Friday, October 19   6:30 pm

"And that is how he died," I said to Officer Degenhardt. I gripped the mahogany armrest and wiped a tear on the shoulder of my champagne long sleeve flare blouse.

Officer Degenhardt frowned. "Ehlana," he took his glasses off and laid them on his desk, then rubbed his tired eyes. "We have exhausted every avenue we could in the case of your boyfriend."

"What about interviewing the suspects?" I said.

"We've interviewed everyone-some of them multiple times."

"What about the evidence?" I asked.

Officer Degenhardt leaned back in his chair.

"The tire tracks at the scene? Footprints? Fingerprints? Messages on Colton's phone?" I pressed.

He spoke softer and rolled his chair closer. "There comes a point in an investigation when we have to let it rest until we have new evidence. The murder weapon for example-or a solid confession-we don't have anything that points to any of the people at the party."

I was so angry at this station's incompetence that I let out a laugh when what I really wanted to do was cry or scream. I combed my fingers through my bangs that fell in my face. "Of course, it was someone at the party. I told you, his murderer knew him."

"Listen, maybe they did, maybe they didn't. We have no way of narrowing it down at this point. Everyone at the party has an alibi between 8:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. There were twenty people there."

"You have to believe me."

"It isn't whether I believe you or not, Ehlana. You didn't have a description of the perpetrator or their vehicle."

"It was dark."

"I know, but I have no way of narrowing it down because the tires were bald, so there were no treads, and we don't know what make or model they drove."

"Can't you check to see who has bald tires?"

"We looked. Nobody had bald tires."

I rubbed my hands up and down the armrests.

"As far as footprints," he continued, "they ran on their toes so we only have imprints of what looks like the tip of a man's work boots."

"So that narrows it down, right?"

"No. Will's party was for everyone that worked for Will's Construction, and almost everyone wears Muck Chore high boots."

I choked back a sob.

"As for fingerprints by the driver's side door where the window was smashed, we didn't find any prints other than the ones belonging to the owner of the vehicle, Will, and then there were Colton's and yours."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I can't believe this." I stood up and yelled, "whoever did this is going to get away with it."

He twiddled his thumbs. "We're going to do everything we can to bring justice in this case, Ehlana."

"But only if there is new evidence, or a confession, right?"

He didn't answer.

"Right?" I asked again.

"That's right." He turned to his computer screen. "Now if you wouldn't mind, I have work to do."

I wiped away my tears. I am going to have to do my own investigation if this is ever going to get solved.

***

Monday, October 22, 6 am

The sound of the front door roused me the next morning. It had to be Carl arriving home from his night job as a locksmith. Oh, no! I forgot to check to make sure Mom didn't leave beer cans everywhere. When she did, they would argue and the last thing I needed was to give Carl a good reason to leave. I hurried to peer into the living room. His gaze fell on my mom who was sleeping on the couch with drool on her chin, hungover.

Mom pushed herself up with difficulty. "I was fired," she said, and then burped and patted her chest.

Carl stopped abruptly and ran his hand down his face as if gathering inner strength. "I can't believe this."

Mom nodded, mistaking his words for sympathy. "I know. My boss is such a basic bitch—"

"That's the fourth job you've lost this year." He glared. "Let me guess, you were late again?"

She slumped over. "I wasn't feeling well. My stomach hurt." Her speech was slurred.

Carl lifted an empty beer box from the coffee table and shook it. "Probably because you finished a twenty-four pack of beer in the last twenty four hours."

Inside I was kicking myself for not waking up in the middle of the night to rip up the box into small pieces and slip it into the trash receptacle outside along with the empty cans. Damn it! All these months I had tried to help salvage the best relationship mom had ever had, and now the facade was crumbling.

Mom shook her head. "It couldn't have been that many."

Carl interlaced his fingers and put them behind his neck, laughing in disbelief at the ceiling. "I'm so sick of this."

Mom dropped her head as he plodded to their bedroom. I followed and peeked around the door. He was packing his things.

Tears formed in my eyes. "Please don't leave."

He glanced at me but turned to the dresser to pull out his shirts and pants and tossed them into a suitcase. "Ehlana, don't start with the waterworks. You're a good kid. Losing your boyfriend has been rough on you, but things haven't been working out with me and your mom for a long time. I'm checking out this time."

I had talked him out of leaving a couple of times before. I hoped I could do it again. "But what about Tyler and me?"

Carl wasn't our father, and he wasn't even married to our mom, but with Carl around for the last nine months of our lives we had three meals to eat every day, and someone to take Tyler to his Unified basketball games. For the first time since I could remember I could relax and be the kid while someone took care of me—us.

"The longer I stay, the longer I'm enabling your mom to do what she's doing." He closed the suitcase.

