Part 6 (1/2)

She reluctantly took a sleeping pill.

”Help! Shayla! help!”

Shayla woke up suddenly, her heart racing as she regained her bearings. She was home in her own bed. It was only a dream. But the comfort was short-lived. What if it was a premonition, or worse, what if this already happened? She had seen the C Center logo in the dream as he was being dragged into the building. Her fingers nervously trembled as she picked up the phone, and made the call, against her better judgment.

”Good morning, Shayla,” she heard. It was Gerald, her mother's right-hand man. What was he doing answering her mother's direct line? s.h.i.+t. Shayla looked at the clock and realized it was morning-briefing time.

”I didn't realize the time. I'll call back later,” she said, hoping Gerald didn't hear the worry in her tone. He knew her well. Technically he was a servant, but he had been like a father to Shayla, certainly a more hands-on parent than her mother ever had been.

”Not a problem. I will get your mother. Just a second,” he said, before she had a chance to back pedal. Shayla's rapid heartbeat contrasted the relaxed music that whispered from the speaker into her ear while she waited for her mother's unmistakable voice, the very voice that frightened her as a child. Even now as she waited, she feared the sound.

”Is everything alright?” her mother asked as soon as she was on the line, concern penetrating her voice.

”Oh, I'm fine, mother. Just calling to say h.e.l.lo,” Shayla said. She tried to sound casual, but knew it was useless. Shayla rarely called to say h.e.l.lo, and certainly not at 6:10 a.m. As she woke up, a thought came to her. Maybe her mother was behind Nathaniel's disappearance. It was certainly possible! Why didn't she think of this before? Her mother had wanted to have a security detail follow her. While Shayla forbade it, that didn't mean that her mother listened. One thing was for certain, if her mother did have her followed and found out she was dating a manual laborer, it was entirely possible that she had Nathaniel kidnapped.

”That's good to hear!” her mother said with the jovial att.i.tude that defined her public persona. ”What can I do for you then, dear?”

”Anything new?” Shayla managed to say, realizing again what a mistake it was to call.

”Well, my dear, I'm trying to figure that out as I am in the middle of my morning meeting. You sure you're okay?” the Queen asked.

Shayla knew her mother's keen intuition had already detected something was amiss.

”Fine, I got up early and didn't realize what time it was. I'll let you get back to your...”

”Just a second,” her mother said, interrupting. She heard her mother's m.u.f.fled voice in the background. Shayla twirled the end of her long dark hair, a nervous habit from childhood that hadn't surfaced in years.

”I'm all yours,” her mother said.

”You didn't have to cancel your meeting! I'm really fine. Besides, I've got to get ready for work myself,” Shayla said. She winced at the nervous sound of her own voice.

”How is that new job of yours, anyway? You getting that out of your system?” her mother asked with the judgmental zing that Shayla knew well.

”I love the Cambridge Public Works and the people. I'm learning a lot,” Shayla said, with emphasis.

”You'd learn more elsewhere, but I'm glad you're happy,” her mother said with audible reluctance.

”There is, ah, actually something you can help me with, come to think of it,” Shayla said, trying to sound casual as she furiously twirled that lock into a s.h.i.+rley Temple curl. There was n.o.body else to turn to with the means to locate him. Wherever Nathaniel was, and whatever happened to him, Shayla had to know the truth.

”Of course. What is it?” she asked.

”Do you think you could find someone who is missing?” Shayla asked, trying to edit the fear out of her voice.

A moment of dead air quickly cooled their warm connection.

”What do you mean someone's missing?” the Queen asked with concern. ”Who are we talking about?”

”A friend of mine just disappeared a little over a week ago. He hasn't shown up to work and n.o.body he knows has heard from him. I just didn't know if you might...”

”Of course, I'll help if I can. It sounds rather strange. Are you sure this person didn't run away?”

”Yes, mother. I'm sure,” Shayla said impatiently.

”Okay, okay. I'm just asking. Who is it?”

”A friend.”

”I can't help if you won't give me the name, now can I?”

”It's a friend from Cambridge. His name is Nathaniel DeLuca.”

”Is he just a friend?” the Queen asked coyly. Shayla could hear the smile in her voice.

”Mother. This is serious. My friend has vanished,” she said choking back tears, once again considering the possibilities.

”Okay, okay...what's his name again?”

”Nathaniel DeLuca.”

”I'll put some people on it immediately. I promise. In the meantime, why don't you come home for a few days and relax?” she said.

”I need to be here now,” Shayla said softly.

”Nonsense, you need to be with your mother. I'm sending a plane. A few days off will do you some good.”

In one sense, her mother was the last person on earth she wanted to see, but there was something appealing about going home to the Palace's insulation. Her mom wasn't always easy to be around, but Gerald always offered comfort.

”Let me think about it.”

”I've gotta go. Someone needs to speak with me. I'll call you later, but thank you for looking,” Shayla said, not looking to see who was calling in as she clicked over.

”Is this Shayla Smith?” the voice asked in a slur. Shayla's heart beat fluttered with fear.

”Yes. May I ask who is calling?”

”My name is Janice. I think you know who I am.”

Chapter 12.

The musty bas.e.m.e.nt smell woke him. On top of that, he was s.h.i.+vering. He flipped on the lamp beside him on the floor. The raw brightness from the naked bulb stung his eyes as he surveyed the chilly environment. The room had two doors. One looked like a fortress exit with multiple locks, and the other was open, with a toilet in view. He searched unsuccessfully for a clock before glancing at his chafed wrists, where his watch - an engagement gift from Janice - used to be.

After going to the bathroom, he returned to the makes.h.i.+ft bed; an old mattress on the floor with a few dirty blankets. His head boomed with each step. It felt like a hangover, but it definitely wasn't from enjoying too much Maker's Mark. They had injected him with something. That much he remembered.

A clicking sound startled Nathanial. One by one, he saw the door locks unlatch, making his fears intensify about the uncertainty of what lay ahead.