Before this episode published, I called Tiffany Horn. I wanted to make sure she knew what was coming.

I wanted to let her know that we begin with her brother, Trevor.

She said to me, I put my love for him in this box in my heart, and I don't open it often.

Because it's too painful. But she insisted, he should be seen.

He deserves it. And just so you know, this episode of Hitman might be hard to hear.

Listener discretion is advised.

A blade of grass.

There was this single blade of grass on Trevor's cheek.

When the police found him on the morning of March 3rd, 1993, he was lying in his crib wearing his white and blue PJs.

One of the nurses would later testify that he was given a bath every evening before bed. They were very thorough.

And the nurse, she knew that grass couldn't have been there by accident.

He stayed in his wheelchair any time he went outside.

If he played, she said. It was on the rug or on the quilt in his room.

The prosecutors argued that the grass had to have come from the killer's hands, that he wrapped one hand around the boy's nose and mouth and the other around his trake opening, and left behind that blade of grass.

I came across the crime scene photos of Trevor last year, and I tried not to look. It almost felt disrespectful.

But this is the reality of what happened to him. As Tiffany said, I owed him a moment of acknowledgement of seeing him.

I understand if you've been trying to put Trevor out of your mind.

If you'd rather I tell you more about Motown or this crazy book Hitman or the French publisher behind the murder manual, or maybe you just want me to hurry up and get to the part where they catch the killers.

But anytime someone tells me, oh it's just a book, it's just a book, it's just a book.

I remember that a Hitman entered a quiet home in the middle of the night and smothered an eight-year-old child.

I remember that blade of grass.

It wasn't an accident. Trevor wasn't collateral. His death was all part of the plan. It was the plan.

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