Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order. That honor belongs to Dick Wolf. On a side note, I enlisted the help of a beta reader, temway. Thank you. This story would not be half of what it is now without your help.

The following story is fictional and does not depict any actual person or event.

In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate but equally important groups: the police, who investigate crime; and the district attorneys, who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories.

oOoOo

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Oh my God, someone's trying to break into my house!"

"Sir, please calm down. What is your name?"

"Michael… Michael Johnston… God, please send someone!"

"Sir, sir, how old are you?"

"Sixteen." The operator heard the sound of glass breaking. "He's inside, please,
send-" At this point, she heard a scream, and then the phone was silent.

"Sir…? Michael?"

oOoOo

Edward Green turned to Leonard Briscoe as the older man stepped under the crime scene tape. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know how it is, getting a late start, traffic, trying to convince your daughter to spend more than an hour with you on her birthday." They walked into the kitchen, where a woman from the crime scene unit was squatting over the body. "What have we got?" Lennie asked.

"Caucasian male with a gunshot wound to the chest. He bled out." The woman looked down at the body. "He looks to be in his early teens… poor kid." Ed added, "The operator from 911 said his name was Michael Johnston."

Lennie took a moment, lost in thought, before asking, "What else?"

She answered, "Well, it seems like the entire struggle took place right here. One shot to the phone, probably before he was killed. The silverware drawer is open; it looks like the only thing missing is the knife that's by his side. And look up. There's another bullet hole in the ceiling; we retrieved that one. I think it's a 9mm, but it's too beat up to tell. I'd bet the one in our victim is the same." Just then they heard a woman scream. All three looked to the front door, where two cops were trying to keep the woman from breaking through the tape. Lennie shook his head. "I hate this part of the job."

They walked over to the woman, who was in hysterics. "That's my son! Let me inside! I need to get to him!"

Ed tried to pull her away from the door. "Mrs. Johnston, right now we need to ask you some questions." They finally sat her down on a chair on her porch. She put her head in her hands to cover the tears. "Why was your son home today?" Ed asked.

"He said he was feeling sick. I made sure he didn't have any tests or projects due, and he arranged for a friend to pick up his missed work. I never should have let him stay home…"

"How was your son doing in school? Were any kids pushing him around?"

"He wasn't the most popular guy in school, but I find it hard to believe anyone would want to kill him!"

"I'm sorry to ask," Lennie began, "but do you own a gun?"

"No! The worst we have in my home is a set of antique knives Michael got for his birthday. And they are always in a locked case."

"Well, do you have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt you or your family?"

"I sit in front of a computer all day. What, would someone want my job?" she added sarcastically.

"What about your husband?"

"Ex-husband," She corrected. "…Ugh, don't make me think about that man. He's disgusting, but… he wouldn't do this to Michael."

"Do you know where he lives right now?" Ed asked.

"No idea. Bastard hasn't seen his son in months."

Ed simply said, "Alright, this man will take your full statement." He gestured to another cop.

"Detectives!" Another police officer was helping an old woman cross the street. "This woman saw the getaway car."

"Yes, I saw a white car pull out of the driveway just as ER was finishing. It was noon, and I wanted to get a sandwich before Judging Amy."

"Did you hear anything?" Lennie asked.

"I usually have my hearing aid turned down, just high enough to listen to my shows. It's funny, I hate having to listen to the cars whiz up and down this road."

"Is that all you could tell? It was a white car?"

"Please, I can't tell two different models of cars apart. My husband was the auto mechanic. Though I did catch the first two letters of the license plate: IK. I remember because my girlfriend's name is Ilene Kary. Our daughters take us out to breakfast every Saturday."

Lennie gave a short smile. "Thank you. If we have any more questions, we'll let you know."

oOoOo

"I never like cutting up kids."

"So adults are better, Doc?"

Dr. Elizabeth Rodgers just looked at Lennie. "No, it's better if they're old cops." Lennie chuckled. "What have we got?" Ed asked.

"Well, one gunshot, to the right lung. He bled out. There are also some defensive wounds on his hands and arms." The doctor turned and picked up an evidence bag from a counter. "This knife was by his side, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"The knife has two different DNA on it. One from the kid, another unknown. I didn't find any fingerprints, besides the ones from the victim, unfortunately. There's one other thing… gunshot residue. On his hands." Lennie and Ed looked at each other. "Are you sure?" Ed asked.

"Positive. Your victim fired a gun."

oOoOo

"Sixteen." They all heard the sound of glass breaking. "He's inside, please, send-" At this point, there was a scream, and then silence.

"Sir…? Michael?"

"That's the end of the tape," Ed said. "The killer might have shot the phone so the operator couldn't hear anything else. The police were there in ten, fifteen minutes."

Anita Van Buren looked at it thoughtfully. "That doesn't give our shooter very long to kill the kid and escape. How did he get away?"

"Most of the neighbors were at school or work," Ed began. "We talked to an old woman across the street. She had her hearing aid off, but saw a 'white car' speeding away around noon. The call came in at 11:56, so that means the shooter had maybe four minutes."

