Finn fitted the guitar pick’s narrow end into a little slot, and the red pulsing light turned green. A message appeared in an LED panel: REPEAT TO ARM. “Close the door,” she said to Billy. He did and she squeezed the guitar pick again. The panel light pulsed red and the LED said: ARMED. “Okay, let’s look around.” “I feel like I’m trespassing,” said Billy. Finn nodded. Billy was right; there was something a little unsettling about wandering around in a stranger’s house, even if she did now own it. There was a mustiness in the air. No one had been here in quite a while. She had an urge to run around opening windows. Directly in front of them was a long hallway with rooms on either side. The hallway walls were hung with a number of paintings, all modern. The walls were painted flat white. The overall effect was a kind of studied blankness as though Pieter Boegart didn’t want to reveal anything about himself through his taste in decor. There were two front rooms, like large parlors, flooded with light.
