"Something's going on."

"I know," Diane said as she stared out the kitchen window. The fire pit had been a gift from her children for her anniversary a few years back. It extended off their existing patio. The fire pit itself was made of big stones of different shapes and sizes. It was two feet high. Half the circle was surrounded by four conversation chairs made of eucalyptus with a brown finish. The cushions were are a cream color. A curved bench seat that matched the stone fire pit with a smooth concrete slab on top took up the rest of the circle around the fire pit. Since the project had been finished, she and Jim had spent many nights sitting by the fire when the weather permitted.

Rachel currently occupied one of the middle chairs. Her feet were tucked beneath her. A glass of sweet iced tea sat on the ring around the fire pit. On her lap was a sketch pad. The sketch pad was never far from her daughter's reach. From the moment she arrived yesterday Rachel spent a lot of her time with her head buried in the pages, her pencil swiftly moving back and forth. What she was drawing remained a mystery. Rachel never offered up a peek of what she was working on.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Stacy looked at her mom, a bemused look on her face. "Losing your touch?"

Diane sent Stacy a look that only caused her oldest daughter's smile to get bigger. "She's been able to stay one step ahead of me."

"Any idea what it is?" Stacy asked, looking back out the window at her sister. She watched Rachel raise a hand and brush it against her cheek and her heart clenched. "She's crying."

"Yeah," Diane said softly.

"You're not going to go to her?"

Diane shook her head. "She shuts me out."

"How long are you going to let this go on before you force her to tell you what's wrong?"

Diane opened her mouth to reply but the ringing of the phone stopped her response. Moving to the phone on the counter, she lifted the receiver from its base. "It's Lance," she told Stacy and pressed the talk button. "Hello?"

"Mom, have you heard from Rachel?"

"What do you mean have I heard from Rachel?" Diane's eyes met Stacy's.

"She's gone Mom." Lance's voice was frantic. "JC hasn't seen her since Wednesday morning. She's not answering anyone's calls or texts. Her car is gone. I'm about ready to go to the police. Jesus, what if something happened? It's been 48 hours! We may be too late..."

"Lance," Diane said, but her son just steam rolled over her. "Lance!" She shouted into the phone. It fell silent on Lance's end. "Rachel's here."

"What?" Lance asked frozen. He had been pacing back and forth in his living room. His mother's words caused him to pull up short. "What do you mean Rachel is there? In Mississippi?" His eyes met JC's who collapsed against the back of the couch. The relief evident on his face.

"She showed up Thursday morning. Said she got in late Wednesday, spent the night at a hotel in Jackson before coming here," Diane explained. "You didn't know she left LA?"

"That's impossible," Stacy said, listening to her mother's side of the conversation. "Rachel tells Lance everything. If not Lance then JC..." her words petered off when Diane shook her head.

"Mom, I haven't spoken to Rachel in a couple of days. I just thought she was busy with getting ready to leave for New Orleans in a week. I didn't know anything was wrong until JC came to me just now. We called everyone who might know where Rachel was, no one has heard from her."

"Then you don't know what's wrong?"

"No I don't know what's wrong." Lance pinched the bridge of his nose to try and ward off the headache he felt brewing. His heart had been lodged in his throat the moment he opened his front door and saw a disheveled JC on the other side. His concern only grew when he tried to contact his sister only to receive no response as well. Even Michael had gotten nowhere. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

"I'm not a miracle worker contrary to what you and your sister think."

"You always find out what's wrong and Rachel's the easiest one to crack."

"Not this time I'm afraid."

Lance sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand. "Have you been able to find out anything?"

"No Lance. Whatever happened to send her here, she's keeping pretty close to the chest. She's putting up a front, but we all see through it. I didn't even know she wasn't talking to anyone in California. Come to think of it," Diane paused in thought. "I haven't even seen her with a phone."

"Can I talk to her?" Lance finally asked.

"Yeah, just let me walk outside." Diane told her son. "She's been sitting outside at the fire pit for hours now. Just drawing in the sketch pad of hers."

"What's she drawing? Maybe that will offer a clue." Lance asked him mother before turning the phone away from his mouth to address JC. "Mom's taking the phone to her. She's sitting outside."

"She won't show anyone." Diane said and walked outside, shutting the door behind her. "Rachel?" She called. It took everything she had not to barge up to her daughter in hopes to catch her off guard before the walls could be erected.

"Yeah?" Rachel quickly flipped the book shut and looked over her shoulder as Diane approached. She paled seeing the phone in her hand. Her heart started to pound in her chest and her hand tightened into a fist, hard enough for her nails to dig in to her skin.

