The Seventh Case (8)

The man in the dark mask roughly grabs my arm, his gun never wavering from my back. "Move," he grunts, pushing me towards the pristine house I had been observing earlier. The moonlight casts long shadows across the manicured lawn as we approach.

As we reach the front door, I notice him hesitate. Instead of using the main doorbell, his hand moves lower, pressing the second, more discreet button I had noticed earlier. A soft, almost imperceptible chime sounds from within the house. My suspicions are confirmed - this is indeed a different communication channel, likely alerting others inside to our presence.

After a moment of tense silence, the door opens silently. The interior is as immaculate as the exterior, but eerily empty. The polished hardwood floors reflect the moonlight streaming through the windows, creating an otherworldly atmosphere. Expensive-looking artwork adorns the walls, a stark contrast to the apparent abandonment of the place.