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some links to television news stories the three major Boston stations had done on Lonnie’s murder. Joel hit each link, listened to the reports showing Lonnie’s apartment building, as he’d been killed only a block from his home; the crime scene; and more stock photos of Lonnie. Several featured brief interviews with local detectives working the case, as well as interviews with Katelyn speaking about justice for her father’s murder. But there wasn’t anything new in the reports, or much of anything he could use. Everyone seemed perplexed by what in the end seemed little more than a senseless crime of violence. Just the same, he grabbed a pad and pen from his middle desk drawer and jotted down the names of the detectives and the reporters and their station affiliations, then did the same with those who had penned the newspaper and online stories.
    Only one file remained, a JPEG. Joel double-clicked it and an old photograph appeared on his monitor screen. He recognized it immediately.
    Taken in 1982, the year after they’d all graduated high school, it showed Joel with Lonnie and the rest of their circle of friends: Sal Valano, Trent Pierce and Dorsey Hill. They stood side by side near a stone jetty at the beach, laughing and mugging for the camera, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. He and Lonnie with their long hair, Sal with his mullet, Trent with his Mohawk and Dorsey with what they all affectionately referred to as his “big-ass ’fro”.
    Happy. Young. Carefree. Yet there was something else there too, just beneath the surface. Something dark that tied them all together, bound them, forever. And when Joel looked hard enough, he could still see it.
    My God , Joel thought, look at us.
    He remembered the day it was taken. Dorsey’s girlfriend at the time had snapped it just as Sal had made one of his typical wisecracks. Joel stared at the photo, letting the memories wash over him. He could almost hear their laughter.
    Clearly the photograph was one Katelyn had found among her father’s things, and had been included on the disk for the sole purpose of playing Joel’s heartstrings. And it was working. If something like this didn’t elicit the emotions needed to convince him to help her, then nothing would.
    â€œKid’s good,” he muttered.
    Joel’s eyes came to rest on Lonnie. None of them—least of all Lonnie—had any idea what was waiting for them out in the world. He thought about it a moment, did the math. They were all nineteen in the photograph, which meant that when it was taken, Lonnie had thirty-one years to live. Sounded like a long time, but it really wasn’t. Most of it had come and gone in what felt like the blink of an eye.
    Gone. So many years just…gone.
    Hey, what are you gonna do? Lonnie’s favorite expression; he could almost hear him saying it across all these years.
    You’re gonna die in the street, that’s what you’re gonna do.
    Joel clicked closed the photograph, spun his chair away and forced himself to his feet, wanting—needing—to get away from it. His emotions were getting the better of him, replaying a conversation he’d had with Lonnie a few months before that photograph was taken. Joel’s girlfriend and high school sweetheart had dumped him, and Lonnie, even more than the other guys, was right there to let him know everything would be all right.
    What are you gonna do? The hell with her, bro, plenty of babes out there. You’ll meet somebody else, somebody better, and before you know it you won’t even remember that bitch’s name.
    What they hadn’t realized was that in an even shorter span of time their lives would lead them in different directions, and they’d no longer play the integral parts in each other’s day-to-day existences they’d all been so sure they would. Everything was about to change, and nothing would ever be the same again.
    Time