The Cradle Conspiracy

Not attempting to cloak his obvious fury, Daniel settled against the wall just outside the partition.

Raven couldn’t believe what was happening. None of this made sense.

“That man claims he doesn’t know you, ma’am,” the sheriff said, pulling a small notebook from his uniform pocket. “Yet you say you do know him. Which is it?”

Her gaze went back and forth between the two men. “I...I don’t know.”

“Did Adams hurt you?”

Did he? She was already injured when she came to in the mine. She pressed her hand against her head. That damned throbbing was getting worse, scrambling her thoughts. “I...I don’t think so.” She blinked hard against the blur Daniel’s face had become. “I think he just helped me. I can’t really remember what happened before the cave-in.”

“So he could have put you there?”

“No. He specifically told me he didn’t do that.”

“What?” Galloway strode out to Daniel. “Okay, Adams, that’s it. You’re coming with me until I sort this out.” The sheriff slapped a cuff on Daniel’s wrist.

Daniel stilled, his face stiff as he stared at the silver bracelet. “Great, just great. Good Samaritan bites the dust one more time. When will I learn?”

Raven stared at him in handcuffs, horrified. Her mind whirled in confusion. She didn’t think he had hurt her, but could she be wrong? Nothing made sense.

His gaze went flat, the light behind his eyes dimming. Expressionless, lifeless, soulless. Instinctively Raven reached out to him, needing something, anything to hold on to, but Daniel turned away from her. “I guess I know where I’m headed. Thanks, sweetheart.”

The sheriff snagged his prisoner’s free arm and snapped the second cuff closed, pinning his arms behind him. The loud click echoed in the room, and Daniel’s jaw throbbed, his neck muscles bunched together. He didn’t look back at her.

She wanted to call out to Daniel, but she didn’t know what to say. She just couldn’t remember. She had to be Raven. Didn’t she?

Then why had he lied about not knowing her?

“I...don’t...remember.” The words stuttered from her. Desperation clawed at her insides.

The sheriff gave her a sympathetic grimace. “If Adams is telling the truth, he’ll be out soon. If not...you have nothing to be sorry about. You’re safe now.”

Sheriff Galloway escorted Daniel out.

The nurse whipped the curtain closed, shutting her in. Alone. Abandoned. The cream-covered cloth fluttered still, a barrier to the world. She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to stop the aching loneliness. Her hands and heart felt empty.

She turned to her side in the bed, staring at the curtained wall. She didn’t blink. Her vision grew blurry. Why couldn’t she remember? Try as she might, just a few glimmers sifted through her. A fuzzy dog’s face, a toy box, and Daniel.

She sighed. Daniel. What had she done? Why hadn’t she defended him? Why hadn’t she fought to make the sheriff understand that she felt safe with Daniel? She reached out her hand, wishing his strong fingers were there for her to grasp.

Her belly clenched. She had the unsettling feeling she’d just made a terrible mistake in letting Daniel go. She curled into a ball. Her fingernails bit into her palm.

Oh, God, what had she done?

* * *

THE NIGHTMARE WOULDN’T end. Raven knew she was asleep, but she couldn’t escape. Wrapped in a carpet. The dust, the dirt, the blood.

She fought against the memory suffocating her, struggling to break free from the prison. Her hands clenched at her side. Not carpet. Sheets.

The clinic. And a presence watching over her. She could feel its malevolence.

She squeezed her eyes tighter, unable to battle the unexpected terror seizing her body and her mind. She swallowed and forced herself to open her eyes.

“Daniel?” she mumbled, praying he was there, despite her letting him down.

Her blurry vision focused. A man stood above her, his face half-hidden by a surgical mask. Not Daniel though and not the doctor who’d treated her before.

“Who—”

Before she could ask, he pressed his fingers around her throat, then clamped his other hand over her mouth and nose. He tightened his grip, cutting off all air.

Please, God. She couldn’t breathe. She twisted against him, each movement sending shafts of pain and light through her brain. He pressed harder, then braced himself and used his knee to hold her to the bed. He was crushing her windpipe.

Panicked, she grappled for the call button, but he yanked it from her hand. White spots filled her graying vision. She couldn’t die this way. She wouldn’t.

Frantic, relying on pure instinct, Raven used all of her remaining strength to drive the flat of her palm into the man’s nose as hard as she could. She heard the crunch of breaking bone.

Her attacker yelled and stumbled back, blood spewing over his mask.

A string of expletives exploded, and he slammed his fist into her head. Pain like a thousand pieces of shrapnel penetrating her skull shattered her control, but she had one chance to live.

Screaming for help, she clutched her head and curled up to protect herself.

Shouting and approaching footsteps sounded from beyond the curtain.

“Damn it!” Her assailant, wearing a white doctor’s coat over jeans, shoved through the curtain, covered with his own blood. He slammed a metal cart to the side and barreled over the doctor.

Raven struggled to take in air through her damaged throat. She heard frantic cries to call the sheriff, and the thud and crash of more bodies and equipment hitting the floor.

The doctor staggered to her side, blood streaming down the side of his face. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“That man tried to kill me,” Raven croaked. “I need Daniel. Someone please get me Daniel.”

The doctor yelled out some orders then bent over her. “Stay with me, Raven. Don’t give up.”

She blinked through the agonizing pain. All she wanted to do was sleep. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. She sucked in a shallow breath. She should have trusted her gut. She should have trusted Daniel.

She had made a horrible mistake. She just prayed Daniel wouldn’t hold it against her.

* * *

THE JAIL CELL was too small.

Daniel lay rigid on the bunk and stared at the tiles on the ceiling, counting the dotted patterns within them. He refused to look at the gray cinder-block walls, and he sure as hell wouldn’t look at the bars holding him in this prison.

Cringing and screaming on the floor, fighting off phantoms only he could see, would go a long way to convincing Galloway he had a psycho on his hands. If Daniel didn’t get out soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold it together. That time was coming closer every second.