route. Sleeping Beauty might be appropriate.” Daniel kept his tone light, trying to divert her focus...and his. “Except she had blond hair. You could be Snow White. Her hair was black.”
A small smile tilted the corners of the woman’s mouth. “You’re an idiot, but thanks.” She bit her lip. “Seriously I can’t just pick a name out of thin air.”
“Then I’ll do it for you.” He studied her amazing brown eyes and once more touched the long, silky strands of hair. Black as night. Or like a raven’s wing... “How about I call you Raven for now? After your hair color. Just until you remember.”
“Raven, huh?” she said, her voice small and vulnerable.
“Raven suits you,” Daniel admitted. “It’s striking and unforgettable. Like you.” He pulled back his hand. “Now I have to get back to work.”
Methodically he picked up one rock after another, telling himself he’d break through soon. But he could feel the churning in his mind and gut. He took a cleansing breath, praying for control.
His hands grew slippery with sweat. He would not give in to the panic.
The shrinks had diagnosed him with post-traumatic stress disorder soon after his rescue from Bellevaux.
Like Daniel hadn’t recognized the symptoms already.
His combat-vet father had suffered from PTSD nightmares and flashbacks as long as Daniel could remember—until his dad had ended it with a bullet to his brain. Daniel had found him, and the sight haunted him still.
At the memory Daniel’s heart raced, pounding against his ribs as if it would burst through any second. He closed his eyes to stall another attack.
A furry nose nuzzled its way beneath his hand. What the hell? Now the dog decided to make friends? Daniel’s fingers curled through Trouble’s coat. If Trouble could work through his issues, Daniel wasn’t about to succumb to his. He had no time to wallow in imaginary fears. Even if they felt completely real.
“We’ll be fine,” he announced, perhaps as much to hear the words aloud as to calm Raven. But he’d noticed it getting harder to breathe with all the dust. He came upon a few large stones, and he lugged them away, one at a time.
Each time he rose to his feet, steadying himself on the leg his captors had broken in three places, it became harder. If his leg gave out, they’d be in a world of hurt. He dragged a wooden beam toward the back and bumped into something. He turned, noticing a big painted box with a large letter C carved into the top. One corner of the lid was bloody, with a few pieces of black hair stuck to the surface. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to recognize the match to Raven’s head wound. Besides, kids’ toy boxes didn’t wind up in deserted mines by accident.
Using the edge of his shirt, Daniel opened the lid. Empty. “Raven? Do you recognize this box?”
Before she could respond, Trouble snapped to attention. He whined and let out a loud bark, pacing back and forth in the confined space. Another rumble sounded from somewhere inside the mountain.
“We’re out of time. I think if I pull out a few more rocks, you can get through.”
She tried to walk, but her legs buckled beneath her.
He grabbed her, and she held her body stiff. “Forget me. Dig.” She pushed on his chest. “Go!”
Another rumble resonated through the earth surrounding them. The mine was collapsing. They had to get out.
Daniel yanked a rock out, then another, speed counting more than finesse now. Within minutes a small hole had appeared.
He shone the light through the opening. The entire cavern beyond was intact. For now.
Raven’s small hand clutched his arm as she crawled up beside him. “I can help.”
“Raven...”
With two hands she grabbed a rock and tossed it into the pile he’d started. “Shut up and dig.”
“Stubborn woman,” he grumbled, but he admired her grit.
They worked side by side, and before long, they’d created an opening large enough for her and Trouble to escape. He peered through the hole. “Can you slide through?”
She studied the gap. “I think so. What about you?”
“I’ll be fine. Trouble,” Daniel ordered, “go on.”
The dog looked at Daniel; then the stupid mutt seemed to roll his eyes. He lifted his paws to the hole and climbed through.
Daniel grasped her waist. “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Your shoulders won’t fit through that opening.”
“I’ll move a few more rocks, then follow you.”
She hesitated. “Promise?”
“Believe me, honey, I want out of here worse than you do.”