He was really leaving this time. The tears slid down my face. He had finally seen her for what she was, a drain on his wallet and there was no hope of plugging it.

I don't know who was more tired of Mom, Carl or me. Since I could remember, I had been the one looking out for Tyler. While other moms were lathering their children with sun block at the pool, our mom was letting us burn until our skin peeled off and blistered in the blazing summer sun while she was laughing with her friends under an umbrella at the picnic table holding a Margarita. I grew older and wiser, telling people outside I forgot my sun block for Tyler and me and could we use some? People always had a heart for Tyler. In winter Tyler would run out the door for school without a coat on and mom paid no attention. The thing about Tyler was that even when he started to freeze he wouldn't go back to get his coat. He would shiver and cry like he was helpless and if it wasn't for me taking on the role of his mother he would have rolled into a ball and froze to death. I was the one watching out for him, making sure he ate, showered, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. If I didn't, no one would, until Carl. He noticed when Tyler needed help, but I didn't want Carl to get burnt out and leave like mom's former boyfriends, so I continued to play the role of mother. If Carl noticed Tyler put his shirt on inside out, or his shoes on the wrong feet, I jumped in and fixed it. If Mom got drunk I covered for her.

Some people had misconceptions about Tyler's disorder. They thought he was more capable than he actually was. Maybe some people with Downs Syndrome had mild symptoms, but Tyler's disorder was more severe.

Mom became even less capable of taking care of us as we aged. I remember overhearing conversations about an "opportunity" for Tyler to go live in a home with other kids with disabilities one year when mom had been questioned by social services. She seemed interested in the idea until they mentioned that the social security check she got for him would no longer be paid to her if she chose to do this. After that she firmly said he wasn't going to the home. I was relieved. I was also appalled that she would consider sending my brother away. Even though looking after Tyler could be exhausting, I couldn't bear to think about whoever was looking after him might be mean or neglectful. As long as we were under the same roof, I felt secure that I knew he was being taken care of.

"What am I going to do?" I asked Carl.

Carl paused. He clearly pitied me. He reached into his back pocket and pulled a one-hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and placed it in my palm. I backed out of the doorway as he pushed his way through. A mere one hundred would not go far but at least it was something. Money would help, but what about the other things I would miss about him? His sense of humor, the sense of security he gave us, and the fact he was a good listener that didn't judge?

"Carl, Honey, don't leave!" Mom said.

Carl ignored her, grabbed his coat and hat, and was out the door.

From the bathroom I heard Tyler. "Thop it! You want a pieth of me?"  He re-enacts T.V. shows in the mirror, or when he's bored in his room, and sometimes he does it in public places. He was oblivious to what had unfolded between Carl and Mom.

I put the money in my underwear drawer for safe keeping.

I interrupted Tyler acting out a make-believe sword fight. "Time to get your coat on."

I looked back at Mom passed out on the couch hoping she would be out looking for a job when she sobered up later this afternoon.

Tyler and I walked to school which was right across the street from our neighborhood. Tyler licked his chapped lips uncontrollably. I took out a strawberry scented chap stick. "Stop licking your lips. They're going to crack. Here, put this on."

He pressed it hard to his lips and spread it back and forth.

"Ok, that's enough." I held my hand out for it but he turned his back to me and took a bite out of it. "Tyler, stop! That's gross!" I struggled to get it back but it was too late. My only chap stick was ruined. "Look, now we don't have anymore," I scolded, pointing it in his direction. He didn't understand our situation, that things like a two-dollar chap stick would not be possible to get when we had to choose between eating or having moisturized lips.

We made it to school. "Listen to Mrs. Trina," I said as he headed for his class. All of his teachers went by their first names.

"You not da boss a me!" He said, sticking out his lip.

"Yes, I am!"

"No, you not!"

"Yes!"

He rounded the corner out of sight, then peeked around and shouted, "no!" One last time before bolting off.

I was, standing in the hallway with my backpack looking like I was ready for first period when I was anything but.

Throughout the morning classes my ass was in the seat but my mind wasn't. It was at the party taking inventory of who was there. Instead of taking notes I wrote out the names of the people I remembered.

William Eubanks
Erik Beaty
Mateo Munoz
Maddison McNulty
Josiah Cox
Aiden Dietz

The list went on to twenty people, but the top six were the people I knew had seen Colton flash his money. Will was their employer. He only employed ex-convicts or troubled youth that wanted to change their lifestyle and Will gave them the vision to make the world a better place for humanity. Just because they had made bad decisions in the past didn't mean they couldn't change their lifestyle and help others. They built shelters, and rehabilitated or preserved homes in low-income housing areas. Some of the older employees were on work release and sported ankle bracelets. They were giving back

The five younger employees were students at my school. Each had served time in juvie. I didn't know what most of them had done time for. Most of all I didn't know who had wanted Colton dead, but I intended to find out.