“You won’t see us there, but we’ll see you,” whispered private eye Nate Degrasse into the payphone he was using to call you. “We might even hold up a camera and zoom in real close so we can snap photos of you as you look around and step into a car. Then later, there’s every chance we’ll put the photos in a yellow folder and slap it on our boss’ desk so that the pictures we took slide out of the envelope.”

Up until this point, they had just been peering through the blinds at you from a second story window, but now they’re going to start sitting on a park bench and pretending to read a newspaper.

“After we’ve seen enough,” Degrasse muttered as he let out a puff of smoke into the overhanging canopy of his fedora, “we’re gonna walk over to a telephone pole and hide behind it.”

At press time, Degrasse’s stakeout was interrupted because he parked in a handicap space.