"Lance is on the phone." Diane took in Rachel's appearance. Her eyes were red rimmed and shinning with unshed tears. They darted around the yard looking for an escape. She pursed her lips and held the phone out watching as Rachel stared at the device like it was a bomb seconds away from exploding.

Rachel knew she had to take the phone call. If she didn't accept the call from Lance, there was no way she was getting out of the backyard without her mother going full on interrogator. Slowly she reached her arm up and took the phone from her mother. "Hey Lance..." she tried to force as much cheer as she could in to her voice. After all, it wasn't Lance she was upset with.

"What the hell is the matter with you!" Lance exploded when he heard Rachel's voice. "Do you have any idea the hell you put me through? You were gone! No one has seen you. No one has heard from you. You weren't answering your phone. I thought something bad had happened! If mom hadn't said you were there, I was going to police!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hearing the hurt and anger in her brother's voice. She hadn't let herself think about what her actions would cause. Her brain was telling her to run. It was drowning out every single other voice in her head. The plan hadn't been to ignore everyone. The only one she wanted to ignore was JC, but she had been too scared to look at her phone knowing there would be a lot of messages and missed calls from him. She wasn't ready to hear his voice.

"You're sorry?" Lance asked incredulously. "What the fuck happened that made you just up and fly to Mississippi?"

"I needed to get away." She cringed hearing Lance swear at her response.

"Cut the fucking bullshit. You know damn well I don't believe you. You know you can't lie to me. Tell me what's wrong? What happened?" The final question came out as a plea.

"I can't. Not right now. I'm sorry." She apologized again.

Lance sighed and rubbed a hand over his face again. He looked up when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and saw JC standing next to him. There were a million questions on his face. Lance didn't have an answer to a single one. "Fine. When are you coming back? Are you just gonna meet JC in New Orleans?"

"I don't know," Rachel said softly.

"What do you mean you don't know!" Lance's voice rose again, his gaze locking on JC's. "What kind of answer is that?"

"It's the only one I can give right now Lance."

Lance rubbed his temples. The headache he had been trying to hold off had exploded full force. It pounded behind his eyes.

"Can I talk?" JC asked, his eyes almost pleading with Lance's. It had been a huge relief to find out that Rachel was safe and sound albeit in Mississippi, but safe and sound nonetheless. Listening to the one sided conversation was killing him. He had so many questions. What had happened to make Rachel run to Mississippi? Why hadn't she come to him? He had always been her go to guy when there was something going on in her life. She had bypassed him completely. She had bypassed everyone completely. Him. Lance. Michael. Melissa. Renee. He spoke to every single person in their inner circle of friends. She hadn't contacted any of them. Now she wasn't even sure if she was coming back to California? She wasn't sure if she was meeting him in New Orleans in a week?

"Yeah," Lance sighed again and handed JC his cell phone. With both hands now free he used his fingers to massage his temples, pressing hard.

"Rachel listen, I..." JC frowned at the noise over the speaker. It sounded almost like an aborted sob before the line cut off. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the display. The words ‘Call Ended" stared back at him. He spared a look at Lance before tapping the call button. He listened through the rings. Each ring caused the pit in his stomach to grow wider and wider. When the voicemail kicked on, he hung up and tried again.

"Lance I don't know what happened," Diane said in lieu of hello. She stared toward the house where Rachel had disappeared. She herself had been halfway through the kitchen door when the ringing of the phone got her attention. By the time she got back to the fire pit, the ringing had stopped only to start again. "She just hung up the phone abruptly and ran into the house crying. I'm sorry."

JC couldn't make his mouth work. He couldn't force words out. Rachel had hung up on him. Him. Not Lance. Him.

"Lance honey, are you there?"

JC coughed, clearing his throat. "It's JC, Mrs. Bass. Uhm, here's Lance." He shoved the phone into Lance's hands unable to meet his eyes. "I gotta go."

Lance stared after JC confused. What had just happened?

"Lance are you there? JC? Hello? What's going on?"

"It's me Mom," Lance said into the phone hearing the front door shut. A few minutes later a car started and tires screeched. "I think I may have found a clue."

*~*

JC slammed the door to his house. His mind had been going a mile a minute ever since Diane had told him Rachel had hung up the phone. Why had she hung up on him? Rachel had talked to Lance with no issues, but the moment he got on the phone... Three words. He had spoken three words to Rachel and those had caused her to not only hang up the phone, but to run into the house crying. Why?

In the living room he paced back and forth as he racked his brain trying to figure out what was going on. Whatever it was had to be huge to make Rachel run to Mississippi. In all the years she had worked for him, he couldn't remember a time when she chose not to come to him about anything. Even if it had been something he didn't want to hear, she came to him. Now... now that had changed. Not only did she not come to him, she left.

