It was CharlotteLaConner's words that had put Sharon's nerves on edge, and they still echoed in her mind: "They're going to send me away. They've done something terrible with Jeff, and they don't want me to find out."
Had she meantTarrenTech, or had she meant the sports center?
Sharon had turned the words over in her mind, looking at them from every direction, and finally come to the conclusion that it didn't matter exactly what Charlotte had meant, for she was certain that one way or another the sports center, like nearly everything else in Silverdale, was totally dependent onTarrenTech for its survival. An operation like Marty Ames's couldn't possibly survive on the fees it could collect as a summer training camp for high school kids.
Unconsciously straightening her posture, Sharon pushed through the door and stepped up to the information desk, where she was met by a smiling receptionist.
"May I help you, Mrs. Tanner?"
Sharon frowned, then glanced instinctively at the girl's lapel, searching for the identification badge that allTarrenTech employees wore.
This girl wore none.
The girl's smile broadened as she realized Sharon's dilemma. "I'm Sandy Davis," she said. "And you don't know me. The security system did a photo comparison on you, so I knew who you were even before you came into the building."
Sharon's body stiffened. A photo checkofher? But why? And how? She'd never given the company a picture of herself- they'd never even asked for one. But of course the answer was obvious: the cameras in San Marcos had recorded her comings and goings, and no doubt images of her "had been transmitted to Silverdale along with the personnel files on Blake. Still, there was something eerie about it all, something creepy about knowing that she'd been spotted and identified even before she'd entered the building. She returned Sandy Davis's smile, hoping her nervousness wasn't showing.
"If you'll just tell me where my husband's office is?"
"Just down the hall to the left, turn right, and it's in the far corner, near Mr. Harris's."
Sharon started walking down the long corridor, but now that she was inside the building, the strange sensation of being watched was even stronger. She felt the hairs on the nape of her neck standing on end. Her step instinctively quickened, and she had to remind herself to appear as though nothing was wrong. By the time she reached Blake's suite, she was walking at a normal pace again. As soon as she stepped into the outer office, his secretary-another woman whom Sharon had never met-offered her a warm smile that was almost an exact copy of Sandy Davis's. "He's on the phone right now, but I slipped him a message that you're here," she said, after introducing herself with a firm handshake. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
Sharon shook her head, and almost immediately the inner door opened and Blake stepped out. "This is a pleasant surprise," he said, smiling a welcome. "What are you doing all the way out here?"
Sharon quickly blurted out the first thing that came into her mind. "The car," she said. "I wanted to do some shopping, and the list was too long for my cart." Then she glanced at the secretary out of the corner of her eye. "Could we go inside?"
Blake looked puzzled, but he nodded and held the door open for her. It was Sharon herself who closed it when they were both in his office. He cocked his head. "What's going on that you don't want Ellen to hear?"
"It's CharlotteLaConner," she said, automatically lowering her voice. Carefully trying not to betray the emotions churning inside her, she explained to Blake what had happened. When she was finished, Blake looked at her, bewildered.
"You came all the way out here to tell me that?" he asked. "That Charlotte's had a breakdown? Honey, we both saw that coming a couple of days ago."
"It's not that," Sharon said nervously. "At least not quite. It's whatshesaid. That 'they' had done something to Jeff. I think she must have been referring to the sports center."
"Or the great communist conspiracy," Blake observed archly. At the hurt he saw in Sharon's eyes, he tried to soften his words. "I didn't mean that," he said apologetically. "But we know Charlotte was getting paranoid, and with paranoia-"
"Was she?" Sharon interrupted. "I don't think we know that at all. We know she was upset, and she had every right to be. After what happened with Jeff, why wouldn't she be?"
Blake took a deep breath, then lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. "All right," he said. "What's on your mind? It's not just Charlotte, is it?"
Sharon hesitated, then shook her head. "I guess not," she said. "It's all kinds of things-things that wouldn't have bothered me at all if it were only one or two of them. But I keep getting the feeling that something's wrong out here, Blake." She made an expansive gesture, her trembling hands betraying her worry. "It's the whole thing-the town, the school, even the kids. Everything is too perfect."
Blake smiled wryly. "Apparently JeffLaConner isn't perfect," he interjected. Then his expression turned serious. "The Ramirez boy died this morning," he went on. "I understand his mother is still trying to blame Jeff."
Sharon's eyes clouded with tears as she remembered the sad form of Rick Ramirez, but then her thoughts shifted back to JeffLaConner. "But Jeff's gone, isn't he?" she asked. "And Charlotte started making a fuss about Jeff, and now she's gone, too."
"Now wait a minute," Blake began. "It's starting to sound like you're buying into-"
Sharon didn't let him finish. "I'm saying I'm not sure we did the right thing in coming here," she said. "At first, everything was fine. But now even Mark is starting to change. And it's happened since he started going to Dr. Ames."
"He's doing some exercises, and building himself up."
But again Sharon cut him off. "Yesterday he got into a fight with Robb Harris. That's not like Mark-he's never fought with anyone in his life."
Blake's jaw tightened and his arms folded over his chest. "What is it you want?" he asked. "You want me to pull Mark out of the sports center? Maybe we shouldn't stop there. Maybe I should quitTarrenTech and we should move back to California."
"Maybe we should," Sharon heard herself blurt out. Was that what she'd really been thinking all along? She wasn't sure.
Suddenly she thought she saw Blake's eyes flick nervously around the room, almost as if he were afraid that even in the privacy of his own office they were being observed. He fumbled in his pocket a moment and tossed her his key ring. "Look," he said. "I know you're upset right now, and maybe you even have a right to be. But this is something we can discuss later, when we're at home. Okay? Take the car-I'll either walk or hitch a ride with Jerry this evening."
It was a dismissal. For a moment Sharon was tempted to argue with him, to demand that they talk it out right now. But the expression on his face-and the strange flicker of nervousness in his eyes-made her keep silent. "All right," she said at last. She went over to kiss him, and for a fraction of a second thought he started to duck away from the gesture. "But I'm not kidding," she whispered into his ear. "Something's going on around here, Blake. I don't know what it is, but I'm going to find out."
A moment later Blake walked her to the door and kissed her good-bye. Even as she left the office, she had the strange feeling that he hadn't really meant the kiss, that it had been given more for the benefit of some unseen audience than as a gesture of affection for her.