Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
HereWhere we left off in Part 33 …Lois moaned. This time it was just a fraction of decibel louder than last time. She cracked her eyes in time to see Clark shift his position in his sleep, as if reacting to her moan. She waited another minute and moaned again. This time, she heard a similar moan escape his lips. Well, at least, she had given Clark a happy dream as opposed to a Lois-got-shot dream.
She waited another minute and then half-whispered, half-moaned his name. “Clark…”
“Mmmmm,” he responded, and she watched as he shifted his position in the chair again. She loved playing him like her own little marionette.
“Clark,” she moaned his name again. “Lie down,” she whispered, then closed her eyes again to feign sleep. She peeked in time to see him stretch his arms above his head. Oh, crap! She had woken him up. Lois tried to make her breathing as regular as possible.
She felt the mattress dip under his weight and chanced another glimpse. Clark hadn’t laid down next to her, instead he stretched his hands out on the bed and then rested his head on his hands. His butt was still firmly planted in the dining room chair. Oh, well, it was a small victory at least.
Lois watched Clark for a minute to see if he would move or wake up, and when he did neither, she moved a little closer to him. She curled her body slightly around his head and reached out with her left hand. When she met his, she let it softly fall next to it, so that their pinkies were touching. Anymore and she was sure he would wake.
Her eyes grew heavy as she stared at his lips. She had never realized how handsome Clark’s lips were until tonight. Sure, she had thought about his arms, his hands, that chest, even his smile, but never his lips. Her eyes closed as she allowed herself to dream of all the possibilities those lips could fulfill.
Part 34**********
A New Day**********
Clark awoke to the sound of knocking. He glanced around and saw he had fallen asleep on the dining room chair with his head resting on Lois’s bed. He jumped to his feet, ashamed at having been in her room all night. He had sworn to himself that as soon as she had fallen asleep, he would leave, find a nice icecap somewhere, and bury his head.
Despite her protestations of not being tired, it hadn’t taken long for Lois to fall asleep. He didn’t remember putting his head on her bed, but was thankful. Better that than floating.
The knocking came again, louder.
Lois lifted up the pillow next to her and covered her head. “Tell whoever it is to go jump off a cliff.”
Clark stumbled out to the living room past a sleepy-eyed Lucy.
“What time is it?” Clark asked, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.
“Quarter to seven,” said Lucy with a yawn.
Clark flipped the locks on the door and opened it to several bouquets of red roses. He pressed his lips together.
Luthor.
Lucy came to stand next to Clark. “Who is…? Wow! That’s a lot of roses.”
“Take them away!” Clark said, going to shut the door. “She doesn’t want them.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Clark. Of course, Lois wants them. She loves flowers,” Lucy said, opening the door wider to allow the man to enter.
“They’re from Luthor,” Clark said.
“How sweet,” Lucy gushed. “Clearly he cares.”
“He shot her.”
Lucy froze. Had she forgotten that detail? “Surely it was an accident, Clark, and he’s trying to make amends.”
“He aimed a gun at the man standing right next to her. He didn’t take Lois’s safety into consideration,” Clark retorted. “In my opinion, he has lost the right to her friendship.”
“Clark, evidently he feels bad about…”
“Lucy,
he didn’t come to the hospital.
He ordered flowers to be delivered at the crack of dawn, even though he must have known that she would’ve been at the hospital ‘til all hours of the night.
Those aren’t the actions of someone who is thinking of Lois’s best interests.”
The deliveryman held out the clipboard for Lucy’s signature and glanced at Clark. “No point of even asking for a tip, is there?”
“You woke up a woman who was shot last night! You want a tip, go get it from Luthor,” Clark growled.
“Well, Clark, if I wasn’t awake before, I am now,” Lois said, entering the room and eyeing the flowers. She turned to the deliveryman. “Thank you.”
The deliveryman’s eyes went wide as he stared at her bandaged arm and hospital t-shirt. “Sorry, Ma’am, no tip needed,” he said, and bolted through the door, shutting it behind himself.
Feeling horrible that his bad behavior and arguing with Lucy had gotten Lois out of bed, Clark went straight into apology mode. “I’m sorry, Lo…”
But Lois held up her hand as she looked over the flowers. “Lex?”
