THE CRADLE CONSPIRACY (14 page)

Bile rose in his throat, and he opened the door. His mother sat in a chair next to one of the room’s cribs. Christopher looked down at the tuft of black hair and pale face of the baby in the crib.

“Who is this?”

His mother blinked through teary eyes. She kneaded her hands in her lap, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’m so, so sorry, Christopher. I wanted to tell you. Really I did, but she convinced me not to.”

He stilled. “What are you talking about, Mother?”

His mother bit her lip. “This is Christina.”

Christopher leaned over the pale, thin child lying so still. No. This wasn’t right. “No way. Who’s the other kid? Because this baby isn’t Christina.”

Pamela started crying.

“What’s wrong with her?” He couldn’t get over how sickly his adopted sister appeared, almost as if she were close to death.

Pamela choked back a sob. “She has aplastic anemia. Her body doesn’t make enough new blood cells. It’s like cancer.”

“Can’t they do something?”

“She has a severe case. Only a bone marrow transplant will cure her, and she has a rare blood type.”

“Like me,” he said. “But they do matches. We’ll do a drive. We’ll find a donor.”

“I already did,” Pamela said, pointing to the second crib in the room. “I found a perfect match.”

Christopher looked at the second child, rosy cheeks, dark hair—the baby he’d thought was Christina. He stared at his mother, noting for the first time the intensity in her gaze, the almost manic energy. “Who is she?”

Pamela shook her head. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

He whirled her around. “What’s going on, Mother?”

Pamela stood over the sickly baby, looking down on her daughter with a tender smile, and stroked her cheek. “I missed you when you were in Afghanistan, honey. Despite everything you did and how you left, you were still my son.” She turned to him. “I know I shouldn’t say anything, but I’ve prayed about it. You have a right to know. I got a visit after you left the last time. From Chelsea.”

Chelsea
. “You hate her and never made it a secret,” Christopher said, crossing his arms. “Why would she come to you?”

“She needed money,” Pamela said, biting her lip, worry on her face.

Funny, his mother normally had a stoic expression that never revealed anything. It came from years of hiding her fear of her husband. Christopher had the same gift.

“Chelsea came to me with a...problem. You’d been forced into the military. She didn’t have your number, and she was overwhelmed and embarrassed by her predicament.” Pamela straightened. “I should never have agreed to keep it a secret, though. She lied to me the entire time. She’s a whore, but as soon as I saw Christina, I knew—”

Pamela halted, as if terrified to go on.

Christopher could feel his brain revving with frustration, recognized the temper on the edge of an explosion. The army shrinks had tried to help him control himself. It usually worked when he wanted it to. He sucked in a breath while fighting against the urge to ram his fist through the wall. “Just
tell
me. What did you know?”

Pamela shrank away from him. “Stay calm, Christopher, please. Chelsea was pregnant. She never wanted you to know. Christina is
your
child. And my grandchild.”

He clawed his scalp and let loose a loud string of curses. Fighting against every violent instinct inside, he clutched the crib and stared down at the baby.
His
baby.

“She’s mine?” He studied his daughter’s features, so very familiar, then looked at the other baby. “She’s a perfect bone marrow match? Weird. They even look alike. Or they would if Christina were well.”

Pamela straightened. “That’s because they’re identical twins.”

Christopher gasped. “And Chelsea didn’t tell me?”

“You’re not the only one Chelsea lied to,” Pamela said. “These are your twin daughters, and Chelsea sold one of them to the highest bidder, to the woman on the television. I hurt her when I was trying to get your daughter back for you. I’m lucky I even found out what Chelsea did.”

Christopher could feel his blood pressure mount. His temple throbbed; his hand shook. Fury like he’d never experienced erupted along his skin, raking like hot coals.

“Chelsea lied about everything,” he snarled. “I would have loved her forever, and she betrayed me.” He slipped a Bowie from his boot. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore, Mother. She’ll be dead by tonight.”

* * *

“T
HE
LITTLE
GIRL
in my locket is my attacker’s baby?” Raven yelled.

This couldn’t be happening. Her mind searched the snippets of memory she’d recovered, but she had nothing. “She’s not mine?”

The horizon swayed.

