KANSAS CITY, Kan. _ Emilio Lopez's friends didn't even hear the gunshot.
Lopez had stepped out of a friend's home before 7:30 p.m. Jan. 24 in Kansas City, Kan., when people he knew drove up. His friends stayed inside playing Xbox. Minutes later, one shouted that Lopez, 18, wasn't moving. They called paramedics.
"God, please do not take him," one of his closest friends, David Ortiz, 19, thought. "Please. It's not his time."
A dedicated friend and basketball lover, Lopez was among 23 people to fall victim to homicide so far this year across the metro area.
Of them, 17 were killed in Kansas City, marking the most slayings in a January in at least the last decade. That came on the heels of one of the city's deadliest years on record, with 151 homicides in 2019, according to data kept by The Star.
Among the slain this year was 25-year-old Raeven Parks, who was killed in a Jan. 19 mass shooting when a man opened fire on a line of people waiting to get into the 9ine Ultra Lounge. The shooter himself was killed by a security guard. Fifteen other people were wounded.
"Obviously we are frustrated with a violent beginning to 2020," said Sgt. Jacob Becchina, a spokesman for the Kansas City Police Department. "A homicide problem can happen in any month and that is why we are working tirelessly."
Forty-five people had been shot and survived this year as of Jan. 26 in Kansas City, according to the most recent available data. By that time last year, 31 people had suffered nonfatal gunshot wounds.
The wounded this year have included a 5-month-old baby who was shot in the leg and a 10-year-old girl who was shot in the chest.
The only homicide victim not shot in Kansas City was a 61-year-old woman who was beaten to death with an aluminum baseball bat. Her nephew was charged with second-degree murder.
Days after Lopez was killed, his friends pointed to where he died outside Ortiz's front door in Kansas City, Kan.
When they found him, friends initially assumed Lopez had been stabbed. He gasped for air, they recalled. It wasn't until Ortiz's father saw the bullet's exit wound that they realized he had been shot, much like 90% of the region's homicide victims.
His blood stains the concrete.
"It doesn't make any sense," said Ortiz's sister, Valerie Ortiz, 17. "Like, why?"
There was no specific pattern or trend that police said was associated with the high number of killings at the start of the year. Guns seemed to be the solution to many of the perpetrators' problems, Becchina said.
"Like so many times, though, it stems from disagreements, arguments and poor conflict resolution," he said. "People make a decision to get a gun and solve a conflict as opposed to talking it out or even a physical altercation."
Of the killings, police believe two stemmed from arguments and three were thought to be tied to drugs. Another nine were listed in police records as having an unknown motive as of Thursday.
The killing of Georgia Petsch was tied to domestic violence. She was shot and killed by her husband, Brandon Petsch, at their home in the 300 block of West 98th Street, according to police. Prosecutors have charged him with second-degree murder.
Petsch was passionate about her work as an outreach volunteer for the Rescue Project, an agency that serves neglected and abused animals. In that role, she frequently helped stray pets, said Andrea Knobbe, the group's outreach director.
Before Petsch was killed, people who worked with her noticed she began to distance herself from them. It wasn't until police found her body rolled up in a rug that they learned why.
Knobbe remained in disbelief.
"She will never help another disabled person; she will never see her parents; and she will never see her brother," Knobbe said. "She will never go to dinner; she will never read a book; she will never go on an outreach."
More than two weeks later, Lavance Ellis, 48, was found fatally shot at a car wash near 44th Street and Prospect Avenue. Police responded to a nonfatal shooting at the same time just three blocks away. They were not related.
Standing at that homicide scene, Becchina noted that the police department recently added eight detectives to its homicide unit and doubled the number of positions available on its squad tasked with investigating nonfatal shootings. Police and other agencies have also begun conducting meetings during which investigators review each shooting in the last week.
The staffing changes have resulted in criminal charges in some of the killings, Becchina said Tuesday. As of Wednesday, police considered seven of this year's homicides cleared or solved, while eight investigations remained open.
"We obviously would like to have had no homicides to charge," Becchina said.
Homicides can come clusters at times, which may be what the Kansas City region is experiencing now, said Ken Novak, a professor of criminology and criminal justice at the University of Missouri-Kansas City. It's not uncommon for the city to have months where killings peak between 15 to 20, he said.
Novak noted that January was probably indicative of the larger culture of gun violence in Kansas City and reflects the comfort many residents feel with carrying and using handguns. Many homicides are retaliatory in nature or stem from previous violence, he said.
"Kansas City's homicide rate has been trending up for years, so flare-ups like this might be expected," Novak said. "Gun violence begets more gun violence. It's a vicious cycle."
By the end of January last year, police had responded to 12 killings across the region, nine of which occurred in Kansas City.
Other cities across the metro also recorded slightly more homicides in January than last year.
Lopez was among three people fatally shot in Kansas City, Kan. There had been one by this time in 2019, a year that ended with 37. There were also three in January of 2018, which ended with 33.
In Overland Park, police have investigated two killings this year. There had been three in all of 2019 and four in all of 2018, including a teenager who was fatally shot by a police officer.
The recent uptick in gun violence has kept community organizations such as the AdHoc Group Against Crime busy. The nonprofit agency has worked with police and prosecutors to provide counseling, intervention services and assistance to shooting victims.
But too many unsolved shootings and slayings have left victims with little faith in the criminal justice system, said AdHoc's president, Damon Daniel.
"Either people are simply not cooperating with police investigations, because there is a lack of trust or there is no protection if they do, or they do not want to be labeled a snitch," Daniel said. "Those factors contribute to retaliation."
That lack of trust was apparent during one January investigation.
As Kansas City officers investigated a killing on Benton Boulevard, they learned a woman who lived nearby had a surveillance video system. But she refused to let investigators review the footage, saying she would let a family member see it "so they could obtain their own justice," a detective wrote in a search warrant.
Far too many people lack conflict resolution skills, Daniel said. Others have poor parental involvement or lack positive role models, which can reduce a person's ability to cope with trauma or overcome hardships, he said. Therefore, he said, providers have to be more creative when reaching people who have negative views about mental health services.
At the same time, schools are challenged with disciplining kids rather than educating them, Daniel said. Schools need additional community partners to offer services like mentoring and cognitive behavioral intervention, he said.
Throughout the month, relatives of the slain released balloons and set up fundraisers. By late January, the possessions of a 36-year-old woman who was gunned down at a house in the 2400 block of Kensington Avenue had been moved to the curb.
Crime scene tape was still roped around a nearby tree weeks later. By then, another woman had come to look at the house to possibly rent it.
As for Lopez's friends in Kansas City, Kan., they said they will remember him for his distinct smile. They fondly recalled how he would make them laugh by trying to speak Spanish. He couldn't roll his Rs.
One of his friends, Jacquez Ford, 21, said Lopez was a huge fan of basketball star Kobe Bryant. It was bizarre, he said, that Lopez died days before his idol. Lopez used to try to mimic Byrant's fadeaway jump shot.
Lopez's friends found a shell casing in their yard after the shooting; they placed a green toy bullet next to it, so they know where it is. They now feel as if they are waiting for Lopez to walk through their front door. They feel lonely.
"There's an emptiness in this house without him," David Ortiz said.