Finally she nodded and reached her arms into the hole. Trouble whined from the other side. Her body slithered through. The rocks groaned in protest and shuddered around her.
Raven stilled.
Dust and gravel landed on her back.
“Don’t stop! Move!” Daniel batted a falling rock away.
Daniel shoved her hips forward, and she tumbled to the ground with a moan, clutching her head. Trouble nudged her cheek, giving her a quick lick.
“Hey! Are you all right?” Daniel asked, as loud as he dared given the avalanche just waiting to happen.
“Yes.”
She rose unsteadily and faced him, too wobbly for his liking. He peered at her through the frame of rocks. “Get outside. Stay at least twenty feet from the mine’s entrance.”
The obstinate woman just shook her head and came toward him. “I won’t leave you. I can dig from this side.”
Another warning grumbled around them.
“Look, lady. This place is coming down soon. A few more rocks, and I’m running like hell out of here. I don’t need to be concerned about you, too.”
She hesitated.
Daniel tossed a stone aside. “Don’t worry. It takes more than a cave-in to do me in. This little challenge doesn’t even break my top five. Now get the hell outside.”
With one last look, she stumbled around the bend toward the mine opening.
“Go,” Daniel said to Trouble. “Guard her.”
A soft whine escaped the dog, but he followed her.
Daniel widened the hole, his adrenaline ratcheting higher with every second. The stubborn woman didn’t weigh more than a hundred twenty pounds, and she’d nearly brought the unstable wall down on them. At over two hundred, he might get one shot to reach the other side, but these stones were like the last blocks in Jenga. Very precarious...and dangerous.
If he was going to die, he wanted it to be out in the open, under the sky, not like a rat trapped in a hole. At least the fight to stay alive was beating back the past—just barely.
He tried to squeeze through, but his hulking six-foot-four frame scraped the edges of the passageway. Damn football shoulders.
Two more rocks should do it.
He moved one, and a spray of dirt sifted over him.
One more to go.
Daniel took a deep breath then tugged out the rock and heard the cracking start.
He shoved through the hole, ignoring the rocks hitting his body. He dragged his bad leg through just as the roar grew louder.
Then the whole damn mountain started coming down on top of him.
* * *
“DANIEL!” THE GROUND around Raven shook, tossing her to her knees as debris scattered over her.
She’d made it to within three feet of leaving the tunnel, and despite several attempts, she couldn’t stagger to her feet. Her aching head spun in the dimming light from outside.
Oh, God, she couldn’t leave Daniel alone. He’d rescued her. She had to get up and help him somehow.
Suddenly he burst around the corner, plowed into her and knocked her flat.
“You’re supposed to be outside!” He scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and hauled her outside through a cloud of dust.
Daniel stumbled, and they went down hard, just a few feet outside the cave’s opening. Dirt and dust spewed from the mine, raining down on them, but Raven didn’t care. They’d made it.
Trouble bounded next to them, barking until Daniel finally rolled onto his back, his face screwed up in agony. He sucked in several gulps of air, then glared at Raven. “What were you thinking? I told you to get out.”
“I wanted to help—”
“Are you always this obstinate?” he growled, shifting his leg, his jaw tightening.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I really don’t.” The blankness in her mind scared her, terrified her. She rubbed her temple. Why did everything seem like a foggy void, one she couldn’t see past?
His lips thinned into a grimace, then he sighed. “It’s a miracle we made it out in one piece.” He scanned up and down her body. “You look like hell. I don’t suppose I look much better.”
She gazed at his dirt-covered figure. He looked great, actually. His dusty clothes didn’t take away from the fact that he appeared every inch the hero. From the stubble on his chin to the mussed light brown hair kissed with sunlight, to the V-shaped body, there wasn’t anything to complain about. When he walked over and grabbed a brown Stetson from the ground, dusted it off and settled it on his head, the look was complete.
She didn’t know what kind of guy had attracted her before, but this one was doing it for her now. She struggled to a seated position. Actually she was seeing two of him now, which couldn’t be a good sign.