Daniel scooped her into his arms before she hit the ground.

“Way to go, genius.” He glared at Elijah, as he sat with Raven on the ground.

Raven clutched the locket around her neck. “There must be some mistake. I remember a pink blanket. I remember a baby. I’ve
had
a baby. The doctor said I delivered a child.” Raven grasped Daniel’s arm. “Why would I be wearing a locket of a baby that wasn’t mine? It doesn’t make sense. Who is she?”

Noah cleared his throat. “We’re searching the DNA databases. It’s taking a while to access the criminal and military records, but we may know part of the answer. Elijah, overachiever that he is, used age progression software to provide a guess of what the baby’s parents might look like. We ran the image through my new facial recognition software. We found a 90 percent match to a woman from El Paso. We’re trying to get her DNA.”

Raven opened the locket, her heart twisting in grief. Over the past three days she’d come to love the baby’s sweet smile, the sparkling eyes, the dimple. In her heart and mind she’d bonded with this baby. Raven’s chest tightened in panic at the thought of losing her daughter, and she started hyperventilating. She grabbed her throat, trying to suck in air.

Daniel faced her. “Okay, darlin’. Bend over, take deep breaths. We’ll figure this out.”

She focused on calming her breathing. “You’re saying my baby has
another
mother?”

This entire conversation felt wrong. It couldn’t be true. And yet the nausea rising in Raven’s gut was real. Some part of her believed Elijah and Noah were right.

Noah’s expression softened. “We don’t know everything yet,” he offered.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Elijah interrupted.

“A mug shot in El Paso matches the profile,” Noah added. “The woman has moved since her arrest, though. They’re tracking down the address. We’ll know more after we interview her.”

Daniel rubbed Raven’s back, but she could barely feel his touch. The image inside that locket had been the only touchstone in her life, besides Daniel, since she’d opened her eyes in that mine. Now she felt adrift.

“What’s the possible mother’s name?” Raven asked.

“Chelsea Rivera,” Noah said. “She’s got a string of arrests for shoplifting, a few minor drug charges, but nothing major.”

Raven closed her eyes, willing her memory to explain the facts, but the name meant nothing to her. And her head had begun to throb once again.

She glanced at Daniel and could hardly stand to acknowledge the sympathy written on his face.

He hugged her closer. “We’ll find out who the baby is. This could be a coincidence. Or perhaps you adopted this woman’s baby.”

“I wish I could remember.”

Noah leaned forward. “Did the program work? Did you recall anything that will help?”

“Only that I might be married,” Raven whispered.

Noah let out a low whistle. He met Daniel’s gaze and raised a brow.

Raven ducked her head. What had happened between them was beautiful and special. She’d fallen for Daniel. She refused to believe that was wrong.

He turned Raven in his arms. “We
will
find the baby and the answers. I promise you that.”

“Zane at CTC is running Chelsea’s background, including finances,” Elijah interjected. “If we get the woman’s blood sample, we’ll be able to confirm or disprove her identity.”

“We have to talk to her. She might be able to clear everything up,” Daniel said, standing, helping Raven to her feet. “We might be mere hours away from answers.”

“I pray so.” Raven chewed on her lower lip. “But I’m terrified I won’t like the answers.”

The sound of another helicopter broke through her thoughts. A rescue chopper this time.

“I’ll get our supplies from the cave,” Daniel said to Noah and Elijah. “You all grab the sheriff’s attention.”

Raven slipped her hand into Daniel’s. “I’ll help you,” she said quietly, her fingers trembling.

He didn’t argue.

Trouble followed them into the cave, close to Raven’s side.

“You okay?” Daniel asked.

“Not even close,” she said. “How can this be? I remember a wedding. I remember a baby who may or may not be mine. I may have adopted a child. Why would any of these things make someone want me dead? Did I steal the baby?”

Daniel brought her face within two inches of his own. “Don’t be crazy. We’ll figure it out.”

She nodded her head and climbed up the rocks to their cave.

Standing next to him, she stared inside the rock haven, the place they’d made love, the place she’d felt so close to Daniel. She glanced over at him. “I was happy here for a few hours. At peace, if that makes sense.”