Lucy squealed, pulling something out of one of the bouquets. “I found it!”
Lois held out her hand, and her sister dropped the note in her palm.
Clark turned away. He knew that there couldn’t possibly be anything Luthor could write to make Lois forgive him, yet he still found himself grinding his teeth together.
“I’ll never forgive myself. Lex.”
Clark rolled his eyes. Like
that mattered in the grand scheme of things.
“Clark, could you get me a glass of water?” Lois asked, tossing the note on the side table as she passed him.
He nodded.
“Lucy, I need your help in the bathroom,” Lois announced to her sister, and left the room.
Clark went into the kitchen and got a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water. He leaned against the counter, burying his face in his hand, embarrassed at his bad behavior. He had wanted to tell Lois that she didn’t need to shower, that Perry had specifically said for Clark to keep her from the office today, but he could just picture her reaction to that piece of news.
The phone rang and since the Lane women were still in the bathroom, he went to answer it.
“Hello? Lane residence,” he said into the receiver.
“Kent, there you are! I take it that Lois made it home okay,” Perry barked into the phone. “I was waiting from a call from you all night.”
“Sorry, Chief. It was the middle of the night when we got here,” Clark apologized, wondering if he was going to get anything right today. “Lois is in the bathroom. We got woken up by a truckload of flowers from Luthor.”
“Kissing her butt, so she doesn’t press charges, huh?” Perry guessed with a chuckle, and causing Clark to crack a smile. “Menken’s dead.”
“What?” Clark gasped, not expecting this development.
“Apparently, the bullet that hit Lois, struck him as well.”
“He didn’t say anything,” Clark mumbled. How had he missed that? Well, duh! Lois being shot presided over everything else.
“Huh?” the Chief asked.
“Superman. He didn’t mention it,” Clark said, since Clark Kent hadn’t been anywhere near Menken after Lois had been shot.
“I need you to go down to the Twelfth and talk to Inspector Henderson about it,” Perry ordered.
“Sir, I’m kind of helping Lois at the…”
“
You’re not on sick leave, Kent. News doesn’t wait,” his boss reminded him. “Menken is still
your story, isn’t it? And anyway, do I sound like someone who wants to be in the office on a Sunday morning?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I mean, I’ll go,” Clark replied, his chest aching at the thought of leaving Lois, especially since this new order countermanded the one his boss had given Clark the night before. “I’ll get down there just as soon as I get Lois back to bed, and take a few minutes to go home to shower and shave.”
Perry chuckled. “Spend the night there, did you, Kent?”
Clark groaned. Wasn’t there one person at the Daily Planet who didn’t gossip? “I fell asleep on the sofa, sir. Lois and I are partners, and partners help each other in their hour of need.”
“
Her sofa? Uh-huh,” Perry replied, obviously not buying it.
One glance at Lois’s living room and Clark could see why. Those must be the torture devices that Lucy had mentioned at the hospital. It had been a while since he had been inside Lois’s home.
“Get me the Menken story for the evening edition.”
“Yes, sir,” Clark said, but the Chief had already hung up. Clark tapped the phone against his forehead in frustration. At least Perry wasn’t one to spread gossip about his staff. This thought was interrupted by a series of clicks.
His brow furrowed. Why was Lois’s phone clicking? He set down the receiver and closed his eyes, listening for electronic noises that shouldn’t be there. He rubbed his nose ‘accidentally’ bumping his glasses askew, and opened his eyes again. He scanned the phone with his x-ray vision and saw what he already expected: a phone tap. He glanced around the kitchen and found a camera under the cabinet above the fridge.
He walked into the living room. He found another camera and several more microphones. He figured it was a professional job. Clark wondered who would be behind it. And, more importantly, how long had Lois been under someone’s watchful eye?
He went back into the kitchen and picked up the glass of water for Lois. He walked into her room and set the glass on the table next to her bed. He took a deep breath. He figured any government agency wouldn’t videotape Lois’s bedroom, but he wouldn’t put anything past Luthor. If it was Bureau 39, they would probably want to catch Lois and Superman in the act. A chill crept down Clark’s spine at the thought of a possible third unknown creep watching her.
