The compound screamed one word: dank. The lawn had not been mowed for quite some time, and walking through it seemed like a hustle on its own.
There was only one building in the compound, and on the farthest end, there was a dilapidated shade that had building materials.
Maurice, James, and Val got out of the police car and all looked at each other and sighed heavily before walking toward the house.
As they approached, they could smell how musky and damp it seemed. Val removed her handkerchief from her purse and covered her nose, and looked up at where the security lights of the house should have been, but the bulbs were broken.
The mailbox was full of letters. The house was so dark from the outside that no one could peep and see what was in.
Maurice pressed the doorbell using his right hand, his badge in the other hand. He was greeted by silence.
