The rec room is quiet and empty, dust-free after my efforts on Thursday. The door next to the fireplace looks like an afterthought, plain and dark, a wooden airlock with an ancient deadbolt and no knob. I’m half-surprised when Kristina’s key slides into the keyhole. The door opens with the barest squeak. As promised, there’s no bleat from the security system. Caliban darts out ahead of me into a space shaded by the looming chimney and the laurel hedge. I’ve worked for the Huntzels for months, but this is the first time I’ve seen this end of the house from the outside. The slope of Mount Tabor drops sharply here, too steep for landscaping. Last year’s leaves crackle under my feet. After throwing me a look, Caliban disappears into the brush. A weedy path spills down to the street, hidden from the house by a wall of arborvitae. With Kristina’s key, I can come and go as I please. I can only guess why she gave it to me—maybe more weird Huntzel gratitude for what I did to Duncan.
What do You think about Property Of The State (2016)?
