Lindsey has taken to holing himself up in Stevie's room. The police had collected her journal as evidence, and he was itching to know what the pages held. The DNA from the necklace wouldn't come in until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. Lindsey is sitting on Stevie's closet floor, looking through her boxes of pictures.
Most of them are her polaroid self portraits. There's some candids of the band around the studio and in random places from tour. There's one of her and Lindsey sitting in the living room of their first apartment. Their roommate had taken it. Lindsey was sitting behind her, arms wrapped around her waist with his head on her shoulder as she held his guitar in her lap.
Lindsey pockets that one and puts the boxes back on the shelf where he found them. Unable to stay still, Lindsey wanders downstairs again. Everyone is in their own rooms, trying to get some rest. He hears music coming from the stereo in the living room, and finds Robin sifting through Stevie's demos. Lindsey sits beside her and helps her sort.
"These ones are from her solo album she's been working on," Robin says, handing him a tape. He stops the track that's in the stereo and pops the cassette in, a beautiful piano melody coming through the speakers.
"She calls it Bella Donna," Robin smiles, closing her eyes and listening to Stevie sing.
Lindsey closes his eyes as he listens. The song is beautiful.
"I had no idea she was so unhappy," He whispers, stopping the tape.
"She just wants to do more. She doesn't feel that she's able to bring all the songs she wants to use to you guys. You beat her up."
"God, I know. I'm so mean to her, I don't know why."
"You're heartbroken. It's understandable. She still loves you, you know. You have no idea how many nights she crawls into my bed crying about how she can't be alone, how she misses you."
Lindsey's heart breaks, and he wipes his tears quickly.
"I love her so much, Robin."
"I know," She says softly, squeezing his hand.
"Hey, did anyone check Don's house in New York?" Lindsey asks, trying to distract himself.
"I'm not sure."
He stands and goes downstairs to find Bowers.
"Don Henley has a house in New York that she stays at when she's there talking to her record label. Did you guys check it out?"
"No, we didn't know. I'll call over and have them send out a squad."
Lindsey nods and heads back upstairs.
The phone rings, and Gnash makes them wait to answer it until it can be recorded. Lindsey answers.
"Hello?"
"Lindsey?"
"Stevie?" He gasps, gripping the phone tightly. "Where are you? Are you okay?"
"I don't know," She cries, sniffling. She's whispering.
"Stephanie, where are you?"
"I don't know, Linds. I don't know what happened, but I woke up in this dark room and I don't know where I am."
Lindsey looks to Gnash, who is listening in. He stiffens, but motions for Lindsey to keep her on the line as they attempt to track the call.
"We're looking for you. We'll find you, baby, don't worry, okay?"
"Okay," She sniffles. He can picture her, tears staining her cheeks. "Linds, I'm scared."
"I know, I know you are, my love. We'll find you, okay? Everything is going to be okay. Do you know who took you?"