He picked up her medicine and easily opened the child safety cap, setting a pill next to the water. As he returned the bottle of pills to her dresser, he scanned her bedroom, finding another camera – pointed at her bed – and several more microphones.
To think he almost told Lois his secret the night before. If he had, more people than just Lois would know the truth. His eyes widened and he tipped over the pills.
Superman! When had been the last time they had met at Lois’s apartment? He quickly reviewed every moment Superman had seen Lois over the last few months and was relieved to discover that, except for the night she had almost died in the vault at the Gold Repository, all their intimate encounters had been on the roof, or elsewhere.
Clark would have to check her roof, and her car, and the Daily Planet. Oh, God! Were they recording him as well? No, he didn’t think so. He was sure to have discovered it if someone had messed with his apartment.
Lois came into the room and went directly to her pill and water, downing it. “Who was on the phone?”
“Perry. He wants me to go interview Inspector Henderson about Menken,” Clark said, skipping over the one detail that he knew would keep her from crawling back into bed. He quickly, but not too quickly, scooped up the pills and put them back in the bottle.
“I
guess you can handle that on your own,” she said, but the hint of the smile at the corner of her mouth told him she was only teasing.
Clark glanced over his shoulder and saw Lucy hovering, eavesdropping, just outside the door. “And I
guess you’ll survive without me for a few hours,” he teased back, closing the distance between them.
“The true question is, will you?” she retorted, only to get herself pulled into his embrace.
“Lucy’s right outside the door,” he murmured into her ear, by way of an excuse. “Superman stopped by while you were in the bathroom.”
He felt her draw in a breath at that information. He wished he could have his alter-ego fade into the sunset forever, but the man still had a job or two to do first.
“He wants to meet with you, but not here,” Clark continued. Then he pulled back from the hug, but didn’t let her out of his arms. “I’ll stop by at noon. Do you think you’ll be up for being taken out to lunch?”
Lois stared at him, breathless, and nodded. “I can do that. I’m sure I’ll be going stir-crazy by then.”
Clark didn’t doubt the validity of that statement. He smiled wistfully at her, wishing he could stay.
“That works for me,” Lucy called from the hall. “I have to be at work at one.”
He heard Lucy open and close her bedroom door. He and Lois were alone again. Well, as alone as they could be with an apartment full of surveillance cameras and microphones.
Lois raised a hand to his cheek. What was she doing?
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with stubble before,” she said, adding a grin and patting his face. “Miami Vice, you aren’t, Chuck.”
His brow furrowed. “Nope.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never watched Miami Vice?” she laughed, and then winced, grabbing her arm.
“Are you okay?” he asked, letting go of his hold on her.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, revealing the falsehood of that statement.
Clark pulled back the top sheet of her bed. “Come on, back into bed with you.”
Lois sat down and glowered at him, refusing to get under the covers. “What if I don’t wanna?”
“You’ll heal faster with more sleep,” he said.
“Is that scientific fact or an urban myth?” she countered.
“Tell you what, you can research it after a nap,” he said and held up a finger in warning. “Be good, and I’ll tuck you in.”
Lois stared at him straight in the eyes, daring him. “And if I’m not?”
Clark matched her gaze, moving only a few inches away from her and saying with a deadpan expression, “I’ll give you a spanking.”
Her jaw fell open. “I’d like to see you try.”
So would I. His smile grew into a full blown grin, and she moved back in the bed.
“In your dreams, Chuck,” Lois said.
And what nice dreams they are, Lois.She went to move the sheets with her right hand, only to scream out in pain.
“I said
I would tuck you in,” he countered.
“What am I? Five?” she growled, pulling the sheets out of his hand with her left hand.
Clark still came after her and tucked. As he kissed her cheek, he murmured, “Let me take care of you, Lois. It will take my mind off not taking care of you.” His face hovered above hers, close enough to kiss, yet knowing he should not.
“You better get going, Kent,” Lois said, her voice sounding breathless more than tired or irritable as it had before.
His gut tightened as he felt her breath on his cheek.
Not yet.Clark kissed her forehead, and called as he walked out of the room, “See you at noon.”
***
Clark didn’t officially meet Inspector Henderson until that morning. Superman had met him the night before. Lois obviously knew him before last night as she had mentioned him on more than one occasion.
