"...hanging out in the kitchen one sunny Saturday morning..."

Short story:     

We live in a rural mountain neighborhood with two streets that run parallel to each other and about nine homes that are each on about an acre so we're pretty spread out. The house across the street from us is a large estate on the ridge line. It's set back from the road and pretty secluded. There aren't any houses beyond it, just mountain going straight down to the lake.

P.B. and I were hanging out in the kitchen one sunny Saturday morning when the doorbell rang. We each gave each other a look to say "I'm not expecting anyone," then he answered the door. An older man was on our porch and asked us if we had seen any kids around the home across the street. He explained that he's the caretaker while it's up for sale as the owners are across the country. We said we hadn't and he described some damage that has been done to the house recently and described some dead animals that have been found, including a squirrel that had a stick skewered through it.

Of course, after that I've been on alert and look out the windows whenever I see any movement outside. There have since been two occasions where I've seen our backdoor neighbor's teenage son walking through our yard from the direction of the house across the street. I know that isn't conclusive evidence, but there is no reason I can think of for that kid to be coming from that direction other than he's up to no good.

I'm pretty sure our neighbor's kid is the next Jeffrey Dahmer.