The Clubhouse was half full, mostly regulars who had nothing better to do on a Tuesday night. Sawyer sat in the back row, close to the exit – just in case Kyle McArthur got long-winded about shrub height regulations again. Spoiler: he did.
“Section 12-C of the Landscaping Standards states that shrubs must maintain a uniform height between -“
Sawyer stared blankly at the laminated agenda. She wasn’t here for the landscaping debate. She was here because Maya was supposedly showing up, and lately, Maya had started to make her uneasy.
Nathan sat a few chairs over, snacking on almonds like it was movie night. “What if someone shapes their hedge like a flamingo? Just wondering.”
Kyle ignored him, and so did everybody else. Nathan was the guy who always tried to steal the show. He got on everybody’s nerves, and Sawyer had little patience for showboaters like him.
Maya entered five minutes late. No small talk. No fuss. No notebook. Just a quiet nod to the room before sitting on the edge of a row near the front.
Sawyer noticed Lynette leaning across the aisle toward Blake Patterson – new guy, technically still on probation per Cheryl. Lynette was smiling too much, playing with her necklace the way she did when she was fishing for information.
“I’ve always wondered what you really do for work,” she said, too casually.
Blake offered a polite laugh. “I’m in consulting.”
“That’s what they always say,” Cheryl whispered behind Sawyer. “That’s FBI code for mind your business.”
The meeting dragged on until Kyle proudly announced the HOA would issue Blake Patterson a formal notice for “unauthorized curbside parking,” citing a clause about temporary vehicles obstructing neighborhood harmony.
No one knew what that meant, including Blake, who had literally just moved in and parked a U-Haul next to his mailbox.
As people filtered out, Sawyer caught a glimpse of Maya leaving through the side door – not the one that led to the parking lot, but the trail that wound behind the Clubhouse.
Sawyer hesitated, then followed at a distance.
Maya wasn’t heading home.
She was heading toward the Ferguson house.
Sawyer paused near the sidewalk, just out of sight, and watched as Maya slowed at the edge of the yard. She didn’t knock. She didn’t go inside. She just stood there… watching the back fence, like she was waiting for something.
Then, without warning, she slipped behind the garage and disappeared from view.
That same garage – Sawyer now remembered – was where Cheryl had claimed she once saw someone working late at night with the garden floodlights on.
Later that night, Sawyer sat on her porch with a Sparkling Ice and her feet propped on the rail. The boys were asleep at her feet. She kept thinking about Maya and the Ferguson house.
And it had nothing to do with the height of the shrubs.
Stay tuned for our next episode: