While I will still be writing about Shannon's case as new information becomes available to me, I feel the time has come for me to explore and share another case that I've followed closely for several years. It's an extremely important case, one that has spawned a new law in the State of Illinois, both extending the statute of limitations for wrongful death cases and increasing the fines for public bodies who refuse to comply with the Freedom of Information Act. The case in question is close to my heart for personal reasons, and though I'm heartbroken over the circumstances, I am also honored to be able to share such an important story with you, dear reader.

In high school, I had a friend named Kim. Anything I could try to write about her here just wouldn't do her justice. But I suppose that's the problem with memory — you can never accurately describe the glow it casts around your loved ones. Kim was one of the kindest people I've ever met. She was also one of the most perpetually happy. She was never without her infectious, dimpled smile. Kim and I worked at a daycare together, and she was truly in her element there. She adored children and there wasn't a child there that didn't feel the same about Kim. She was everyone's cheerleader, always providing a positive outlook when one was needed. I didn't think there was anything she couldn't do. I can't recognize or explain exactly when things changed, but they did.

Kim fell for the wrong man, as so many women have been known to do, myself included. He was a drug dealer and an addict. He cheated on her and verbally abused her — something he's admitted to, to multiple people. On February 14th, 2012, after a disagreement about suspicious text messages on his phone, he screamed in her face and ripped her promise ring off her finger. Not long after, she was dead. He claimed it was suicide. She had loaded a gun and shot herself, despite the fact that she wasn't familiar with firearms. Despite the fact that she had always been adamantly and vocally against suicide and self-harm. Despite the fact that she had made concrete plans for her immediate future. Despite the fact that he admitted that he called his father before ever calling 911. Despite the fact that he had made inconsistent and contradictory statements to various people. Tulsa PD refused to investigate; they called it an "open-and-shut case." But so many of her family and friends felt — and still feel — that justice was not served.

A little over a month later, in Southern Illinois, Molly Marie Young was lured to her ex-boyfriend's apartment. Richie Minton, who was a police dispatcher for the Carbondale PD, texted her at 3:00 am saying, "Help me." Sometime between 4:00 am and 5:00 am that morning, Molly was killed — shot in the head with a gun that she did not know how to load or operate, with her non-dominant hand, at a nearly impossible trajectory. Minton insisted Molly must have killed herself, despite the fact that he didn't have his roommate call 911 until 9:00 am — and when they did finally call, they reported Molly's death as a drug overdose. The Carbondale Police probably would have been happy to call this an open-and-shut case, but they weren't as lucky as Tulsa PD.

This is because Molly's father, Larry Young, has proven to be a worthy and most fearsome adversary.

I stumbled across Molly's story entirely by accident, several months after Kim's death, while doing research on a separate case. I read her story with tears streaming down my face, reliving what happened to Kim all over again. I joined Justice for Molly immediately and was an active part of the group's online presence for a time. After a year or so, I fell out of touch with the members as I became more involved in Shannon's case and my advocacy work for other inmates. It wasn't until "Molly's Law" was signed this July that I found myself drawn into the case once more. Despite the still-growing popularity of Justice for Molly and the successful passing of this new bill — the Carbondale Police Department has still refused to cooperate and has yet to complete any sort of thorough investigation into Molly's death. This case is another example of blatant police corruption and nepotism at work--something I've sadly become all too familiar with over the last few years. I felt compelled to investigate Molly's story further, and to try and share it with as many people as I possibly could. I reached out to Larry Young and was excited and honored to receive a prompt reply. With his guidance and cooperation, in the coming weeks, I will be delving into Molly's case just as I have Shannon's.

In this new series, I will give you a basic timeline of events, and describe the intricacies of the crime scene. We'll examine the backgrounds of both Molly Young and Richie Minton. We'll go over the evidence with a fine-tooth comb, and dissect the opinions of experienced independent analysts. We'll expose police corruption and seek out solutions to questions that have been left unanswered for far too long. At the end of our time together, I hope you will see — as you hopefully did with Shannon's case — that justice was not served. Justice cannot be served as long as law enforcement continues to protect and serve their own first. I hope that you'll be sure to join me next week for Part 1 of The End of the Rainbow, and that you'll check back periodically for updates on Shannon's case.

If you have any questions or comments, or you think you can help with either the Agofsky case or the Young case, please contact me at theblackswanbooks@outlook.com.