"Stevie is missing."
"That's a surprise," Lindsey says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"No, Lindsey, listen to me," Christine says, her tone frantic. He looks up from the lyrics he's been working on and sees the look on her face.
"Nobody's seen her in days. Not a soul. The last time anyone saw her was when she left the studio three days ago. Lori went to her house, and all her stuff was there. Her purse, her ID, everything. She's missing. Gone."
"Wh- Did you call the police?" He asks, shoving up from the desk. She nods.
"They're on their way over now. They've been looking through her house for two days. They told me on the phone that we all have to stay put until they get all of our statements."
Christine begins pacing back and forth. Lindsey sinks back onto the couch as Mick and John enter the studio, both pale and looking shaken.
"Could she have gone to Hawaii?" Lindsey asks, looking to Mick. He shakes his head.
"She would have told me. She stays at my house when she goes on her own."
"What about Phoenix? Have her parents heard from her?"
Christine shakes her head.
"They're on their way down now. Lori called them after she filed the missing persons report."
Missing. Stevie is missing. The police have an active investigation open on her.
Lindsey's hands shake as he reaches to pour himself a drink.
"Take it easy, mate, they're coming to take our statements," Mick warns, seeing Lindsey spill the liquid all over himself. He gives up and sets the bottle and glass back down.
"Is her journal missing too? She never goes anywhere without it," He says, looking to Christine. She seems to be the most knowledgeable on the situation at the moment.
"Lori didn't say."
"Shit. I need to call her," Lindsey says, standing to reach for the phone. Just then, three police officers enter the room.
The band gives their statements, all pretty much the same. Stevie had left in a huff after Lindsey suggested she change the melody on one of her songs. Nobody went after her. He'd wanted to, but he'd been to mad to care.
Yes, this happened often. Often enough they all expected an outburst from her at least once a day.
After giving his statement and contact information to the officers, Lindsey races to Stevie's house. Sharon, Lori and Robin are all sitting in the living room. They've all been crying. Lindsey greets them all quietly, looking around the room. Nothing is out of place. He half expects Stevie to just walk down the stairs and summon them up for a polaroid session.
"When did you see her last?" Lindsey asks them.
"She never got home from the studio," Sharon answers. Lori shakes her head and buries her face in her hands. Robin stares straight ahead.
"Her journal, is it gone?" He asks, bouncing his knee anxiously.
"No," Lori sniffles, "It's in her purse."
"Fuck," Lindsey sighs, standing and pacing the length of the room.
She had come in to the studio that day without her purse, upset with herself for forgetting the tape with her new demo on it. He remembered that clearly. They'd fought about it.
"What about Don? Has he-"
"Nobody has heard from her," Robin interrupts, tears spilling from her eyes. Lindsey wracks his brain for any possible clues he can think of. Anywhere she could have gone, anyone she could have gone with. She wouldn't have left on a trip without telling anyone, and it had been too many days for her to be knocked out in a drug induced haze somewhere. She would have called.
"We were the only people in the studio that night, nobody else could have seen anything. I left about an hour after her, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was no sign of struggle outside or anything..." He trails off, talking mostly to himself. An officer comes downstairs and sits with them, not really chiming in on their conversation as they all try to find a possible solution for this.
"Will you fucking sit down?" Robin snaps, glaring at him. He's wearing trenches into the carpet, he knows. He just doesn't know what else to do.
Lori and Sharon had gone to pick up the Nicks' at the airport. He sits beside her on the couch and drops his head into his hands.
"I'm so scared, Robin. This is so unlike her."
"I know. I'm terrified," She answers, tucking her legs under her on the couch. Mick, Christine and John join them in the living room, having had enough of waiting around by themselves.
"Did anyone call Tom?" Mick asks.
"We sent an officer to talk to him. Last he heard from her was Monday night," The officer responds. Lindsey squints at his name tag. Officer Gnash.
"Where is she?" Lindsey mutters, shaking his head. Nobody can say anything.
"What about Jimmy?" Christine asks.
Robin shakes her head, staring intently at her knees.
Barbara, Jess and Christopher murmur soft hellos as they enter, Lindsey sitting on the floor beside Christine so they can have the couch. Lori and Sharon sit in front of Robin. The four girls live together.
Nobody else is allowed in or out of the house. They're on lockdown until Stevie shows herself. Not that anyone cares, they'd all decided to stay here and help any way they can.
After sitting in silence for what feels like hours, another officer pokes his head in and requests to speak with Gnash. Lindsey can see a bag in his hand. Evidence.
One of her necklaces had been found in the parking lot of the studio. Her crescent moon. Lindsey blanches when he hears that, stumbling to the bathroom to throw up. The feeling of dread in his stomach almost knocks him out. Something bad happened to Stevie.
Coming up on the ninth hour of sitting on Stevie's living room, the phone rings. Everyone looks at each other and holds their breath as Gnash stands to answer it.