It was weird dreaming of a man he had just met. Of course, his dream was more about his Clark self taking advantage of a drugged Lois before she went into surgery. The dream had felt so real that when he thought about it again on the way to the Twelfth Precinct, he had needed to remind himself that it had only been a dream, that it hadn’t really happened like that.
In the dream Lois was giving Clark a message to pass to Superman. Maybe
that was the aspect that had made it feel so real, being the designated middleman again. One moment Lois was telling Clark that she loved Superman (always nice to hear), and in the next breath explaining how she understood why Superman didn’t return her love. Was that how Lois really felt? That Superman hadn’t stopped the bullet because he didn’t love her? Clark didn’t blame Lois for believing that. To her, Superman was perfect, infallible, and a man who had told her on numerous occasions that he wouldn’t commit to her.
Was it easier for Lois to think Superman was cruel enough to let a bullet hit her as opposed to someone who made mistakes? Superman made mistakes.
All the time! Take Menken for example: Superman hadn’t known the man had been shot.
That was a mistake, a costly mistake, if it meant that Luthor slipped through justice’s fingers once more.
But Clark could see how Lois would come to the conclusion that Superman didn’t care for her like she did for him. Like Luthor, Superman hadn’t waited at the hospital either. No wonder Lois had given up hope on Superman ever loving her, and latched onto the one man who paid her one ounce of attention: Clark Kent.
He was jealous, he scoffed in disbelief. He was jealous of himself, angry at how easily Clark Kent had tempted Lois away from him.
Him! Okay, it hadn’t been easy and Lois hadn’t given up all hope of Superman loving her. The fact that she knew it was Superman kissing her in the dream and not Clark showed him where her true sentiment lay. Of course, it had been Superman, because Superman was Clark Kent. Even though Clark had told her he was only impersonating Superman, Lois had believed it was her man in blue.
Thank God it had only been a dream! Although, given his track record with Lois, he could picture himself doing something stupid like that to hide his secret.
If Superman left, told Lois goodbye and left, would Lois let herself have a relationship with Clark? Or would Clark be just the rebound guy, not somebody she would seriously consider? If she
did fall for Clark, would she ever forgive him for his Superman side leaving? How would he ever be able to reveal that side of himself to her?
Once again, he was reeling from the mess he had gotten himself into. Superman couldn’t abandon Lois even though it was
his fault that she had gotten shot, but how could he stay? How could he go off on a rescue and risk Lois’s safety again?
After waiting for twenty minutes at the Twelfth, Clark was finally shown back to Inspector Henderson’s office. The tall, thin policeman with the salt-and-pepper hair looked as exhausted as Clark would’ve felt if he had stayed up all night and been human.
Clark held out his hand, “Clark Kent, Daily Planet.”
The inspector shook his hand and then indicated the spare chair. “William Henderson. Have a seat, Kent. I’m glad you came by; you’re on my witness list,” he said, surveying him. “So, you’re the man who finally captured Wild Woman Lane.”
Was there anyone in this town who didn’t know that Clark Kent loved Lois? And what did he mean by ‘Wild Woman Lane’? “Excuse me?”
Henderson sat down. “The Menken article. You two wrote it together. I saw you at the hospital. If I had known you were her partner, I would have talked to you then. So, where were you when this whole kidnapping thing occurred?”
Oh. Captured as in a professional partnership. Clark felt a little less like he was dangling over Metropolis bare-bottomed. “Lois and I were just heading for dinner, to celebrate our new partnership, when Max Menken showed up in the lobby of the Daily Planet. He took her away at gunpoint. I then went to go find Superman to tell him what happened.”
Henderson leaned forward. “Isn’t it interesting in two different versions of this saga, two different men claim to be taking Lois to dinner?”
Clark scowled. “Luthor.”
“Yes, Lex Luthor.”
“He offered to take Lois to dinner and discuss giving her father a job at LexCorp or LexLabs or at one of his companies, but she already had plans with me. She turned him down,” Clark explained. He was more than a little proud that Lois preferred his company to Luthor’s enough to lie to the billionaire about it. Clark would go to his grave claiming that their plans were preset and that she hadn’t lied to Luthor.
