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The malware signature stared back at me from three different screens. I'd been chasing the same digital ghost for forty-eight hours straight, and the bastard kept slipping through my fingers like smoke.

My phone buzzed. Jase.

"Nash is here. Conference room. Now."

I saved my work and headed upstairs. Nash Rivers stood by the window, arms crossed, holding a mug of coffee.

"Code." Nash nodded once. "Good. Maybe you need to hear this too."

I grabbed coffee from the pot and sat. The mug warmed my hands. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten something that wasn't delivered in a cardboard box. My dinner with Katherine seemed like a hundred years ago.

"Pearl called me." Nash pulled out his phone and scrolled through notes. A smile tugged at his lips. "You know how she gets when someone new shows up in town."

"Protective," Simon said.

"That's putting it mildly." Nash shook his head with obvious affection. "She said a stranger came in for breakfast at the diner yesterday morning. Ate again at her place for dinner. Showed up for lunch at her restaurant again today and she decided enough was enough."

"Uh-oh. What'd she do?" Roan leaned back in his chair.

Nash read from his notes. "First question was 'You visiting family?' He said no. Then she asked 'Business in town?' He said he was thinking about buying a house." Nash looked up. "That's when Pearl's radar went off. She knows everyone who's selling property in three counties. So, she asked him what he was looking for. Victorian? Ranch? How much land?"

"Let me guess," I said. "He couldn't give specifics."

"Exactly. Said he was just getting a feel for the area. Wanted to see if Jasper Creek was the kind of place he could see himself settling down." Nash's expression turned amused. "Pearl excused herself to the kitchen and called both Realtors. Shauna Simmons and Rich Crawford. Neither one had talked to anyone matching his description. Neither one had any appointments with potential buyers this week."

Simon's lips twitched. "She actually called both Realtors during his lunch?"

"Within five minutes. Then she came back out and asked him directly which realtor he'd been working with." Nash couldn't quite suppress his grin. "The guy stammered something about wanting to look around on his own first. Pearl told him that's not how it works in small towns, that Realtors show properties, and if he wanted to buy a house in Jasper Creek he'd better call one of them because she wasn't going to serve lunch to someone who was lying to her face."

Roan laughed. "She kicked him out?"

"Not quite. But she made it clear his money wasn't welcome if he wasn't being straight with her." Nash sobered. "That's when she called me. Said something felt wrong about him. The way he looked around, cataloged exits, watched people."

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. That professional instinct, honed over twenty years of hunting threats, recognized a pattern.

"What kind of questions?" I asked.

Nash consulted his notes again. "Who owned the coffee shop. Who ran the Inn. If the same families had been in Jasper Creek for generations or if new people moved in often. Pearl said it felt like he was mapping the town."

"Description?" I asked.

"White male, late thirties, maybe early forties. Six feet tall, athletic build. Short red hair, clean shaven. Wearing jeans and a black jacket both days. Paid cash." Nash set his phone on the table. "Pearl's instincts are usually solid. If she says something's off, something's off. We’re in luck; her parking lot security camera got an image of him. Here he is.”

Nash turned his phone around; we all took a look and memorized his face and build.

"Could be former military," Simon said.

"Could be a lot of things." Nash's attention shifted between us. "But Pearl getting protective means she thinks someone in this town is in danger. Therefore I'm feeling protective, which is actually my job." Nash's jaw tightened. "So, I'm here asking what you know. Why would someone be watching Jasper Creek?"

Simon and Roan exchanged glances. Some silent conversation passed between them.

"We have a client staying at Whispering Pines," Simon said carefully. "High-profile. Potential security concerns."

Nash's eyes narrowed. "How high-profile are we talking?"

"Katherine Lord," I said. "The actress."