Fiction, Part I, Section 3*

They talked most of the night, but neither of them could put their finger on specifically what was going on. It boiled down to a few unexplainable events that made Ty nervous and merely confused Sam: a missing money order meant to pay his share of the rent, a brand new carton of milk that was suddenly sour, and a strange, almost desperate long distance call from Lynn, begging him to come home to Minnesota, something she'd never done before. Ty had been in a meeting with their band's manager when the phone call came, so he'd told her he'd call her back, but that had been three days ago and he hadn't been able to reach her.

Sometime near dawn, they fell into a restless but platonic sleep in Sam's waterbed. She tossed and turned, but after a while she could tell by his steady breathing that he was finally resting. In the moonlight, she studied his profile for a while and had to force herself not to touch his face. So handsome, yet so troubled, she thought sadly. A great guy who couldn't seem to catch a break in his life, both personally and professionally. She longed to wrap her arms around him, tell him she'd fix everything, and take over his life. The thought made her smile, because she knew he would balk just as surely as she knew she would never do it, but part of her really wanted to. He was not the kind of man she pictured herself with in the future, but sometimes it seemed easier to try to fix a guy that already existed than to wait for a knight in shining armor to come riding into her life at some unknown time.

Full of curiosity and strange longings, she finally fell asleep.

When she finally woke up, it was close to noon and she was alone. She rolled over, stretched and eased herself onto the side of the bed. She could hear someone in the kitchen and she smiled to herself, wondering if Ty could cook or make coffee. When it came to practical things, like changing the tire of a car or grocery shopping, Ty didn't have a lot of common sense.

After using the bathroom to pull her hair into a ponytail, brush her teeth and wash her face, she found him at her small kitchen table, a phone book in front of him and his cell phone at his ear.

"--I know, Mrs. K," he was saying. "But I'm worried about her. She called me when I was in a meeting, and she sounded really upset, but I haven't been able to reach her so I thought... yes, ma'm, I know, but if you would just--" He rolled his eyes but took a deep breath. Finally, he thanked her and hung up. "Ignorant old bat!" he muttered, looking up at Sam with a smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning." She pulled a mug down from the cabinet and poured a cup of the coffee he'd made, hoping for the best. "Who was that?"

"Lynn's mom!" he shook his head. "It's not like her to not take my calls, but that's what her mom told me, that she was finally growing a backbone and letting me know she was done with me."

"Any possibility that's true?"

"Maybe." he shrugged. "But she sounded really upset, and in my last message, I just told her I was worried, and even if she didn't want to talk to me, just send me a text to let me know she's okay."

"And no word at all?" Sam frowned. She'd met Lynn once, and she'd seemed like a quiet, intelligent woman who still carried a torch for her high school sweetheart. She was an elementary school teacher, so it wasn't like she had the freedom to just drop off the face of the earth. That gave Sam an idea. "You could call her work Monday."

"Yeah." He sighed. "She's just never done this before. No matter how much of a fight we've had, she always picks up when I call."

"You think this is related to what's going on with Johnny?" she asked, taking a surprisingly delicious sip of coffee.

He nodded. "He's trying to distract me from something else by giving me stupid shit to think about--missing rent checks, stressed out ex-girlfriends..." He fixed his blue eyes on her and blinked. "I think he just wants me out of the band."

"He can't write all those songs himself!" she laughed. "And no one gets the girls to come to the shows like you do... besides, you own the name, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but that's easy. He could add an "e" to the end or put "the" at the beginning. That's the least of his worries."

Sam propped herself against the counter and cocked her head. "Ty, you know I'll do anything to help you, but you're not giving me anything concrete."

"If I had something concrete, I'd be doing something instead of just worrying about it!" he snapped. Then he sighed. "Sorry. I'm a little on edge."

"Well, I've got work to do today so I'm going to turn on the computer and--" She was interrupted by a brisk knock on the door. They looked at each other and Ty immediately stood up and tip-toed to the door.

His eyes widened as he looked out, and he gaped at her. "It's Johnny!" he mouthed.

Sam grabbed his sneakers and threw them into the coat closet, while Ty grabbed his wallet and keys off the kitchen counter. "Into my bathroom," she whispered. "Close the door and don't come out." She mussed her hair a little and walked to the door. "Who is it?" she called.

"Um, Sam, it's me, Johnny Kranston."

"Johnny?" She opened the door a crack and forced herself to smile, despite her heart slamming in her chest. "What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?"

"You're in the phone book." He gave her a disarming smile so guileless she almost wondered if Ty was imagining things. "I'm really sorry to bother you on a Sunday morning, but I'm worried about Ty and wondered if you'd seen him."

"Actually, I saw him at the Rainbow last night," she said, with a frown. "But he was in a hurry and we only talked for a minute before he took off."

"I haven't seen him since rehearsal Thursday night," he said, leaning forward as though hinting at being invited in. "And we've got rehearsal tonight, so I'm a little worried."

"Gosh, that's not like him," she said earnestly. "But I don't know what to tell you. If he calls, which he probably won't, I'll tell him you're looking for him."

"Um, okay." Johnny looked a little surprised that she was dismissing him. "You okay, Sam?"

"Yeah, I've just got a deadline and I drank too much last night." She gave him a lopsided smile. "You know how it is."

"Yeah, I do. Well, thanks anyway." He looked past her for a moment, gave her another winning smile, and then turned away. She shut the door, locked it and then leaned against it, waiting for her heart to still. Finally, she peeked out the peephole and jumped back, startled that he was still standing there, apparently listening against the door.

With a gasp, she tip-toed across the room, went into the bathroom, shut the door and then flushed the toilet. She threw herself against Ty and clutched his shoulders. "You're not kidding, Ty. Something is definitely up; he's still standing by the door!"

"Shit, shit, shit." Ty wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his nose in her hair. "Oh, God, Sam, I'm sorry I got you involved in this. I just didn't know where else to go."

"It's okay." She breathed against his chest. "We're going to figure this out. I promise."

To Be Continued...

*Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction. I'm writing it because I love fiction and mysteries and writing and all that goes with it. I'm going to write installments no more than twice a week (sometimes less) until no one is interested in reading it anymore. No outline, no pre-conceived plot or characters. I'm writing this soap opera style, with an ongoing storyline and characters that "build themselves." I will be using my experiences in the music business, the legal business, as a writer, as a mom, celebrities I've met, etc., but none of them will be real. I will also be using some of my favorite names, but they do NOT represent REAL PEOPLE. I know at least 8 or 9 musicians named Mark in real life--but the Mark in this story is not any of them! Names are names, nothing more. If you don't like the story, that's okay, but please don't get up in arms if I make a reference about Mick Jagger being too skinny or Pamela Anderson's breasts being too big--this is all for fun. Thanks for reading!