ELKHART — April Sparks was waiting in line to pre-pay for gas at a 7-Eleven store when she overheard a conversation she didn't want to hear.
"They don't deserve that," the cashier said.
"They should spend their lives in prison," the customer in front of her said.
Sparks knew exactly whom they were talking about. The small community 160 miles north of Indianapolis seemed split on the fates of four teenagers catapulted into unwanted fame because of one stupid mistake. One of them was her son.
Sparks left, quietly, and went elsewhere to buy gas.
Her son's life changed forever on the afternoon of Oct. 3, 2012, when he and four friends broke into a house, hoping to steal some money.
They thought the house was empty. None of the teens expected an armed homeowner to be inside. None of them was armed. None foresaw a shooting. But the homeowner, who was sleeping upstairs, did rush downstairs and did fire a handgun — killing one of the teens.
And all four of the surviving teens were charged and convicted for the death. Levi Sparks, now 20; Jose Quiroz Jr., 19; Blake Layman, 18; and Anthony Sharp Jr., 20, are each serving a five-decade sentence in the Indiana Department of Correction.
They may not have pulled the trigger. But, as far as the law is concerned, the rash decision to try to score some cash turned them into murderers.
The story of the Elkhart Four — as they have come to be known — brings attention to a decades-old controversial and highly criticized, but widely used, doctrine of criminal law.
Under Indiana's felony murder statute, a person can be charged with murder if someone is killed while he or she is committing or attempting to commit another crime. That crime could be arson, burglary, robbery, carjacking, human trafficking, sexual trafficking, or sex and drug crimes — acts that the law considers inherently dangerous.
Felony murder carries the same penalty as murder, but unlike a murder charge, in which intent to kill must be proven, a person can be convicted of felony murder even if the death is accidental or unintended.
Supporters say it's a useful statute, a crime deterrent and a safeguard in the criminal justice system that holds people accountable for committing dangerous acts that result in someone's death.
"We don't really want people dying and sort of shrugging our shoulders and say, 'Oh well,'" said Elkhart County Prosecutor Curtis Hill, who charged the Elkhart Four. "Part of our justice system is to bring closure and completeness in terms of what happened, why it happened and what ought to be done."
Critics say the statute, used widely in much of the country, goes against a basic principle of criminal law: culpability.
"It's one thing to say you commit a robbery or a theft. You're not saying the person is a completely innocent person," said Timothy O'Neill, a law professor at John Marshall Law School in Chicago. "Blameworthiness for theft doesn't necessarily turn a person into a murderer. There's a disconnect."
As that debate played out in Elkhart, Quiroz pleaded guilty to felony murder and was sentenced to 55 years in prison, with 10 years suspended to probation. Sparks, Layman and Sharp were convicted by a jury. All but Quiroz asked the Court of Appeals to overturn their convictions. The appeals court denied that request, but reduced their sentences.
Their fate now depends on the state's highest court. In February the defendants asked the Indiana Supreme Court to rule on their appeal. The justices have yet to issue a ruling.
They hid in the closet: 'Sorry, sorry'
Sitting in a small conference room at Wabash Valley Correctional Facility, dressed in matching light brown polos, pants and white sneakers, Levi Sparks and Blake Layman recounted that fall afternoon.
It was around 2 p.m. They attended an alternative school, which let out early, and they were hanging out at Quiroz's front porch. They discussed ways to get some quick cash to buy weed. Breaking into a home seemed like a good idea. So they began looking for an empty house.
Sparks knocked on the first home; dogs started barking. The second house wasn't empty either. But the third one, a two-story wooden home with red bricks and white door frame on Frances Avenue, appeared to be empty.
The man living there usually parked his truck in the driveway. That day, Sparks said, the truck wasn't there. They thought he was probably at work.
"... it was a clear sign to be able to just go in, do what we need to do," Sparks told The Indianapolis Star, "and nothing bad could come out of it."
