We all have a private space. It may be the inside of our bedroom after hours. It may be the inside of our automobile, when driving down a two-lane highway to nowhere. Or maybe, it is that inscrutable part of our psyches that even our loved ones find mysterious and, at times, unsettling. Now, suppose we lose that private space. We awaken from a dream, sit up on our elbows, and see a pair of blank eyes staring back at us from the other side of our bedroom window. Although we had lowered our blinds before sliding beneath the sheets, there is just enough space in between two of them for our innermost fears to be realized. We are not alone. We have no privacy. The eyes condemn us to hell, and deep down we fear that we may not be able to slip out from that horrible fate. Can Billy Ray Blaise unlock the mystery behind a horrible crime, before those penetrating eyes unlock him? Can Detective Ringwood stay one step ahead of his superiors in the Beverly Police Department, so that he can retire with his gold watch no matter how closely they watch him? And what about our friend, Walter Whipple? The eyes have been doing a real number on him since God knows when. Can he grasp the reins of his own life, before those eyes observe the madness just beneath his civilized exterior? What about the rest of us? Can we keep our secrets, our private spaces, when the night stalker sees us naked and so moves in for the kill. You are not sure. Well, take off your clothes, slip under your blanket, say your prayers, and then see who stares back at you in the night.