"What about the gunshot residue?"

"Along with his hands, there was residue on his arms and shirt. It's possible they struggled for the gun and he was shot in the process."

She frowned. "Well, nothing more specific than that on the car?"

"The first two letters on the plate were IK."

"Okay, go check out the kid's school; I'll get someone to look up the license plate."

oOoOo

"Please, sit down. I am… was Michael's homeroom teacher." She sat and the detectives followed suit. "I'm not sure what I can do for you."

"We were just wondering what Michael was like here at the school. Did he ever get into trouble?" Ed began.

"No, nothing major. I heard from some teachers he slacked on his homework from time to time, and he did cut classes, but he was never sent to the principal's office."

"Did he ever get any threats from anyone?"

"No, nothing of the sort. He was well-liked around the school."

"What about friends? Was he a popular kid?"

"He wasn't really one of the popular kids, no, but he had a few close friends. Of course, there was one girl he walked to every one of her classes. It was sweet."

oOoOo

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "We weren't going out. Everyone assumed that because an eleventh grade girl and tenth grade boy hung out, there must be something going on. He was more of a kid brother to me than anything else."

Just then Ed's cell phone rang. As he stepped aside to answer it, Lennie asked, "I'm sure he confided in you. Did he ever have any problems with other students, or even teachers? Someone who might know more about him?"

"Like where he lived? He wasn't friends with everyone, but I can't think of anyone who would want to kill him. Although… he was beaten up by an eleventh grader a few months ago. That jerk is out of town now. Michael acts - acted tough all the time, just to try and make sure it doesn't happen again. I knew him; he was all talk. Michael was a sweet kid."

"What about this eleventh grader? What happened?"

Jennifer frowned. "He was walking home from school. One of the kids got off on his stop ran at him once the bus was gone. He threw Michael on the ground and wrapped his arms around his throat. He 'asked' Michael for his wallet, and of course he gave it to him. I found out later that guy did it on a dare. And before you ask… that's all I knew. I started taking both of us home after that."

Ed hung up the phone and walked over to them. "We got something from the DMV. Thank you for your time."

oOoOo

"Is this guy's name really Jonathan Johnston?" Ed nodded. They got out of the car and walked up to his front door. "There's the white car." Ed noticed as he rang the doorbell. A tall man, about 5'11" with short black hair and a moustache opened the door. "Yes, can I help you?"

Lennie held up his badge. "Jon Johnston?"

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh… wait, this is about Mikey, isn't it? What did that bitch tell you now?"

Ed cocked an eyebrow, and Lennie responded, "Your ex-wife?"

"Yeah, Maggie. She blamed it all on me, didn't she?"

"Why would you say that?" Ed asked.

"Well, our divorce didn't exactly go smoothly." Just then, they heard another voice from a different room. "Honey, who is it?" A second man came to the door. He was shorter, but had a stronger build and was clean-shaven. Jonathan turned to him. "It's just the cops. They have a few questions about Mikey."

"Oh, it's so sad. The first I heard about it was on the news…"

"And you're Jonathan's…?" Ed's voice trailed off.

"Life partner? Yup." He nodded happily. "My name's George."

"Detectives, do you have any more questions?" Jon asked impatiently.

"Yeah, one last thing: where were both of you around noon yesterday?"

"What, you think I killed my own son?"

"Jonny, sweetie, they just need to cover their bases. I'm unemployed right now, and Jonny's a manager at Wal-Mart."

"I was there all day. 7:00 to 5:00. Is that it?"

"Yes, thank you for your time," Lennie said as Ed closed his notebook and put it and the pen in his pocket.

"Detectives." They turned to Jonathan. "When you find the guy, let me do the interrogation." As they got in the car, Lennie commented, "There are cases I wish I could take the parents up on their offer."

oOoOo

Ed and Lennie walked into the Wal-Mart. As usual, it was busy, with customers and workers going in every different direction. They finally found a manager. "Mr. Gordon?"

"Yes, how may I help you?"

"We just have a few questions about Jonathan Johnston."

"His son, Michael, right? That's so sad."

"Jon was working yesterday?"

"Yes. Jon doesn't really have a set schedule, but he puts in his forty hours, and sometimes overtime."

"What was Jon's schedule?"

"He came in at seven in the morning, and his shift ended at five."

"And he was here the whole day?"

"Yup. Never even steps out for a smoke break with some of us. And he only takes forty-five minutes for lunch instead of the hour."

"When did he take his break yesterday?"

"11:45. Sure enough, he was back by 12:30."

oOoOo

Lennie practically threw Jonathan into the chair in the interrogation room. "You lied to us, Jonny."

"What the hell are you talking about? I was at work all day! I'm sure you asked my co-workers!"

"All day except that time you took for lunch. Right at the time when Michael was murdered!"

"Looks like you get to be in the interrogation with our suspect after all," Ed added.

"How can you think I killed Michael? That's sick! He's my own son! What kind of motive would I have?"