“Uh-huh,” Henderson answered noncommittally. “Well, that would explain him shooting her in the alley, wouldn’t it? A lover’s spat?”
Clark stood up. “They aren’t lovers!”
Henderson nodded, and indicated that Clark should take his seat. “That’s what Ms. Lane told me last night when I interviewed her,” he said with a smile. “I heard through the grapevine that your partner has a weakness for powerful men.” He laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. “So, why would she turn down a date with Lex Luthor to go out with you?”
Clark crossed his arms, not liking that there were rumors about Lois and other, possibly super-powered, men. “Her taste is improving,” he suggested.
Henderson raised his eyebrow, and waited.
“We already had plans,” Clark said, refusing to give up this one point. “Luthor was being heavy-handed, telling Lois what she should and shouldn’t do. She doesn’t like that.” He was edging closer to the truth.
“Now,
that I can believe,” chuckled Henderson, relaxing.
Henderson paused long enough that Clark felt it time for him to interject his own questions into this inquiry. “I hear that Menken was shot with the same bullet that went through Lois’s arm.”
“We’re running ballistics now,” Henderson answered evasively. “Both Luthor and Lane claim that only one bullet was fired, so that’s our assumption.”
“Is that what killed him?” Clark asked, hoping that Menken’s murder could be tied to Luthor long enough to get the man off the streets.
Henderson sat up and glanced down at the files on his desk. “Inconclusive. We’re waiting to hear back from the autopsy.”
Clark could hear the inspector’s heart rate increase slightly. Henderson was lying. Had something or someone else killed Menken? He leaned forward. “Menken accused Luthor of being the money behind the cyborgs, of double-crossing him. Did he say anything about that to you?”
Henderson’s glance shot up, and he got to his feet, crossing quickly to shut his office door. Leaning against it, he asked, “Who told you that?”
A-ha, so Menken
did spill the beans on Luthor.
Clark wondered if Superman would want to be a secret source in this instance. He decided he would. “I have my sources. You said that Menken’s death was inconclusive. How? Was he killed in police custody?”
“There were extenuating circumstances,” Henderson mumbled, his voice low.
It wasn’t the bullet. “Such as?”
“I’m not at liberty to comment on an ongoing investigation, Kent.”
The man was dead; how was it an “ongoing investigation”?
Clark was getting annoyed by Henderson’s answers, or lack thereof. In his dream, Lois had said that Henderson was MPD’s finest. Was that true, or just his dream? He decided to assume it was true. “Lois swears by you as a straight shooter. Can’t you give me anything? Time and place his body was found?”
Henderson raised his eyebrow again, probably surprised by Lois’s description of him. His lips pursed in annoyance before he said, “Max Menken was found dead in his holding cell at 1:36 this morning.”
So, what annoyed him? Telling Clark, or the situation in which Menken was found?
“Holding cell? What was he doing in a holding cell if he had been shot?” Clark asked. “Didn’t anyone notice he had been shot before they booked him?”
“The Metropolis Police have no further comment on the subject at this time, and I have no further questions for you,” Henderson said, opening the door to his office and indicating that the interview was over. “You are free to go.”
Clark pulled out one of his business cards and handed it to Henderson as he left the office. “If you need a sympathetic ear to air your grievances to, on or off the record, let me buy you a coffee sometime,” he murmured as he passed the man.
He talked to a few more of his sources he had developed on the force since arriving in this Metropolis, but didn’t learn anything new. Menken was found dead in his holding cell.
When he returned to the Daily Planet, he contacted someone he knew at the coroner’s office about getting him a copy of Menken’s autopsy upon its release. Clark decided before turning in his nothing article to Perry, he would do some bare bones checking for a paper trail between Menken and Luthor.
Thinking of Luthor reminded him that Lois’s apartment was bugged. Clark had no proof it was the billionaire, but it had been extra suspicious – given Menken’s accusations – that Luthor had shown up at the Daily Planet when he had. True, Lois working late was typically a given, but not usually after breaking a big story or even on a Saturday night. Clark’s extracurricular activities meant he was often dashing off at odd hours of the day and night. His lack of a social life meant he also often worked late catching up on stories he hadn’t been able to finish because he had gone off on a rescue.
