A Murder Suspect....Again

I guess I have to go backwards here. There was one last series of events which also had a lot to do with my pain, my rage, and the relief heroin gave me from it. After coming back from Detroit, and while I was rehearsing the new band, I was visiting with Carol, who I had broken up with a few months earlier, but who was still someone I cared about. She had knocked on my door, a few days earlier, and informed me that she was pregnant...and that I was the father...and she just wanted to inform me that she was going to have the baby. I was very upset with her. She had gotten pregnant three other times during the two-year period I had been involved with her. She had already had three abortions. And she worked full-time at Planned Parenthood, advising people for eight hours a day on how to avoid pregnancy. In the last ten months I had been with her, we had only slept together twice, because I didn't trust her anymore. The last time had been two months before we had broken up, and now two months after the breakup, she was back...with yet another "accidental" pregnancy. I had thought our relationship was long over...and now she dropped this new bomb on me.  I just didn't believe I was the father, this time. I was sure she was trying to trap me into a marriage I was unequipped for, and wasn't interested in. So I was in her apartment one day, talking with her, trying to get her to see the senslessness of her choice to have the baby...when there was a knock at the door. It was the State Police. They were looking for me. They asked if I would be willing to talk with them at the Barracks. I thought they had found my Mom's killer, so I left with them. When we got there, they sat me down and told me they were talking to me there because they had some bad news, and they didn't want Carol to hear it that way. I was then told that her brother, the nasty guy I had told the cops about when I had been "cleared" in my Mom's death, had just been found dead, on the West Coast...shot ten times. He had been dead for about two weeks before being found. They wanted to know where I had been at that time. I told them I had been here, rehearsing my band and asked why. They told me that they believed there were two possibilities. Either I had decided to seek revenge on this guy for killing my Mom and had him killed, or more likely, that we had been doing a heroin deal back in June that my Mom had accidentally walked in on, and to silence her, we had both killed her, and since this guy was the only other person who knew the "truth", I had to "tie up all the loose ends" by having him killed. At this time...and when my Mom was killed, too...I had never even tried heroin yet.  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All the alibi witnesses, the polygrapgh results, all of it meant nothing. I was still a suspect in my Mom's death, and now I was the prime suspect in another one too. So now, they thought I was a serial killer. I was furious. I told them that they watched too much TV. I told them that if they were going to try to hang me for something I hadn't done, I wasn't going to help them do it. And I got up and walked out. But it felt like I was the star of a Hitchcock movie...and the pain was very fresh, and unbearable. Add to that the imminent demise of the new band, and the new problem of feeling manipulated into imminent fatherhood...and you have agony, confusion, and chaos...