“Me, too. For the first time in a long time.” He bent his head and touched her lips lightly with his. “I don’t regret holding you in my arms, Raven. No matter what happens, I won’t ever be sorry I made love to you.”

He knelt down and started stuffing items in the duffel while Raven gathered up the baby toys and packed Noah’s small bag.

They were done too quickly. “I want to disappear,” she said. “I don’t want to be part of this craziness anymore. Does that make me a coward?”

“It makes you human,” he said.

Daniel hitched the pack on his shoulder and led the way out of the cave. Raven paused for a moment. The water had slowed some, but still churned violently. She shivered, remembered dangling from the side until Daniel had rescued her. They both could have died.

The limbs on the cracked trunk they’d climbed on swayed, catching her attention. The whip was still tied to the tree and hung against the bark. She stepped toward it, and Daniel stopped her.

“I don’t want it, Raven. I don’t need it anymore. It’s just a memory now. Not a demon.”

Daniel held out his hand to her. Raven had to look back once. How ironic. Daniel had abandoned his memory on the edge of a cliff in the middle of nowhere, while she’d spent three days praying to remember.

Now all she wanted was to forget the past few hours ever happened and find her baby.

* * *

D
ANIEL
COULDN
’
T
SIT
still. He paced in front of the window in the sheriff’s office after eliminating the listening device planted on the outside phone line. Their only good news was that Lucy and Hondo had both come through surgery. While it might be a long recovery, particularly for the small woman, they would survive.

Noah and Elijah had left to trace the dead shooter’s motorcycle that had been left at the top of the mesa. They’d come back with a stolen vehicle report, no leads and no prints other than the owner’s. The guy must have used gloves.

Another
fruitless path. Man, they needed a break.

Raven sat stiff in the wooden chair across from the sheriff’s desk, her entire body tense and wired.

The sheriff tilted his Stetson back. “Raven, you
still
don’t remember anything?”

Daniel crossed his arms in irritation. “She already told you she didn’t, Galloway. Just let her alone.”

“It’s okay,” Raven said with gratitude in her eyes. “He has to ask, and I wish I had answers.” She turned to the sheriff. “I see flashes of scenes, but it’s only bits and pieces. A wedding, a pink blanket. Nothing that helps. Certainly nothing about Chelsea Rivera. But I won’t give up. I have to remember. I don’t have a choice.”

Damn, she was grace under pressure. Daniel couldn’t help but admire her. She might have been thrown by the news that the baby in the locket wasn’t hers, but she’d rallied, hounding Noah and Elijah for every detail they had. Unfortunately there was nothing more.

The fax machine in the corner whirred to life.

Raven jumped to her feet, and Galloway strode to the machine. He perused the message.

“Well?” she asked. “Is there any news for us?”

“The name Wayne Harrison mean anything to you?” the sheriff asked.

She rubbed her temple, rolling the name through her mind. “No. Maybe. I don’t know,” she said. “I feel like I
should
know it. This is
so
frustrating.”

“Who is he?” Daniel asked.

“According to CTC, a draft was drawn on an account jointly held by Wayne Harrison and his wife, Olivia. It was made out to C.R.—Chelsea Rivera—for over fifty thousand dollars about twenty-one months ago.

“Even more interesting than the amount is the fact that within a few months of receiving the money, Ms. Rivera entered the hospital.” The sheriff handed Daniel the fax. “On the maternity ward.”

“And my baby might be hers?” Raven gulped. “Are you saying I might be this Olivia Harrison?”

“I don’t know, but Chelsea’s hospital bill was also paid by Wayne and Olivia Harrison. Could be a private adoption. Could be something else.”

Sheriff Galloway stroked his chin. “No birth certificate, though. Kind of weird. And I don’t believe in odd coincidences. Money for a baby doesn’t usually result in a legal transaction.”

Raven glanced from one man to the other and fell back in her seat. “Oh, God. Do you think the baby was bought on the black market?”

Daniel recognized the moment she understood the possibility. Her eyes widened, then she shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t do such a thing. I wouldn’t buy a child. I can’t be this Olivia Harrison.”

He knelt in front of her. “Don’t jump to conclusions. The woman I know would need facts first.”