Stepping through a small break in the bushes, Sharon found herself coming suddenly upon a slightly smaller version of Hank Harrington. Young Tommy was standing there leaning against the fender of his dark-red '68 Mustang convertible, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes focused on the dash where several loose wires dangled. At first he didn't notice her, his mind apparently lost in thought about something in the car. Sharon's first reaction was to step back into the bushes and disappear. After all, no one had spotted her, and this was a dumb idea in the first place. Idea? She didn't have an idea, a plan. She just wanted to get over here to find out what the family was really like.

Too late. Tommy had spotted her, his eyes rounding in pleased surprise.

"Hi… I'm Sharon Urban… from next door," the girl said a little uneasily, tilting her chin up at a provocative angle while shaking more loose hair from her face.

Tommy Harrington was certainly good looking enough. She had seen him once or twice from the kitchen window. But up close, his looks improved. Black-haired and blue-eyed, the tall teenager obviously enjoyed working out, his firm muscles rippling under the greasy, sweat-stained cotton T-shirt.

"Tommy… Tommy Harrington."

Sharon could see the sheen of perspiration on his arms, and she felt her heart quicken.

"Yeah, I know… funny we haven't met, or anything like that," Sharon said, swallowing a large lump of excitement.

"Been busy with this," Tommy said, moving his eyes back over to his car.

"Oh, yeah, a real classic," Sharon purred, feeling some of the former uneasiness and fear disappear. He seemed far less threatening than his father. Maybe he didn't even know what his dad was doing.

"My dad got it for me a while ago. Been fixin' it up since."