*
Bishop Ranch, it turned out, was a sprawling office park that ranked among Northern California’s most prestigious business locations. On the woman’s advice, they’d taken BART to the Dublin/Pheasanton station, where buses were conveniently available to take them the rest of the way to San Ramon in Contra Costa County, where Bishop Ranch was located.
“You can see it now.” Alex pointed out the bus’s window. “Over there on the right.”
Sam followed his finger to the massive interconnected complex of buildings that reminded her somehow of the Pentagon, trying to picture things as they were the day of the fire eighteen years earlier when Laboratory Z had burned to the ground.
Situated in a tree-laden valley dominated by rolling hills and the same oaks, elms, and spruce that grew like weeds over the entire Bay Area, the city of San Ramon sat in the shadow of Mount Diablo to the northeast. A curious mix of urban sprawl enclosed by untouched land that passed as wilderness ruled by grasslands and tree orchards. The dryness of fall had turned the vast planes of grasses a goldenrod shade that made for pleasant viewing outside the window of their BART car in the trek there. They’d had the car virtually to themselves, Sunday marking the return of casual drivers along what is less than affectionately known as “the Maze.”
“I can’t believe your parents grow weed,” Alex said to make conversation, when Sam’s gaze lingered out the window a little too long.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, it just seems strange.”
“No, strange was when they tried to pay the mortgage with a trunk full of homemade jams and jellies.”
“A trunk full of jams and jellies? That sounds crazy.” Alex smiled.
“Based on the past couple days, I don’t even know what qualifies as crazy anymore.”
“If I hadn’t been born on another planet, I’d wonder if maybe we weren’t switched at birth,” Alex said. “What with your parents likely preferring a football player and mine wishing they had a kid who actually was good in school.”
The smile slipped from his face at that.
“Alex…”
“No, don’t bother. I’m okay, Sam. Really I am.”
She shrugged, leaving things there.
“What are you thinking about?” Alex asked, when Sam’s gaze strayed out the BART car’s window again.
“You told Reverend Billy I was your girlfriend.”
“So?”
She turned back his way. “So what would Cara think of that?”
“What’s the difference?”
“No difference. I just…” Sam started to turn back to the window, then stopped. “I want to tell you something I promised not to tell.”
“That Cara’s breaking up with me.”
“She told you?” Sam asked, squaring her shoulders with her gaze now.
“No, you just did. Well, not really—I already knew it was coming, was just stringing her along. I mean, did you really think I wouldn’t find out about that college guy she’s been seeing?”
“So why lead her on?”
“Because she led me on first. And it was the brother of one of the other cheerleaders who told me and I promised to let her spill first. It was kind of fun.”
“Leading her on?”
“And seeing her for what she really was. It’s like, what was I thinking? How did I not see through her before?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
“I asked.” Alex shrugged.
“She was an accessory, like the souped-up wheels on your car or your new leather jacket.”
“I don’t have souped-up wheels or a leather jacket.”
“Figure of speech.”
“Yeah,” Alex said, “ironic, isn’t it? And Cara wasn’t always an accessory. I really liked her for a while.”
“You didn’t say ‘loved.’”
“For a reason.”
Sam shook her head, frowning. “Someday you need to explain all this high school stuff to me.”
“You mean, like be your tutor? Be careful, I’m expensive.”
“What happened to ‘All Free Tomorrow’?”
“Then we’d face the same problem in twenty-four hours. And right now we’ve got something more important to do.”
“Find Laboratory Z,” Sam finished.
77
BISHOP RANCH
“WHERE DO YOU THINK it was?” Sam asked Alex, as they walked along the outer perimeter of the sprawling Bishop Ranch Business Park, which seemed to stretch on forever.