The Setup

After the visit at Apex, I returned to Gainesville. The next two days went by fast and on Wednesday afternoon, I had just come back from the university, parking in front of my house, when my security guard walked up to me.

"Sir," he began, glancing over his shoulder. "There's a man by your house. We stopped him before he got to the door. He said he wanted to call on you, but Miss. Rodriguez told us she doesn't know him. We were about to call the police, but he insisted we wait for you, claiming you'd let him in. He's refusing to give his identity, though, so it's pretty suspicious."

I furrowed my brow, glancing past him. A man who looked to be around 30 years old, with short dark hair stood stiffly next to another security guard, his hands in his pockets, he looked calm but guarded.

"How long has he been here?" I asked.

"Not long," the guard replied. "Maybe 15 minutes."