On Sunday, March 30th Andy and I decided to perform another drug test. We both entered Tim's room and he adamantly refused to take the urine test, stating that he wanted one more day. I remember Tim saying things like, "I hate you. You lied to me. You said you would do the test on Monday. I'm going to kill you." Based on Tim's lack of cooperation, Andy started looking around the room. He opened Tim's top desk drawer and found a thick wad of tissue. When he unraveled it all, he revealed a bullet. This was a complete shock. We had suspected Andy might find drugs, but a bullet? When questioned, Tim replied, "I got it from a friend and just decided to keep it." Andy was furious, and I was worried sick. Andy yelled, "Where did you get this? What are you planning to do with it?" Tim said, "Nothing, I just wanted to keep it." I was crying and yelling, "We love you. We want you to live. We want you to be happy." Tim had been lying in his bed. I remember that I next chose to lie on top of him, hugging him, trying to let the feelings penetrate him. But there was no response from Tim: no hugs, no words, no emotions.
To this day we have never found a gun, but God only knows why he had the bullet. We insisted on the drug test, and it showed positive again for opiates, which caused us to believe he snuck in at least one dose after the psychiatrist appointment. We had also heard a bunch of change clanking in Tim's pocket. When he emptied his pocket, it was a large quantity of quarters. He said he found a roll of quarters outside of the local convenience store and had emptied them into his pocket. At the time I had no idea where the quarters came from. But about a month or so after Tim's death, I realized that my state quarter collection was missing from where it was stored. I don't know for sure, but I believe the quarters in Tim's pocket on March 30th must have been my state quarters. Where else would they have gone? Thinking about those quarters is another "recurring stab" for me.