So why had Luthor come to the office in person when he had? Was it just a coincidence? Why hadn’t Luthor called Lois instead to set up a date? Had he just come by because he was concerned? Clark scoffed at that thought. Luthor ‘concerned’, ha! The man either didn’t want to lose his investment in Dr. Lane’s work due to the exposure to the light of day, or he wanted to make sure Lois was in the right place at the right time for Menken to kidnap her. The question again was why? Why would Luthor want Lois kidnapped? It didn’t make sense.
Even Clark knew he was jumping to conclusions, not substantiated by any facts.
Why would Luthor want to know what Lois was up to all day and all night? Was he that sick of a… ? Clark coughed instead of purposely think the word that best described the man.
Lois had gone out with Luthor several times over the last few months, but she hadn’t spoken about it, not to Superman nor to Clark. Had Lois grown closer to Luthor romantically? That thought left a bad taste in his mouth. Neither Lois nor Lucy had seemed overly surprised by the flower delivery. Was receiving bouquets in the early morning – probably before Lois left for work – something that regularly happened? Was Luthor a paranoid jealous man?
Well, Clark thought, he must have gotten an eyeful and an earful last night when Clark and Lois had kissed, and then when she had broken the kiss due to her love for Superman. At least there was no way for Luthor to know how much Lois meant to Metropolis’ hero. Clark pressed his lips together. He was jumping to conclusions again that Luthor was behind the surveillance. It could have just been as likely that it was Bureau 39.
They would have to discover the
who and the
why at a later date. If someone had placed bugs at the Daily Planet to watch Lois, where would they hide them? If he went over to her desk to examine it, and there were cameras there, whoever it was would know that Clark knew and the gig would be up. They would lose any element of surprise. He would have to check out Lois’s desk from his desk and make it casual enough that nobody would know what he was up to.
“Hi, Clark. How’s Lois?” Cat asked, wandering into his view of Lois’s desk.
“She’s home, resting,” Clark replied, trying not to sound annoyed by the interruption.
“Resting?” she scoffed. “Lois Lane doesn’t ‘rest’, unless…” A big grin spread across her face, and Clark could just see the naughty thoughts dancing around in her mind.
“Unless she was shot,” Clark finished her sentence for her. “We’re meeting for lunch.”
Sitting down on his desk, Cat said in her breezy way, “So, is it true? Are you and Lois official?”
He raised a brow at the question.
“Partners,” Cat rushed on to clarify, her hands raising in surrender. “It just seems sudden, being that last week she wouldn’t talk to you.”
“We’ve moved past that,” Clark said, jerking his head to the side and hoping Cat would catch his hint and return to her desk. She didn’t, so he tried to peer around her towards Lois’s desk.
“So, did she jump your bones?”
Clark’s eyes widened as he fell back into his seat. He couldn’t believe that Cat had said that, here, at work, in full view of… well, of the scattered people here on a Sunday morning. He placed a brave façade and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Lois and I are professionals, work partners.” Any hope of Cat just going away was dying with every second.
“So, that’s a ‘no’? Pity. After our talk last night, I was sure she would go for it,” Cat said, standing up.
Clark stood up as well to go check the office for surveillance, but Cat’s words stopped him. “Talk? What did you do?”
“I told her exactly what happened at my apartment that night you came over,” Cat purred, running her finger across his chest and flipping up his tie.
His teeth ground together. “Cat, nothing happened.”
“Exactly. That’s what I told her. I had to spell it out because, despite being a writer, Lois’s understanding of metaphor is zippo. Then she went into shock, so I literally had to spell it out for her,” Cat said with a roll of her eyes. “But now she knows that you and I are just friends, always were, and sadly will be for the foreseeable future.” She sighed dramatically.
Clark stared at Cat, his jaw hanging open. She had done it. After all this time, she had finally come clean to Lois? At her Cat caught the canary expression, he sputtered, “Thanks, Cat. I appreciate that.”
“I also told her that she needed to take you on the ride of her life, because the rest of us were tired of watching the two of you staring at each other across the newsroom like lovesick teenagers,” Cat finished, heading back to her desk, with a wiggle of her bottom, probably because she knew he was staring at her in disbelief.
