Home V: Obsession -- 11/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
Lori patted her rounded middle lightly. "Even if I wasn't trying to be careful on my own behalf -- which I am -- I have another reason to try to be careful. I won't take unnecessary chances; I promise."
Chow raised an eyebrow and glanced at Clark. "It's the way she hedges those promises that worries me. Do me a favor and keep an eye on her, Superman. She and Kent are the only reporters I've ever been able to stand. I'd hate to lose her."
Clark smiled. "I'll do my best, Lieutenant."
Lori got to her feet. "Give me some credit. I'm not an idiot. I want to stay alive at least as much as you want me to."
Velma grinned sardonically and raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you used to be taller, Lyons?"
**********
And now, Part 11:
"How would you like a pair of new earrings to go with your new shoes, honey?" Clark asked as they flew through the air toward the Daily Planet to reclaim their car.
Lori fingered the tiny pearls she wore in her earlobes. "What's wrong with these?"
"Nothing -- except that they don't have an emergency tracking device in them. Arnie gave me a pair that do -- and they look stylish, too."
"All right," Lori said. "As long as they look like something I'd wear to work, or out to dinner."
"I'll show them to you when we get to the car. I think you'll like them."
The parking tier was echoing and dimly lighted when they arrived. Security had been doubled since Carla's stabbing, and they were stopped twice before they made their way to the Jeep. Briefly, Lori wondered how the killer had gotten in and out so quickly, but decided that he had probably come in through an exit from the Daily Planet and probably gone out the same way. On the other hand, with the police setting up a security perimeter, it was doubtful that he had been willing to risk taking his knife out with him so he had probably discarded it somewhere on the premises, even if the police hadn't managed to find it. At least she hadn't heard about it if they had. On the other hand, Clark would probably know.
"Did the police ever manage to find the knife?" she asked.
"Not to my knowledge," Clark said. "I can't see our killer trying to take it out of here. Too much chance of being stopped and checked for weapons."
"That's what I thought. That means it's either in the parking tier or in the Daily Planet somewhere," Lori said thoughtfully.
"Probably. Maybe I should do my hover-around-the-building-and-x-ray thing," Clark said.
"Could you?"
"After you get in the Jeep and lock the doors," Clark said. "I should have done it sooner, but we've been a bit busy. I'm probably being paranoid, but the thought of a killer after you scares me."
"It scares me, too," Lori said. She triggered the door lock and opened the passenger door. "Didn't you say the police were watching Connor?"
"They are. I saw the report on Velma's desk just before we left. He was at the Marathon all day. Of course, his tail had no way of knowing about the assault on Carla."
"At least he's got an alibi," Lori said. "Maybe the tail will notice somebody following him -- or snooping around where he lives or something."
"Maybe. I don't want to count on it, though. Lock the door, and I'll be right back."
Lori obeyed, and then spent an endless time wondering what her husband was doing. When it seemed as if he had been gone for at least half an hour, she glanced at her wrist, only to discover that barely five minutes had passed. Still, five minutes was a long time for Superman to take searching a space as limited as the Daily Planet.
Almost on the thought, he appeared beside the car, spun in place, and Clark Kent opened the driver's door. "Nothing," he said.
"I guess you looked everywhere," Lori said.
He nodded. "I scanned the whole place. If it's here, it's invisible."
"Maybe the police found it," Lori said.
"I guess it's possible." He glanced at the area some thirty feet away, roped off by yellow tape, where Carla had been attacked. "Last I heard, they hadn't, though."
"How could the killer have got it out of here?" Lori asked. "They were using metal scanners on everyone leaving the place."
"That's a good question," Clark said. "I'll ask Velma about it when I see her next. In the meantime, let's go home. Connor will be there in about fifteen minutes."
"If we're going to make it, I think we're going to need a super-assist."
"Let's get out of the lot first," Clark said. "Then I'll give us a lift." He paused and slipped a hand into his pocket. "I almost forgot. See what you think of these."