It centered around him. He was at a complete loss. There had been nothing going on between them that would cause something like this to happen. Things had been fine between them. Great even. Their friendship was solid as it ever had been. His life was getting a little more hectic with the Broadway show approaching. Not only did he have the show happening over the summer, but he had been in the studio. He was providing vocals on a track for Smokey Robinson's latest album as well has providing vocals on the Blues Traveler's latest CD. There was also the producing he was doing. Rachel had been kept busy, busier than she had been previously. There had not been an issue. In fact, Rachel had told him to take on more projects.

JC sighed and sat down on the couch. He ran his hands over his face and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his face in his hands. Opening his eyes he saw one of Rachel's hair ties on the floor at his feet. Staring at it, he tried to think about the previous days leading up to when Rachel had left. Nothing stood out. They were ordinary days. The night before she left, he'd been practicing lines. Rachel had tried to help. They hadn't gotten very far. Rachel had been absolutely terrible. He hadn't been able to keep a straight face listening to her dramatic and over the top readings.

After they gathered themselves, they had decided to go out for burgers had a dive joint tucked away from the crowds that only the locals knew about. When they had gotten back to the house, Rachel had made him sit through a terrible movie that had been playing on Lifetime. He had sat at one end of the couch providing commentary, while Rachel had laid at the other end, her feet on his lap. When he'd say something not particularly funny, she'd poke him in the thigh with her toe. It hadn't taken him long to grab hold of her feet and start tickling them until she was begging for mercy.

Did she know his feelings? Had JC given them away? It wasn't as if he had done a good job at hiding them. Friends didn't have tickle wars on the couch. He never had them with any of his other female friends. He didn't do them with any of his male friends. Friends also didn't cuddle on the couch under the same blanket. He and Rachel did that a lot. Maybe she had figured it out

Did he chase Rachel away? Did she figure out his feelings for her? If she did, why couldn't she just talk to him? She could have come to him and let him know she didn't feel the same. Sure it would have hurt, but he would have been able to move on. Eventually. He could have shut the door on the possibility of ‘them' and started looking for someone he could spend his life with elsewhere.

JC wasn't sure it was possible to find another person who fit him more perfectly than Rachel did. They meshed well together. She understood him better than anyone else ever did or ever could. Without having to tell her a thing, she could read his emotions or pick up something in his tone. Sometimes all he would have to do is send her a look and she'd know exactly what he was thinking and do it.

She didn't know if she was coming back to California. She didn't know if she was going to meet him in New Orleans. Lifting his head from his hands, JC looked around the house. What if that meant Rachel was moving out? It hurt him to think about how empty his house would be if Rachel was gone. It was already lonely enough without her there. How was it going to feel when all her things were gone?

JC pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at his text messages. There were plenty of messages sent to Rachel, but the last message she sent him struck a chord.

‘Bye JC.'

When he had received the text in the studio he laughed. He had expected no less from her when he had asked her to make a coffee run. It had been in jest and he had made a coffee run himself ten minutes later. He'd been teasing her, hoping to get her riled up. It pleased him when she would get wound up and go off on him. A lot of times he did it on purpose. He'd make a comment and sit back and enjoy.

Now JC looked at the message differently. Had that been the moment Rachel had decided to go to Mississippi? Had that been the moment she had run? Did she send that text not as ‘God you're an idiot and I can't deal with you right now' but as an honest to goodness ‘Goodbye' with a finality to it? Had he brushed it off without knowing exactly what was going on?

Maybe he should have interrupted her that morning while she had been working. If he had interrupted her, maybe he could have picked up on something that would have alerted him. Then he would have been able to try and work it out with her. He would have told Jimmy to begin without him. He would have stayed home and worked out whatever needed to be worked out. But he hadn't. He had stood behind her and watched her work thinking inappropriate thoughts.

Walking over the DVDs, JC ran his finger across the spine until he came to the one he wanted. Pulling the Star Wars DVD from its spot, a pink envelope came with it. Rachel's name was scrawled across the middle in his chicken scratch handwriting. He wondered if he would have a chance to give it to her. The party was a week from tomorrow. As of right now, it wasn't looking good for Rachel to be in attendance. Depending on what Rachel would tell Lance, it probably wouldn't be a good idea for him to be in attendance. Going to Europe with Rachel wasn't looking too promising either. How could he fix this? Where did he even begin to try when he didn't even know what was wrong to begin with? How could he fix it when Rachel wouldn't even talk to him?