Trying me best (not to forget) Brian picked at his chicken salad. He didn’t feel very hungry as he found himself staring at Justin’s cell phone still sitting on his desk. Why hadn’t Justin come looking for it? Why hadn’t he called anyone to tell them that it was lost? He had to realize that it was gone. Justin never left anywhere without his phone. An excited knock at the door pulls Brian out his thoughts as Cynthia pops her head in, a gloating smile on her face, “Guess what?” she asks, her excitement evident as she tries to stifle a laugh. Brian sighs, “Enlighten me.” Her grin widens, “Carter Hoff’s car was stolen in the garage this morning.” “Who’d want that piece of shit?” he snorts, trying not to smile because he couldn’t stand that asshole. She laughs openly, “No idea, but the thief was in a rush… sped right through the parking bar.” Brian succumbs to a smile, “Well that was intelligent. Is Carter crying in a corner somewhere?” Cynthia continues to laugh, “I’ll let you know,” and closes the door. Brian stares at the closed door for a moment. He had a strange feeling. He couldn’t describe it. But it had something to do with Justin. Frowning, he turns his attention back to the blonde’s phone. Where the fuck could he be? The intercom buzzes on and Cynthia’s voice echoes through Brian’s office. “Yeah?” He answers, knowing it had to be Carl. “A Detective Hovarth is here to see you.” “Send him in,” Brian replies. Leaning back against his chair he wonders what this is all about. Seconds later, Carl enters, “Hey, Brian, how are you?” Brian nods, “Since last week when I saw you at Deb’s for dinner: Fine. You?” He returns the nod and then clears his throat. “I was hoping to talk to Justin.” “He’s not here.” Brian decides that if Carl isn’t going to share, neither is he. “Do you know where he might be?” Carl asks, sitting down. Brian shrugs, “Numerous places come to mind. Why?” He clears his throat again. “When did you last see him?” “Earlier this morning.” “Meaning?” Carl asks, he’s trying to stay patient, but it’s obvious to Brian that he’s feeling rushed for time. “It was around eleven this morning.” Brian answers. “Do you want some coffee? I can call Cynthia in.” “No, no I’m, fine, thanks.” Carl replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Brian frowns. That sinking feeling had returned in his gut. “Why are you looking for him, Carl?” Carl stares down at his shoes, deep in thought, and Brian wonders if he was heard. Finally Carl looks up, “His mom was found dead this morning…her boyfriend found her.” It was as if the air in the room had suddenly been taken away. Grabbing the end of his desk, Brian tries to stay grounded. What the fuck? What the fuck? This was not what he had expected to hear. This was not what he had thought Carl would tell him. Not in a million years. “Shit,” is all he can say. Carl nods. “She was shot, Brian. In the head. Her boyfriend found her. She had a phone in her hand. The last person she had spoken to was Justin.” Brian slowly nods, trying to regain his composure. Not Jennifer. God, not Jennifer. “Brian,” Carl begins, “I need to know where I can find Justin.” He looks up at the older man now standing in front of his desk. “He…he left his cell phone,” Brian gestures to the phone on his desk. “I found it in the stairwell.” Shit, Carter’s car… could it be? Could Justin have stolen Carter’s car in an effort to save his mother from… from? “Who do you think did this?” Craig? Could Craig do something so fuckin’ sick and twisted as kill the mother of his children? Carl shakes his head, “We’re working on it. Someone was heading over to St. James Academy to talk to Molly Taylor. We’re still looking for Craig Taylor. He needs to know… for Molly…” “Do you think he’s a suspect?” If he is, that’s where Justin is. “I can’t say, Brian.” “You can’t, or you won’t?” Brian asks, feeling the tension sink down his neck and spine. Carl takes Justin’s phone. “Does Justin still talk to you since you guys broke up?” Brian stares at him, emotionless. “I’m assuming so, since he’s working here and all,” Carl continues without missing a beat. “Has he said anything to you about his mother?” “No.” And suddenly that sinking feeling has reached his heart as he remembers the last conversation they had. Fuck. And he tried to remember a conversation they must have had before that… anything. Something light and positive…. But nothing came to mind. He had been avoiding Justin like the plague because it just hurt to fuckin’ much. Coward. Fuckin’ coward. He wanted to kick himself. If he hadn’t been such an ass, Justin would have felt comfortable coming to him…right? Carl nods, “Do you have any idea where he might be?” Before Brian can answer, Carl’s cell phone goes off. “Excuse me a moment, Brian,” he states as he answers it, “Detective Hovarth here…. What?... Wait, when did---… what exactly did she say?.... what else?.... You’re shitting me. … No. And where is he?....is this some sort of-- …Fuck…. Yeah, I heard you….I’ll call you back.” Brian bites the inside of his cheek as Carl hangs up the phone. “Carl?” Carl stares at his phone for a minute, “Justin picked Molly up from school at twelve o’clock this afternoon. He told them his parents were involved in a car accident and he needed to take Molly to the hospital with him.” Brian is silent, absorbing the information, and then it suddenly hits him, “Both parents?” Carl is still silent, his lips tight and his brows furrowed even tighter. “Carl, where is Craig?” Brian asks, though he’s pretty sure he now knows the answer. “Craig Taylor was shot in the head earlier this morning. His secretary found him in his office. The last call he made was to his ex-wife, Jennifer Taylor.” Brian’s mouth falls open. This couldn’t be happening. Carl finally looks up at him, “Craig and Jennifer Taylor are dead.”