Lori took the small box he handed her and opened it. The contents were a pair of delicate, gold earrings made of what looked like Black Hills Gold. "Arnie *made* these?"
"Yeah. One of them is designed to transmit an ultrasonic signal if anyone hits you with a stunner. Arnie had to be pretty specific, because you might not have a chance to scream. The other one will transmit sound. It's activated by my name -- spoken loudly. So if you get in trouble and can't yell -- like someone's holding you hostage -- say something like 'I wish Clark was here' or something. Got it? It will send me a homing signal."
"Okay." Lori examined the earrings for another moment, then removed her pearls and replaced them with the gold transmitters. "Let's hope I don't need them."
"You and me both," Clark said. He started the engine and backed out of the parking space. "I have the feeling that I'm missing something obvious," he said as he put the Jeep in forward, "but I haven't a clue what it is. I checked the whole area."
"Maybe it'll occur to you when you're not thinking about it," Lori suggested.
"Maybe, it will" he said doubtfully. "I hope so."
**********
Clark set the Jeep down in an alley two blocks from their apartment, and they drove sedately into the apartment house's security garage. A few moments later, they stepped through the door of their apartment in time to hear Connor's signal. Clark checked the closed circuit viewer and signaled the security doors to let him through. Moments later, he knocked on their door.
Lori opened it. "Hi Connor. Come in. Clark's just putting on the steaks. Would you like to stay for dinner?"
Connor entered and removed his jacket. "That depends," he said. "Is he a better cook than I remember you being? I nearly got indigestion at the Clarion's Christmas party when you brought the -- what was it again? The stuff with the powdered sugar."
Lori grinned. "Okay, so I was never an artist in the kitchen. I got by. Anyway, you don't have to worry about Clark's cooking. He could have been a chef if he hadn't wanted to be a journalist."
"In that case, sure," Connor said. "If you're sure it isn't an imposition."
"Not a bit. Medium rare, right?"
"That's right." Connor's smile faded. "Who got attacked, Lori?"
"I was going to explain that," Lori said. She raised her voice. "Clark! Did you hear?"
"Medium rare," Clark's voice said. "I hope you don't mind microwaved potatoes, Cooper. I'm not being fancy tonight."
"That'll be fine," Connor said.
"Come on in and sit down," Lori said. "The victim was our office intern; a girl named Carla Rhoads. Her parking space in the Daily Planet's parking tier is one row down from ours."
"But --"
"I said I was going to explain," Lori said. "I went to the gym this afternoon to talk to the staff and to look around, and when I left, someone followed me. Do you know anyone who works at the gym who drives a green Meteor?"
Connor shrugged. "I think Jake does," he said. "It's in the shop half the time. There's at least one or two in the parking lot most days. Of course most of the cars there belong to customers. Why?"
"The car that followed me was a green Meteor," Lori said. "I should explain that our intern is eighteen. She resembles me, and has a hairstyle like mine, and the attack was in the parking tier where the lights are a bit dim. Fortunately, I arrived in the elevator about the time it happened, and scared the attacker away. Superman was also passing by. He got Carla to the hospital, and we think she's going to be all right, but I think whoever it was actually was after me -- unless you know Carla."
Connor shook his head. "No, I don't."
"I didn't actually think you did." Lori flopped down on the sofa and put her feet on the sofa cushions. "Connor, I'm sure you've figured this out, but the killer is somebody you know. Probably somebody who works in the gym, or at least who sees you often. I suppose it might be someone who works out at the gym a lot, and who came to the Metro gym when you worked there."
"Yeah, I may not be real bright about this kind of thing, but I'd be an idiot not to put the clues together," Connor said. "I've tried to think who it could be, but none of the people I know would do this -- or at least, I can't imagine them doing something like this. I don't know who to trust anymore."
Clark entered the room bearing a tray of cut vegetables and dip. "Here. This should keep you going until dinner is ready," he said. He set the tray on the coffee table within Lori's reach.
