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“Stalker watch,” Muriel says.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, approaching.

Wilson pours what appears to be coffee from the thermos into the mug he’s holding. “We understand you have a stalker. We are going to stake out today in shifts so we can catch her.”

I scrub a hand over my face.

“Why are you interested in catching her?” I ask, truly curious.

“We don’t like people sneaking around in our town,” Muriel says. “I cannot believe this has been going on for two weeks.”

Ah, got it. They’re annoyed that someone has been able to do something under everyone’s noses without getting caught for so long.

They’re not worried about our safety. They’re worried that their well-oiled meddling machine and grapevine of information has a glitch.

“Camping out on the front lawn isn’t exactly the way to covertly discover someone’s identity. She’s going to approach the house, see you all, and turn right around.”

That makes them all pause. They look at one another, then look up at me.

“Dammit,” Patty finally says.

I blow out a breath.

Wilson looks over his shoulder at the house across the street. “Maybe Dan and Kathleen will let us sit on their front porch.”

“We might need to come in singles or just pairs,” Patty says.

“I can text everyone,” Muriel says, pulling out her phone. It’s enormous and probably weighs three pounds. It also has a bright neon green case that’s covered with gemstones and glitter that sparkle in the morning sun.

“Well, that will spread out the schedule,” Patty says brightly.

“There’s a schedule?” I ask.

They all look up at me. “Of course. We can’t all be showing up here at once. That would be ridiculous.”

Yes, that would be ridiculous.

And what do they mean by ‘we all’?

But I don’t want to know. If they told me there are seventeen people signed up to help stalk the stalker, I wouldn’t be surprised.

I glance at the house again. I can’t have people out here watching the house. Brewser wants this person to keep stopping by. And, just as importantly, if his friends are out here constantly, there’s a better chance of them seeing him struggle down the front steps or fumble with his jacket zipper.

“Well, obviously we need to wait inside,” Wilson tells his co-conspirators.

“Oh, I heard the stalker’s brownies are really good,” Muriel adds. “We can pretend we’re just here for coffee and treats. The stalker will never realize we’re here to nab her.”

Right. Great plan.

She’ll just waltz inside and say, ‘oh, hi, guess you caught me’ when she sees this group gathered around the kitchen table.

Not to mention, she’ll be able to hear them from the front walk even if they’re inside.

“What if she gets angry we’re all here and just murders us all?”

Everyone turns and looks at Muriel at once.

“You think she’s murderous?” Harley asks.