I pull into my driveway, speeding all the way up it until I swerve out front –almost hitting the fountain in the courtyard. Today would be the day the cooks and the maid are off work, of course. Brandi was all by herself, and I left her to deal with fucking Laurel! I left her with Ambriel, and now there’s some creep in my house!

I jump out of the driver’s seat of the Volkswagen, not taking time to turn off the engine, and I dart up the stairwell that leads to the front door. We have been having a patrol car outside of our home every single night, but they would always leave during the day because I would be at work –and I was supposedly the one in danger. What if this creep is the one who was after me? What if he finds Brandi by herself? What if he realizes he was on the baby monitor –was it recording? I don’t even think about whether the guy has a weapon –I run straight into the mansion and flee up the stairs to the second story and to our room where I had told Brandi to hide in the closet.

When I reach the bedroom, I fling open one of the closets, and there is Brandi tucked away in a corner, Ambriel in her arms. Her face is covered in tears, and she is shaking. When I had opened the door, she had jumped fearfully. “It’s okay, it’s just me,” I say reassuringly, and she reaches a hand out to me. I pull her up; Ambriel is fast asleep. I kiss them both and wrap my arms around Brandi, my heartrate slowly started to subside.

We remain hidden in the bedroom which is where I told the 911 operator we would be, hoping that whoever is in our home –if they’re still here –doesn’t make it this far. My breathing starts to go back to normal when I hear police sirens outside. I glance out the window, and there is a small gathering of patrol cars. I see five policemen, their guns drawn, heading up to the mansion.

“Mr. and Mrs. Trial? This is the police. We’re coming in,” a voice calls out from the hall as the bedroom door slowly opens. An officer has his gun drawn. He nods when he sees us and waves us over.

I carry Ambriel’s oxygen tank that Brandi had drug into the closet with her. We follow the officer throughout home, and I notice for the first time that the place is completely ransacked. I hadn’t notice on my way through the house the first time since I had been entirely focused on finding Brandi and Ambriel. Anything that had once been glass –vases, mirrors, or glass doors on some of our cabinets –is shattered. Furniture is laying sideways, drawers are pulled open and tossed about, and it looks like someone took a bat to our walls. I imagine Brandi hiding in the closet with all that noise going on and how scared she must have been, and it pisses me the hell off.

We followed the officer out into the courtyard by the fountain, and another officer greets us, asks how we are doing, and then begins going through a series of questions. Brandi describes the man on the video, but she had not seen a face –unfortunately the monitor had not been recording. The police are swarming the mansion and the entire property, trying to see if the guy is still here.

Then suddenly they all start acting sketchy; they found something, but they don’t let me and Brandi in on what’s going on just yet. They just tell us to remain seated on the patio where they can keep us safe. I hope they are tackling the bastard in the back yard right now and he’s getting his ass hit by a Taser. We wait around for what feels like an hour when another patrol car pulls up along with some detectives in unmarked vehicles. Something went down, but I don’t know what.

I see Officer Carpenter, and he speaks with the on-scene officers for a moment, disappears into the backyard for a while, and then returns before speaking to us. “You two all right?” he asks.

“A little shaken up,” Brandi admits.

“What’s going on?” I ask, knowing that there is something we’re not being told.

“The on-scene officers found a body,” he said. “We’re not sure, but whoever was here probably dumped it.”

“Shit,” I say.

“It doesn’t look good. The guy was beat up pretty bad, but whoever was here dumped the body in your pool for a reason. If it’s not too much to ask, can you try to id the guy?” Officer Carpenter questioned.

My stomach churns slightly. I look at Brandi. “You stay here. If I don’t know the guy then you can see if you do, but there’s no reason for you to see this shit if you don’t have to.” She nods in agreement, and I follow Officer Carpenter into the backyard where our pool is set up.

They’re just now fishing the body out of the pool after having taken pictures for evidence as we are entering into the backyard. This is my fucking life now. They’re laying the body out on some plastic, and some crime scene detectives are taking some additional pictures. Nervously, I follow Officer Carpenter up to where the body is being laid out alongside the pool.

My stomach drops, and I instinctively reach out and grab Officer Carpenter’s shoulder. “Damn it,” I say. “It’s Caleb. My manager.”

The kids face is covered in bruises. His wrists are zip-tied behind his back, and his ankles are zip-tied as well. His clothes are torn, and it’s clear he put up a serious fight by his torn knuckles. “He fought back,” one of the detectives says. “If the pool didn’t wash it away, we might be able to get a DNA sample from his fingernails if he scratched at his attacker.”

“Good call,” Officer Carpenter says. He looks at me. “Thanks for helping. Sorry you had to see this. Let’s get you back to your wife.”

I linger. I had not known Caleb particularly well, but I was on my way to becoming a friend. He was a good kid, and he signed me and took a chance on me when no one else would. He was my manger –and not the way my old manager had once been. He cared about my career and about me. He was young and aspiring, and he helped me turn my career back around. And just like that, he’s dead, and whoever killed him was obviously trying to make a statement by dropping him off like this. What had his last moments been like? They had probably been fearful with flashes of sheer panic. What kind of person could do something like this? And why would they do it to a guy like Caleb?

“Oh, shit,” one of the detectives says as he is pulling back some of Caleb’s shirt. “Look at this.”

Officer Carpenter goes to look, and I can’t help myself; I follow. I cringe when I see words carved into Caleb’s chest –the knife that likely carved the words still sticking in his side. It reads: Ur Next Trial!