What unfolded next is detailed in court documents.
They banged on the front door. No answer.
Sparks stayed across the street with a cell phone in case the police came. Quiroz, Layman, Sharp and 21-year-old Danzele Johnson, went around the back of the house and kicked in the steel door.
Rodney Scott, who was napping upstairs, heard a loud boom and woke up. The whole house shook, he later told police. He heard a second boom and felt his house shake again. There had been a burglary in the neighborhood earlier that week. He grabbed his handgun and ran loudly downstairs, hoping to scare away the intruders.
Sharp ran out the back door. The others were left inside. Scott, afraid for his life, fired his gun to scare them away. Layman, Quiroz and Johnson ran to the downstairs bedroom. They hid in a closet.
"That's when I noticed that Danzele was shot and I was shot," Layman told The Star.
While the three were inside, Scott called 911. The closet door opened. Johnson, who had been shot in the chest, lay lifeless on the floor.
Layman, who was shot in the leg, remembers apologizing several times.
"Sorry, sorry," he told Scott, who told them to stay in the closet.
Sparks, who had been outside and had heard loud bangs, said he got a call from Quiroz while they were inside.
"Someone was hurt. Come over and knock on the front door," Quiroz told Sparks.
Sparks did, but no one answered. So he tried to enter the back door. He made it to the kitchen and Scott, pointing a gun at him, told him to get out of his house, Sparks said. He fled home, not knowing what happened inside.
When police arrived and Scott looked away, Quiroz jumped out the bedroom window.
Scott and Quiroz both declined an interview request from The Star. Scott, who was cleared of any wrongdoing, has since moved out of his house. Sharp didn't respond to The Star's request.
'I didn't kill anybody'
Layman recalled sitting confused in the Elkhart County Jail shortly after they were charged with felony murder.
"I didn't kill anybody. I kind of thought, maybe they don't know what actually happened," Layman told The Star. "Maybe they think that I killed Den."
He figured police would learn that wasn't the case, and he'd be sent to the juvenile center for burglary. He soon realized he was wrong. He, Sparks and Sharp stayed in jail for the next nine months, awaiting trial for murder.
On Aug. 22, 2013, the three teens who hadn't pleaded guilty waited in a room while their families waited outside the courthouse. The jury deliberated for about five hours.
That was a concern for Layman. Why was it taking so long? If the jury was going to find them not guilty, he thought, they would've reached that decision sooner.
Late that night, with the courtroom packed with friends and families, the three defendants were escorted in to face the jury.
"We were all crying before we even walked in the courtroom," Layman said. "I kind of turned and looked over my shoulder ... I got my family behind me. I can hear everybody crying."
The verdicts were read: guilty.
April Sparks, Levi Sparks' mother, said she remembers hearing someone yell, "It's not fair!"
"We just kept going over and over it," April Sparks said, "how wrong we thought it was."
The following month, Layman and Sharp were sentenced to 55 years in prison. Sparks, who was not inside the house when the shooting happened, was sentenced to 50 years. The court of appeals later decided to suspend 10 years of Layman's and Sharp's sentences and five years of Spark's.
Many question felony murder charge
Some are critical of Hill's decision to pursue felony murder charges. They say the Elkhart case is unlike other felony murder cases, which typically involve armed defendants who can reasonably foresee that someone could get killed as a result of their actions.
"The run-of-the-mill felony murder case is going to be a pretty unsympathetic defendant," said Joel Schumm, a law professor at the Indiana University Robert H. McKinney School of Law in Indianapolis. "You know, armed robber, drug dealer who's done something that resulted in someone else dying."
Schumm points to the actual language of the Indiana statute, which he says, does not apply to the Elkhart case. According to the statute, "a person who ... kills another human being while committing or attempting to commit" another crime "... commits murder, a felony."
"Should that be felony murder if the homeowner shoots and kills one of the co-perpetrators? Schumm asked. "I don't think with the way the statute's written that it should be."
