Chapter 55:
His eye twitched, and he did nothing to soothe it. The flicker and pull wasn't even registering. The only thing he could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears as his blood pressure skyrocketed. That, and the sound of Lois Lane's voice as she broke up with him over voicemail.
He seethed and, masochist that he was, hit replay on the message again. And again. And again. He listened to it until he felt his blood run cold, until the words no longer held any meaning to him. Just syllables strung together that could have meant anything at all. Complete gibberish.
It was gibberish. She wasn't making any sense. He wasn't responsible for half the things she laid at his doorstep. Her sister, the lying— okay, she had him on Kent, and she had him on the love potion, but how the hell she even knew about that was beyond him. Miranda hadn't gotten to use it on her yet! They'd screwed the pooch and kidnapped her sister instead!
The anger in her voice, though. It would have made his blood run cold if he wasn't so riled up by the content.
She'd left the message days ago.
And only a message! Not even the courtesy to do it in person, face to face... He'd proposed to this woman three times! How could he have gotten it so wrong? He wanted to marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her at his side. Now he didn't even want to say her name in his own head.
"Lex, I—"
A ring interrupted his pity-party abruptly and Lex nearly jumped out of skin. It took a few more rings for him to shake himself and pick up the line. He snapped into the device curtly. "What?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line that drew on for a few seconds too long. Lex gritted his teeth and took a shot in the dark at the caller. "Lois?"
"...No sir."
The crisp British accent drew him back instantly, and it all came crashing over him at once. He stepped back and landed into a chair, hand coming up to cradle his forehead. "Nigel. Oh, Nigel. What have we gotten ourselves into?"
"Sir?"
"That lying, cheating bitch. She can't do this to me. She can't just... just…” He struggled getting the word out, throat tight with tears and rage and the horrible thought that it kept happening over and over again. Bile rose up in his throat. “Abandon me like this. Everything I've done for her... Everything I've.... She's probably already gotten her legs around him, she's... she's probably with him right now—"
"Not likely, sir."
That pulled a mirthless laugh from the billionaire. "What do you know, Nigel. You've been gone a week. You're out of the loop."
"I have Miss Lane."
Lex froze, hand falling from his forehead as temptation was laid out before him. He'd never have asked for this, never have even thought... But here Nigel was, offering her up on a silver platter, and he suddenly found himself laughing. He wiped a tear away. "No accounting for serendipity."
"No, sir."
Luthor stood up with a wolfish grin. Big Blue wanted to believe he was a villain? So be it. He'd show the Man of Steel what Alexander Luthor was made of. "Where are you, Nigel?"
*****LnC*****
Movement, from the door of Lex Tower. He'd expected to be waiting longer. Clark watched studiously from around the dusty corner of the alleyway, peering through traffic as Lex Luthor ducked into his towncar, casting a nervous glance around before sliding in. He was hiding something. He didn't want to be seen.
Tough luck.
"Hey, Jimmy, I gotta go now. You found it, right?"
"Yeah, yeah. I found it. It's... great shades—"
"I know, Jimmy, I know. Look, just take care of it, all right? I’m getting help to track down Lois. Let me know as soon as you hear anything, all right?"
"Will do. Good luck. Don't let that son of a gun lay a finger on her, got it?"
"Not a chance, Jim."
Clark hung up the phone and delicately brushed the dirt off his spandex as he stood to follow the car, but a bout of unsteadiness beleaguered him. He braced himself with a hand against the wall. Tension knotted in his gut. He wasn't stable enough yet to go after him at full speed— he hadn't expected Luthor to be on the move so soon. Clark pursed his lips as the town car's engine turned over, and calculated his options as it started to pull away into traffic.
He smiled as his eyes landed on an open cab.
No one would ever believe it.
Clark strode confidently out of the alleyway in full regalia and hailed a taxi.
The cabbie— hardly more than a young kid, really— looked dumbfounded when the superhero slid into his backseat. "Hello," Clark smiled in a friendly, non-threatening manner, smoothly closing the door behind him. "Small favor to ask. You see that black town car up ahead?"
The young man spluttered and nodded, glancing at the car but mainly keeping his gaze trained on the hero.
"Breathe. Relax. I'm just another passenger." He glanced at the driver's name badge and I.D. hanging behind the seat, smirking when he saw the picture didn't match the face. The kid was probably terrified he'd been caught. "It's okay. I'm not here to bother you. What can I call you?"
The boy stuttered out his name, unsure of himself. "J-Jack."
Clark gave him a serene smile and played along. "Jack. You seem like a good kid. Really need to update that driver's license photo, though."
The kid nodded, starting to catch his drift. "Right. Yes. I'll remember to do that, sir. What can I do for you, sir?"
Clark smiled, and gestured calmly at the car in question again. "The guy in that car just tried to kill me. I'll owe you one if you follow him for me."
Jack nodded rapidly, the gesture so sharp that Clark was almost afraid the boy would snap his own neck. "Yes. I can do that. Yeah."
"Great. Keep a safe distance, I can keep track of where he's at. I just need you to get me there."
"Got it."
Clark finally leaned back in the seat of the cab, ignoring the stickiness of the pleather and choosing to relax a moment. It would all be done soon enough, and that thought alone made him smile. "I owe you one big time for this, kid."
*****LnC*****
A loud smack sounded as the hefty envelope hit his desk. Henderson arched an eyebrow at the cop who brought it in. "What's this?"
"Express delivery from the Daily Planet. Labeled for your eyes only."
Bill furrowed his brow. Certainly odd. They'd only just finished processing all the details for the smart kids case. Couldn't he have one day without Lane bugging him about a new case? She was relentless. Her nickname was well-earned.
He grumbled as he reached over and picked up the overstuffed envelope and ripped it open none too gently. He swept his keyboard to the side to clear some space before turning it to dump the contents onto his desk, and out thumped a stack of papers rubber banded tightly together, along with a lone piece of paper separate from the rest. He clicked his tongue at the mountain of paperwork, and turned his attention to the single letter.
It was short, harried, and it came from James Olsen of all people.
His grip tightened on the paper as he forced himself to slow down, pay more attention, re-read what it was exactly that the young man said. His blood ran cold as the statement sunk in, and he slammed the paper down on his desk.
"Maggie! Get your ass back in here!"
She turned around and marched the few short steps she'd gotten back to his office. "What is it, Bill?"
He looked up at her with sharp eyes. "Shut the door behind you."
She did as asked, and folded her arms as she turned back to face him. "What's going on, Henderson?"
Henderson didn't respond just yet, busying himself by unbanding the documents Lane and Kent had gathered over the last few weeks. Worry niggled at the back of his mind about Lois, but he trusted Olsen when he'd said that Kent and their friendly neighborhood superhero were out looking for her. And besides, if this information was true, they might get the bad guy before he knew what hit him. He glanced over the first set of documents— the biggest stack. Banking statements, documents from all of LexCorp's holdings and where money seemed to be channelling out, and back in. He recognized some of Lois' scrawl in the margins, directing attention to suspicious charges. There was another set of handwriting though, one he didn't recognize, but presumed to be Clark Kent's. He squinted at some of the suggestions. There were photos— Nigel St. John, passing cash to known criminals, consorting with mysterious figures. His eyes widened. Connections between Lex's actions and attempts made on the Man of Steel.
They'd hit the motherload.
Bill laughed, the thrill of a big case winding him up and leaving his stomach with that anticipatory feeling. "I hope you ate lunch already, because we might have just been handed the keys to the biggest case in the city."