“Let me help you up.” Daniel held out his hand to her. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, my canteen is behind a wall of rock, and you need a doctor. We have to get moving.”
She placed her small hand in his and stood beside him. “I can make it.”
He glanced over at her. “I have no doubt of that, honey. We just have to walk to my phone and call the sheriff who patrols these parts. I’d like to try to get you into the shade.”
She took a step and swayed into him, then bent over, resting her hands on her knees. Her stomach roiled, and she swallowed down the nausea.
He snuck his arm around her waist. “We’ll go slow,” he said softly. “It’s been a tough day.”
She leaned against him but tried to mostly stand on her own two feet. Daniel hadn’t said anything, but the hitch in his step told her that he’d been injured. Maybe it was because he’d come to her rescue, but the closer she looked at the scar on his face, she could tell his skin was still healing from recent wounds. He looked like he’d had a rough year, not just a rough day. War veteran, maybe?
The bright sun in the clear blue sky blinded her after the dark mine, so she stared at her feet and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. That’s all she had to do.
One step.
The world spun a little.
Another step...gray clouded her vision. The darkness enveloped her, blocking out the sun.
From far, far away she heard a loud curse and watched the ground tilt toward her.
Then all went silent.
* * *
THE BLAZING SUN hung low in the sky. Daniel’s leg protested with every step, his body apparently not thrilled with carrying Raven’s extra weight, no matter how slight. Shards of pain dug through the spots where the plate and screws held his bones together. All he could do was keep walking.
He’d tried dialing 9-1-1 for help, but signals in the middle of nowhere were hard to come by. Once he thought someone answered, but he never could connect. Hell, he couldn’t even reach Information to get the local sheriff’s department number.
Trouble had taken up his customary position out of reach, though instead of ten feet away, the mutt had moved closer. More like six feet, eyeing the woman in Daniel’s arms the whole time.
“If you were a horse this would be a lot easier,” Daniel groused to his traveling companion.
The dog just quirked his ear and kept walking.
With a quick shift of his arms, Daniel adjusted his burden. Raven had scared him when she’d keeled over. She hadn’t responded when he’d attempted to revive her. Head injuries were nothing to mess with, and for a moment, he’d feared the worst.
When her chest had risen and fallen, his heart had restarted. At least she was breathing, even if her face had taken on the color of buttermilk.
He’d debated whether to turn back to Trouble, Texas, or go forward to Nickel Creek, just south of the Texas–New Mexico border. But he knew Trouble had a medical clinic, so for the first time since leaving Langley, Daniel retraced his steps. He still had a good ten miles to go. Even one more seemed impossible right now.
His foot snagged a rock, and he stumbled forward. Daniel’s arms held Raven snug against his body, but a sharp pang pierced his knee. Something had stabbed or bitten him. He hadn’t heard a rattler. He backed up and righted himself, a long, slow breath escaping him at the sight of the devilishly sharp plant at his feet. The lechuguilla resembled the base of a yucca, but its three-inch-long black spikes at the ends of the flat leaves could spear through leather or skin with ease. Thank God, he’d been moving slow. Those suckers could do some real damage.
He was lucky he hadn’t dropped Raven.
The jostling hadn’t caused a gasp or the slightest movement from her, and he didn’t like it. She’d been out too long. He glanced behind him. As dusk approached, the merciless sunlight dimmed somewhat. Even when he’d been in top shape, it would’ve taken him until full dark to reach Trouble. His leg wouldn’t hold out much longer.
A siren sliced the silence. Daniel tamped down the irrational urge to run in the opposite direction. He had to remind himself he wasn’t in a country where the national police could stuff you into a dungeon, and people forgot about you like you were never born.
He waited as the sheriff’s vehicle pulled a few feet from him.
A cop stepped out and rounded the car. Not your average small-town sheriff. This guy walked with precision and a determined quiet. He had the look of some of CTC’s operatives, and his narrowed expression took in the three of them. “You the one who tried calling 9-1-1? We caught the tower location, and this is one of the only paved roads around. You need some help? Your lady’s not looking too good.”
