I hate funerals, and this one is especially painful. It’s all so familiar. Caleb had been so young –just like Gabe. The atmosphere at a funeral is already sad enough without the added comments from everyone about how the deceased had so much more life to live. I can’t stand to even be here.

“Talk about Déjà vu,” Marty grumbles as though he had just read my mind. I am standing with him, Tyler, and Bobby. The women had all stayed home –they had come to the viewing yesterday, but I felt the need to come to the actual funeral. He had been my manager, after all, even if we had not been particularly close. The guys had tagged along too.

“Don’t talk about that now, man,” Tyler practically hisses.

I’m disgusted. The lab reports came back; Caleb had died from drowning. He had suffered through it all –the beating, the cuts, the stab wound in his gut, and then whoever did this to him topped it off by tossing him into my pool and then trashing my house. He had drowned tied up, bleeding out –probably struggling and scared out of his mind. It is almost too much like the way Gabe had died –trapped in my car, trying his hardest to escape the seatbelt that had him held in place while the son of a bitch came closer and closer before finally putting a bullet in his head. It wasn’t right to have to have to die like that –to have to feel scared and desperate. To have to struggle and fight until the very end. It makes me sick, and it makes me want to enact revenge for them both.

I think about the guy sitting in a prison cell who killed Gabe, and I swear –even though I never would –I start contemplating going after the bastard and blowing his brains out while he’s sitting cozy in his cell. Now there’s some guy out there who got Caleb too, and if I ran into the guy into the streets, I don’t know what I’d do to him. Probably take out my frustration from both of these murders on him.

“This is so messed up,” Bobby says. “I mean, he was practically a kid, you know?”

“We know,” I say; this is way too familiar for us. Its Bobby’s first time dealing with some messed up stuff like this. Familiarity does not make it any easier, though.

Caleb’s casket is being lowered into the grave, but the four of us are still standing a little ways back –far enough to give his family some space. “All right,” Marty says. “I’m going to say it if no one else is. They carved a damn warning into the kid’s chest. Whoever hired that guy to kill Gabe probably hired whoever killed Caleb, or hell, the head honcho might have even taken care of Caleb himself. You’re the connection, Jonathan. Some asshole has it in for you, and I bet I fucking know who it is. You’re all thinking the same thing: Donte. Who else has it in for Jonathan this bad? He must have been the one to go after Jonathan originally.”

“But why would he have wanted to kill me?” Jonathan asked. “Especially back then. He had beat me in a match –and Gabe had been killed before we had our run-in in the locker room. Other than just being a competitor, I don’t see why he would want me dead –at least not back then anyways. Now we have beef because of Brandi, but that wouldn’t connect him to Gabe’s murder.”

“Didn’t you call him about what you found in Donte’s locker?” Tyler suddenly piped up.

I frown. “Yeah, I did.”

“You don’t think Donte found out, do you?” Bobby asked.

“It’s possible,” I say. “You guys think Donte would really kill Caleb?”

“He’s a creep. And if you were about to ruin his career, threatening you makes sense. Caleb never got a chance to report Donte’s sabotage to the proper authorities,” Tyler said.

I feel myself sifting my stance. “I suppose that makes sense. I should let the police know that I had called Caleb about what I found in Donte’s locker. I didn’t even think about that. It’s a possible lead, I suppose. But I still don’t think Donte had anything to do with Gabe. I mean, it would be so random…” I pause.

They notice.

“What are you thinking, Jonathan?” Bobby asks.

I don’t want to say. Donte and I didn’t have beef until after Gabe had been murdered. So why would he have sent someone to kill me then? If Gabe and Caleb’s murders were connected –Donte just didn’t make sense as a culprit. Unless there was something going on I wasn’t aware of that made Donte hate me. What if Brandi and Donte had been together before we split? My throat becomes dry. What if what Vivian had said was true –that Brandi had been cheating on me? And what if it had been with Donte? And Donte had wanted to get rid of me?

“I got to go,” I say suddenly, and I start walking. I head straight to my car. I’ve got to talk to Officer Carpenter. I head straight down to the station, and thankfully the guy is there. He pulls me into his office, and he asks me about funeral. I just cringe and say, “He was practically a kid. How do you think it went?”

Officer Carpenter nods and sits across from me at his desk. “What’s gotten you all riled up, Trial?”

“I have a theory,” I say. “I mean, I’m no detective, but I have my suspicions.”

I lay it all out for him. I tell him how Brandi started seeing Donte after we split and that I suspect that there was a slight chance the relationship might have been going on longer than that, but I’m not sure. I tell him that if Donte wanted to be with Brandi that would explain why he would want to target me. I tell him about the drugs I had found in Donte’s locker and everything that I had planned to accuse him of and how I had told Caleb all about it the day before he had been killed. When I am finished talking, Officer Carpenter gives me a simple nod. “Look, Trial,” he says, “I get it. You’re upset, and you’re looking to blame someone. You’ll have to excuse me if I am a little hesitant to take your rival in for questioning. You do have a match coming up against him in a few weeks, right? And you got your ass handed to you twice. Someone from the outside looking in could easily say it sounds like you’re trying to frame Donte for all of this to keep yourself from getting humiliated in the ring again.”

I quickly become defensive. “That’s not it at all!”

“Relax. I’m just making an observation. I’ll look into Donte, don’t worry. Just don’t start jumping to conclusions, all right?” he says as he stands up.

“Fine,” I gripe and head out. I don’t have time to think about all this right now anyways. The marathon is in two days.