His house.
His name on the deed.
Face's house.
Mr Peck's residence.
Oh, he should get himself a butler to answer the phone that way.
Except, no, because Stockwell's final payoff (pardons, cash, get
lost) had bought this house, but wouldn't run to staffing it
too.
Face left his house, heading to the store for groceries for his
kitchen. The door closed behind him, locking with a heavy thunk (invested
in real good locks) and Face's hand flew to his empty pocket. He
sighed.
Again.
His house.
Now he just had to get into the habit of remembering his
keys.