"We have a witness that saw you at the house at the time of the murder!" Lennie snapped back.

Jonathan paused. "Look, let me explain that. I found out that he was feeling sick, and I wanted to check on him."

"So, just like that. Out of the blue?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, out of the blue," Jonathan angrily replied. "And when I got to the house, there was a motorcycle in the driveway. I figured someone was with him, so I didn't want to bother them. The license plate was too small; I couldn't make out the letters."

"Oh, yeah. And what color was the motorcycle?"

"It was black, green flames on the side. I figured Maggie had a new boyfriend or something. Look, I loved my son! There's no way I would hurt him!"

"You know what Lennie, he's right. There is one way to clear all this up."

"Yeah, it'll be easy."

"What? I'll do whatever it takes."

"Then you wouldn't mind giving us a sample of your DNA."

Jonathan rolled up his sleeve. "Fine. Take as much as you need."

oOoOo

The two detectives walked into Anita's office, closing the door behind them. "Well?" she asked.

"The DNA wasn't a match. Which means we've run out of leads," Ed answered.

"It's sad. If he had taken the time to walk into the house, he could have saved his kid," said Lennie.

"Or we would have another victim." Anita cut in. "Well, go back to the school and start asking around. There has to be something there we missed."

Lennie sighed. "Great. Needle in a haystack."

Just then Anita's phone rang. She picked it up. "Yes? Hang on a minute guys… okay, they'll be right over." She hung up the phone. "Ballistics wants you."

oOoOo

"I was wondering why we hadn't been called earlier," Lennie said.

"There wasn't anything to report earlier. The bullet that killed him was a 9mm. The other ones were too disfigured to match to anything. Then we got this." The technician held up a casing.

"Then? Did you have to go back?"

"Actually, the mother found it in her trash can." Ed raised an eyebrow. "Apparently, the killer buried it in her trash. She went to take out the garbage and the bag broke. She found it cleaning up.

"Anyway," the tech continued, "The casing is from a 9mm. I found a print and decided to go ahead and check the database." He tapped some buttons on his computer and a screen came up. It had a picture of the fingerprint and the man it belonged to. "Peter Franklin. He was arrested at the age of nineteen for armed robbery. Apparently he and a couple of friends decided to hold up jewelry store. Since it was his first offense and he agreed to testify against the others, he got probation and community service."

"Someone was feeling generous," Ed commented. "Is there a current address?"

oOoOo

"303… 302… 301, here it is." Ed knocked on the door. After a moment, the door opened just a bit. "What?"

"Peter Franklin?"

"Who's asking?"

"The police." Peter turned and started running. Ed kicked in the door in time to see him turn the corner. He chased after him. Just before he could climb through a window, Ed grabbed Peter and threw him onto a bed. "Why did you run?"

"I…I wasn't running. I was going to turn off the faucet. You guys chased me!"

"Hey, don't worry, I'll do it for you." Ed handcuffed Peter while Lennie went into the bathroom. The sound of running water faded. Ed noticed a ring on Peter's finger. "That's a nice ring. Where'd you get it?"

"My ex-girlfriend gave it to me."

"Hey Ed." Lennie walked out, holding a gun. "9mm."

"You know, that brand of toilet paper is a bit rough." Ed pushed Peter out the door.

oOoOo

Ed closed the door behind Ms. Johnston. "Thank you for coming in."

"Of course. What do you need?"

He pulled out a ring and showed it to her. "We found this on our suspect. Do you recognize it?"

Ms. Johnston gasped. "Th-That's my wedding ring! When can I get it back?"

Ed nodded. "As soon as we finish our investigation."

oOoOo

Lennie sat in a chair next to Peter. "That's a pretty nasty cut, there," he said, referring to Peter's arm. It was bandaged up.

"It was a motorbike accident."

"Sure. And where'd you get the gun?"

"A pawn shop. I forget the name. I got the permit at home."

"Look, ballistics has the gun right now. They're comparing it to the bullet we found."

Peter leaned back in his chair. "Found where?"

"Inside of the boy you murdered in his own home!"

"I never been there."

"Funny, how I haven't told you where it is."

Just then, Ed opened the door. "Bad news, Peter. Your 'ex-girlfriend's' ring has been identified. It belongs to the victim's mother. Want to talk now?"

"… I ain't telling you a thing. I want a lawyer."

"Oh, come on, Pete. A lawyer comes in, and we can't help you."

"Shove your help. I'm not saying another word."

"Okay, have it your way." Peter didn't respond, so Lennie and Ed got up and walked out of the interrogation room. Anita was on the other side. "You'd think with the evidence, he'd jump at the chance to confess," Lennie said.

"If only it was that easy," she replied. The door opened and a woman walked in holding a piece of paper. She gave it to Anita and left. "Thank you…. well, we won't need his confession after all. His gun matches the one used to kill Michael Johnston. Arrest him."

Peter looked up as Lennie opened the door. "I told you, I want a lawyer!"

"You're going to need one," Anita replied. "Peter Franklin, you're under arrest for the murder of Michael Johnston. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney…"