The doorbell rings

"Who the fuck is that?" Jack muttered to nobody in particular in the kitchen as the doorbell reverberated through the first floor. You looked up from your phone, considered asking if you should get it, but apparently he was curious and had started walking towards the front door himself.

Maybe have forgotten you were in the building? You got up and walked over to the wall separating the kitchen and the living room. The living room and kitchen connected to each other further inside the house, and the hallway with the front door did so in the front. Hiding behind the fireplace on the kitchen wall, you were even more out of sight to anyone coming into the hallway going into the kitchen. If you were to go upstairs you would have to cross the open kitchen doorway, however, but you'd cross that bridge when you got to it.

You heard Jack opening the door. "Good afternoon," the male voice from outside said after a slight pause, no doubt caused by Jack's lack of hospitality manifesting as a silent scowl. "I'm Mister ... . I just moved to the neighborhood. May I come in?" you heard the voice ask, causing you to tilt your head. Did he say his name very quietly?

"Uh, Well, sure..." You heard Jack mutter as he opened the door and let the stranger enter the house. They walked into the kitchen from the sound of the footsteps. "What do you want?" Jack asked, seeming unusually uncertain in his voice.

A click like a ballpoint pen could be heard in the kitchen. "Oh, nothing much. Just getting to know the neighbors and the neighborhood. You're Mister Smith from the mailbox out front?"

"That's right."

"And the missus, miss Harris is out working?"

"Denise, For another hour or so."

"Good, good. Anyone else at home?" the stranger asked and you felt a chill go down your spine. The click of the ballpoint pen slowly ticked twice.

"I don't think so," Jack said. "Denise's boy was here ten minutes ago, but he probably biked off to gossip with his friends," he said with a familiar disdain. Normally you'd make yourself known at this time... but for some reason things felt very wrong.

"Alright, great!" The stranger said and a single click could be heard. "Let me get to business then. I figured I needed to visit you quickly after that event down by the hauler truck."

Silence from Jack. Was the guy holding a gun on your step dad? You slowly leaned your head into the kitchen door, peaking a look at the back of the stranger. He was holding some sort of fidget toy in his left hand. Die shaped with various buttons and things to press. You feel a slight relief, but your stepfather's careful and unusual demeanor was still eerie. You lean back as it seemed he was about to glance over his shoulder towards you.

"Anyway. You made a bit of a scene. Some of the movers dropped a box with some plates and kitchen items, one of the kids woke from their slumber and started screaming. So I figured I'd nip this one in the bud, come over and have a little talk about how things are going to be."

"How things are going to be? That's not how things work in this country, buddy." Jack said in a more familiar tone of growing anger.