There were policemen running through my home.  Looking in doors, peeking in rooms, going through Corey’s personal items… “looking for clues” as to what happened that night.

I was at the dining room table talking to the detective and I could see Justin nervously trying to answer all of their questions all at the same time.  He’s not good in a crowd, imagine what he’s like when the entire crowd was focused on him!

“So you say Corey came in through the back door.  Why would he have done that when help would have been easier to find downstairs?”

“Because the back door is easier to get to, it was unlocked, Justin would be awake, and there were fewer steps to try to get up.  Also, it’s the rule here that if they are out at night they use the back door.”… all while he’s listening to the EMT’s trying to decide if they should take Corey down our long, tight, stairway (which we lovingly call the stairs of doom) or out the back door.

I call out, “The back door is wider, there’s only three steps, and as long as you have a light, it’s the safest way to go!”

I watched as they carried my greying son out the back door on a gurney.

By then, the officers had found Corey’s drawstring back pack.  They found his cell phone which told them who he spoke to last, his jack knife, and a receipt from QT placing him there shortly after midnight.  They also found a folded metal clothes hanger which they found to be “suspicious” for him to have.

One officer went to work calling the last person he spoke to, just to get any information she might have.  One took the jack knife to see if there was any evidence of DNA or blood.  One brought the hanger to the detective.  He said, “Here, let me hold on to that for a minute.”

Shortly after, an officer walked by.  He stated, “we had to run code on the way to the hospital.”

I asked what that meant, even though I was raised by a cop and knew.  The officer said, “It just means we had to use the siren and lights.”

Lie #1. It meant Corey had died on the way to the hospital. (For Corey, this was only the second time he died… there would be 5 times.)

The officer asked if I had a current picture of Corey.  I showed him one, and he pushed the hanger away.  He looked at the other officer and said, “Never mind.  I gave him that hanger.  He was at the mall earlier tonight and locked himself out.  He asked me if I had a hanger to help him get his door open…” (he was doing security at the Independence Center) “… and I gave him this.”

About that time, the detective with Corey’s knife came upstairs and said, “There’s nothing on this.  No DNA, no Blood, nothing.” He put it back in Corey’s bag.

By then, I asked if I could PLEASE go to the hospital to be with my son.  They finally cleared me to leave, but they stayed back and continued to search my home…

… stay tuned …