He rubbed a hand down his face and decided that this was neither the time nor the place to contemplate if Cat was serious, or whether or not Cat’s suggestion had influenced Lois’s behavior, actions, or choices the night before. No, he wouldn’t allow his mind to dwell on the could’ve-beens. That was a subject for when he was alone.
Clark decided to focus his attentions on the task at hand: checking if someone was spying on Lois at work. First he looked over the conference room, the snack area, and then he returned to his desk. So far, so good. Maybe he was being overly paranoid. It
was his natural tendency with Lois. Perhaps Lois’s stalker had only targeted her at home. He picked up a file, leaned back in his chair, and focused all of his senses towards Lois’s desk. He found the camera located within the column behind Lois’s computer monitor.
He sighed. Sometimes he hated being right.
Who knew how long that camera or the ones in her home had been there? First things first, he needed to tell Lois that her entire life had been privy to some sicko’s viewing pleasure for who knew how long. That wasn’t a conversation he was relishing, especially since it was one she had to have with Superman; a man they both blamed for her being shot. That should be fun.
Clark figured he'd better gather up his notes and get Perry his story. Lois would be expecting him shortly to pick her up for lunch and to meet Superman. He typed up what he had into a story and walked it into the Chief’s office, closing the door behind him.
Perry looked at the story and tossed it back on the desk. “There’s nothing there.”
Clark shrugged. “Inspector Henderson knows something, but he isn’t talking,” he explained. He took a deep breath and forged ahead. “I have a source that says that Menken was accusing Luthor every which way but Sunday of being the money behind the cyborg boxers, and that Menken even said that it had been Luthor’s idea that he kidnap Lois.”
Perry reached back and turned down his Elvis music, before sitting up. He contemplated what Clark told him before responding, “What kind of source?”
“The best.” Himself.
His boss puckered his lips in thought. “Now Menken’s dead while being held in police custody, and they aren’t talkin’. Could be a hit, or just an accident currently being reviewed by Internal Affairs. Wasn’t Luthor aiming at Menken when he accidentally shot Lois?”
“The way I heard it, Lois karate chopped Menken at the same moment that Luthor fired his weapon,” Clark said.
Perry nodded. “That’s why she was hit. If she hadn’t done that, Luthor probably would have killed Menken in the alley and been Lois’s knight in shining armor.” He scoffed, “She saved Menken’s life. Fat lot of good it did him.”
A bad taste came into Clark’s mouth. All because Superman was three seconds late. He didn’t know which was a worse scenario: Lois being shot, or Lois gaga over Luthor for saving her. He looked down at the floor ashamed of his indecision. Lois being shot was clearly worse.
“I’d like to look into this, sir,” Clark said. He had an extra reason to see Luthor behind bars now.
“Of course, without Menken, whatever your source says would be considered hearsay and an accusation without proof,” Perry said, shaking his head. “Luthor’s lawyers will be all over that like ants to honey.”
“I know, but if I can find a paper trail…”
“I’ll be surprised if there is one,” Perry replied. “Poke around. See what you can find. Quiet like. Let’s see if you can find a corroborating source. One source doesn’t give us squat.”
“Right, concrete proof,” Clark said, nodding. “I’d like to bring Lois in…”
“No, not yet,” Perry advised. “That girl’s under enough stress as it is. She doesn’t need to think that Luthor was behind her kidnapping as well as her shooting. She’s liable to go off half-cocked and accuse him of something for which we have no proof. Either that, or go defensive of the bastard because we lack proof. Let’s hold off until we’ve got more information.”
Clark stood up, knowing the Chief was right but not feeling any better about the issue. He was keeping enough secrets from Lois already; his plate was full. At least he could reveal one secret: that someone was spying on her. Oh, joy. He glanced down at his watch. “I’m meeting Lois for lunch; maybe Menken told her something we can use.”
“Kent, I appreciate you working with Lois. I know she can be a handful, even more so now…” Perry started.
“My pleasure,” Clark said with a nod.
“Just make sure she doesn’t eat you alive, son,” his boss advised.
“Yes, sir,” Clark garbled, quickly leaving the office. He had been spending
way too much time with Cat.
***End of Part 34*** Part 35 Follow this link to
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Miami Vice was a TV show produced by Michael Mann for NBC from 1984-1989, and was well known for its main characters unshaved appearance.