In at least two other Indiana cases, the Supreme Court ruled that a felony murder conviction of people who did not do the actual killing is justified because their actions created a risk for someone to get killed.
In 1999, the court upheld the conviction of Jesse Palmer, who pointed a loaded and cocked handgun at a police officer while trying to help an arrestee escape. Palmer shot the officer's hand. Another officer ended up shooting the arrestee, while Palmer fled.
In 2000, the court also upheld the conviction of Rodney Jenkins, who, along with a co-perpetrator, tied up two victims with a tape while committing armed robbery. One was able to get loose, grabbed a gun and shot the co-perpetrator.
Some say the Elkhart case was different.
"Here, by contrast, (the defendants) were (1) unarmed and (2) attempting to commit a non-violent burglary of what they believed to be an unoccupied residence," Judge James Kirsch wrote in a dissenting Court of Appeals opinion on the Elkhart case.
Plus, the defendants were juveniles.
"Subjecting a juvenile who did not kill or intend to kill anyone to a murder prosecution in adult court based solely on the premise it was 'foreseeable' to the juvenile that someone might be killed is problematic because juveniles do not 'foresee' like adults do," Court of Appeals Judge Melissa May wrote in the appeals court opinion.
Citing the pending Supreme Court decision, Hill and the Indiana Prosecuting Attorneys Council both declined to comment on the case.
Speaking generally, Hill said he doesn't think the use and application of Indiana's felony murder statute is unfair.
"What we call felony murder contemplates the unintended consequences of an inherently dangerous act. It all comes back to that," Hill said. "You don't get to felony murder unless you have the inherently dangerous act."
Criticisms abound, but changes are scarce
O'Neill, the John Marshall law professor, said the felony murder charge has created many convoluted cases and spurred criticism from the academic world.
In Florida, for instance, Ryan Holle faced a felony murder charge after his roommate borrowed his car and used it to drive to a drug dealer's home. The roommate and his friends broke in to steal a safe, and one of them ended up killing a resident. Holle, who was asleep in his bed at that time, was sentenced to life without parole.
In Illinois, Allison Jenkins was convicted of felony murder for trying to run away from an officer who suspected him of drug possession. The officer caught and tackled Jenkins and ended up firing his weapon, killing his partner. No drugs were found on Jenkins.
Michigan, Hawaii and Kentucky have abolished felony murder. England, where the law originated, also has done so. But much of the United States still uses the statute.
"It just doesn't seem to go away. Everybody criticizes it. Everybody writes against it," said O'Neill, who has written about felony murder. "Despite the vast majority of writing against felony murder, it hasn't had very much influence on lawmakers to change anything."
Indiana Public Defender Council Executive Director Larry Landis said charging people for what they did not do, especially for a death they did not intend, is an injustice.
"If you don't intend the results of your criminal act," Landis said, "you should not be punished as though you did intend to do it."
He said he plans to push for legislation next session, and hopes the Elkhart case will help spawn reform, but he admits that legislators are not likely to support a bill that, in essence, helps people who have committed a crime.
"It's much safer to sponsor a bill that increases the penalty for a crime," Landis said. "No one has ever lost an election for supporting a law to enhance penalty on a criminal."
Legislators are likely to defer to the Supreme Court, said Rep. Ryan Dvorak, a Democrat from South Bend whose district includes Elkhart.
"We'll have to wait and see what the ruling is," he said.
Dvorak said he thinks most people would agree that those who engage in violent behaviors that cause death should be held liable. But he also said the Elkhart case is unique.
Sparks and Layman said they are optimistic the Supreme Court will overturn their conviction.
If that happens, Sparks said he wants to study to become a mortician.
Layman plans to marry his fiancee and move out of Elkhart. He said he doesn't want to live in a town where he's labeled as one of the Elkhart Four.
"That's not how I want to be recognized. I made a mistake, and I got put in a really bad situation," Layman said. "It's not something I'm proud of."