“She needs a hospital,” Daniel said, shifting her in his arms so the sheriff could see her head wound. “And I need to talk to you.”
The man took one look at the blood on her head and ran to his car. He opened the back door and helped Daniel slide inside the idling vehicle with Raven still cradled against him. The dog hesitated by the side door.
“Come on, boy.” Daniel tapped the backseat.
The dog hunkered back, then scampered into the desert.
“Trouble!” Daniel called.
The mutt didn’t stop, just disappeared behind a shrub bush.
Daniel sighed and gazed at Raven. The cop shut the door on them. “You want me to go after him?”
With a pang, Daniel scanned the empty landscape. Yeah, Daniel wanted the sheriff to go after the dog. Trouble had no water, no food, and it would be dark soon, but Raven was still unconscious. “She needs an emergency room. The dog lands on his feet.” At least Daniel prayed Trouble would.
“He yours? Will he go home?”
“I’m not sure either of us currently has a home,” Daniel said. “We met on the road.”
“I see.” The cop pulled onto the road and studied Daniel through the rearview mirror. “You wouldn’t be that drifter Milly mentioned who came through town yesterday?”
Daniel stiffened. He didn’t like the fact that someone had noticed him. He prided himself on being invisible to most, but the waitress had been way too friendly in that small-town-nosy kind of way.
“She didn’t mention you had a traveling companion. You gonna tell me what happened, and why you’re carrying an unconscious woman down a county road? Or did you find her along the way, too?”
At the suspicious tone in the sheriff’s voice, the hairs on the back of Daniel’s neck straightened. He didn’t need any more problems, so he told the man what he knew.
The sheriff cursed. “Those mines have been abandoned for years. I occasionally find some kids out there playing stupid games of truth or dare. One kid died because he couldn’t find his way out. The state should seal them up.”
“You need to get the carpet and the toy box out of there first. Maybe you’ll find some fingerprints.”
The sheriff plucked his radio speaker. “I don’t have a lot of help, but I can call in some assistance from Midland. If it’s not too dangerous to enter the mine, they’ll retrieve the evidence.” He waited a beat. “You say this woman doesn’t know her name? Do you believe her?”
Daniel met the sheriff’s gaze. He understood what the man was asking. “Wrapped in carpet held together with duct tape? She didn’t do that to herself. Yeah, I believe her.”
The sheriff zipped across the desert and soon reached the Trouble, Texas, Medical Clinic. Daniel carried Raven inside.
A grizzled doctor took one look at her wounds, grabbed a gurney, then wheeled her into a closed area. Daniel followed.
“You with her?” the nurse asked, obviously ready to evict him.
Daniel nodded. He wasn’t about to let Raven out of his sight. Not while she was so vulnerable.
The doctor immobilized her neck first, then bent down. “Can you hear me, miss?” he asked loudly.
She didn’t respond at first, until a child in a different examining room cried.
Raven’s eyes blinked open, and she stared up at the doctor in panic.
“Where am I? Where’s my baby?”
* * *
PAMELA WINTER EASED the rocking chair back and forth, back and forth, her aging muscles aching as she held the child closer.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. “Mommy’s going to take care of you.”
The baby cooed in her sleep, pursing those sweet little lips as if she were nursing. Pamela wished she could do it, but it was impossible at her age.
“You’ll be fine, my precious girl.”
Pamela let her wrinkled hand stroke down the soft cheeks of the healthy eighteen-month-old baby. So healthy when...
No. Pamela wouldn’t think that way. Everything would be fine. She’d done what she had to do.
The television filtered through the room. Another game show, one she’d watched nightly for twenty-five years. The recliner near the fireplace mocked her with its emptiness.
This wasn’t the home it was supposed to be. She wasn’t supposed to be alone. She was supposed to be here with her husband, with their new daughter. A perfect, happy family. A second chance. A do-over after the horrific way their first attempt at parenthood had turned out. She’d believed her husband had changed. He’d certainly been quieter toward the end. He hadn’t used his fists or his threats as much after Christopher left.
Until earlier that day before her husband died.
Pamela hummed a lullaby and touched the rosy cheek of the beautiful baby in her arms. A perfect daughter. Unlike Christopher, the child from hell. A child with no conscience who, even when he grew up, never felt the need for one.
Thank God his father had finally found an alternative. After yet another stupid stunt, he’d told Christopher to choose the army or jail. Christopher had picked the army, so now he was trained to kill, with no conscience to stop him. Pamela shivered, even though the temperature hadn’t turned cold. Every day she prayed she’d get a telegram, or a knock at the door, along with a military chaplain saying her son was dead, and the world was a safer place for it.
What a blessing that would be.
A key sounded in the lock. She tensed. Her husband was dead. Her son was gone.
No one should have a key.
“I’m home.”
Oh, my God. Christopher.
Pamela vaulted out of her chair, clutching the infant in her arms. What was he doing here? Her son wasn’t due for leave from deployment for another six months.
She couldn’t deal with his horrible temper, his manic and depressive rages. Not now. What was she going to do? He’d kill her if he found out the truth about what she’d done. She settled the baby in the nearby cradle and rose from the rocker.
He could never find out.
Heavy steps clunked across the hardwood floor. She bit her lip.
The tall, strapping man, as handsome and dangerous as his father, strode across the room, the once long, shaggy hair now cut military short. He dropped his duffel in the marble-covered foyer.
“No hug for your baby boy?”
He gave her a smile. A smile she hadn’t seen since he’d become a teenager.
She allowed herself a smidgen of hope. Was the good Christopher back? She embraced him carefully like one would a cobra. He could be that lethal.
Her son stared at her. “Is the baby sleeping?”
She nodded, her throat closed off in fear. Would he be able to tell?
With a grin, he crossed to the cradle and stared at the infant. “She’s even more beautiful than her pictures. Chubby, rosy cheeks. You’ve been plumping her up. I’m glad. She was so pale in the last set of photos.” He kissed the top of the baby’s head. “I’m home now, kiddo. Anyone messes with you, and they’re dead.”
Pamela turned so he wouldn’t see the tears trailing down her cheeks, tears that were an all-too-common occurrence these days. Her arms felt empty again. She picked up the baby and then faced her son. Forcing a false smile into place, she reached a trembling hand to Christopher. “I’m glad you’re home,” she lied. “Safe with us. Safe and sound.”
“I opted out early. I’m back for good.”
She tried to swallow down the terror that clutched at her heart. This wouldn’t work. She couldn’t keep the truth from him forever. Someone would tell him, or he would guess.
Why was this happening?
Pamela hadn’t thought he could leave the service before his five-year enlistment was up. Nothing had worked out like she’d planned.
Everything was so hard now. So wrong.
The baby squirmed in Pamela’s arms and opened her striking green eyes.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, scooping up the baby from his mother’s arms.
He walked across the room, past the darkened hearth, then sat in his father’s chair, an obvious act of defiance to the man he’d hated.
Christopher examined the infant in his arms. “She reminds me of someone. Who do you think?”
Pamela swallowed, unwilling to answer. She had to get him out of here, away from the baby. She would have to come up with some way to hide the truth.
The television volume rose as a news banner flashed across the screen.
Breaking news. Trouble, Texas.
The picture of a battered and bloody woman took up the entire screen.
Pamela almost cried out in shock at the sight. With a trembling hand, she grabbed the remote and pressed the volume control so she could hear.
“The sheriff’s office revealed the woman was found in an abandoned mine west of Trouble. Referred to as Jane Doe, she cannot identify herself due to a head injury. They’re asking anyone who knows or has seen this woman to contact them immediately.”
Pamela dropped the remote. She glanced at her son, then swayed. “This can’t be happening. That woman is supposed to be dead. She tried to steal my baby.”