Connor checked the tray and nodded. "I see Clark sees to it that you eat right."
Lori took a piece of broccoli and dunked it in the tub of dip. "Clark wants me to stay healthy. It's a good thing he's the main cook around here. My specialty is frozen dinners or take-out."
Connor winced. "I guess I'm not surprised. Anyway, what do you think I should do?"
"Well ..." Lori hesitated. "Try not to show any interest in *any* women for the moment. Don't even help an old lady across the street. Whoever this is seems to be getting pretty paranoid about you and women."
"I got that," Connor said.
"Besides," Clark said quietly, "I've come across people like this before. There's a chance that our killer will decide that you're being unfaithful to her -- or even him -- and that you're better off dead. There have been murder-suicides over obsessions like this before, so watch out. No matter how strong you are, or how excellent your physical condition, you're no match for a stunner."
Connor bit his lip. "I hadn't thought of that, but it makes sense," he said. "I've read about it happening. I just hadn't applied it to me. Thanks for the warning."
"Try to stay with people you know," Lori said. "At least two of them together. Even if one is the killer, it's safer. And don't go off into isolated places. Basically, try to take sensible precautions. After today, you can bet I'm going to."
Connor nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I don't know how you handle stuff like this as a daily thing. I think I need a drink."
Since Connor had never, within Lori's memory, ever touched alcohol in any form, that was quite an admission. She sat up. "We're going to get this person, Connor. I have another personal stake in this now -- besides just trying to help you. Carla nearly got killed today, and she's in the hospital right now. She was just an innocent bystander, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't like it when my friends get hurt. The other, of course, is that the killer is after me, too. I'm your friend and female. That's all that seems to matter."
"Yeah. I'm sorry I got you into this," he said baldly. "It never occurred to me that you'd be put in danger."
Lori shook her head. "Well, I can't say I'm thrilled about being the target of a psychopath, but whoever it is has to be stopped. We might as well take her -- or him -- on now before anybody else gets hurt or killed."
"Dinner," Clark remarked from the kitchen door, "is served. I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen, Cooper."
"Nope." Connor gave Lori a hand up from the sofa. "So," he said, obviously trying to change the subject, "is it going to be a boy or a girl?"
"We don't know," Lori said. "We want it to be a surprise."
Connor grinned slightly. "Don't blame you. When I get married someday, I'd like one like yours."
"Like ours?" Lori asked.
"Lifetime. My mom and dad had a five-year contract. You can imagine what it was like when my dad wasn't around any more. He sent her support payments for me, naturally, but try explaining that to a four-year-old kid."
"Didn't you get to see your dad?" Lori asked. The thought had never occurred to her, having been raised in a Traditional family, but now that Connor mentioned it, such a situation would tend to be rough on the kids.
"Yeah, on vacations, when he wasn't off on some big project in the asteroid belt or something. When I was seven, Mom got married again. Another five-year contract. She had my sister a year or so later, and after Jonnie was old enough to decide where she wanted to live, she went to Timbuktu to live with her dad. Mom was married again by that time -- no more kids, fortunately, but it made me decide not to get married at all if it wasn't going to be for life." He let Lori through the kitchen door ahead of him and followed her through.
"Can't blame you," Clark said. "Both of our families subscribe to that attitude, actually."
"Maybe you should introduce me to some of them," Connor said. "After all this other stuff is over, of course."
"Well, I've got a niece about your age," Clark said. "She's in Pre-Med over at New Troy State. Very nice girl."
Lori grinned. "Pretty, too," she added. "Brown eyes, dark brown hair, nice figure, a little taller than me -- and very smart. Her name's Meriel Olsen." She gestured to the table. "Have a seat. You can decide if Clark cooks a decent steak."
"It smells great," Connor said, taking his chair. Clark deposited a plate bearing a steak, potato and steamed broccoli in front of him. Lori had already taken her place and discovered, as she had expected, that Clark had cooked her steak exactly as she liked it. Her mouth began to water.
Clark grinned at her. "I just happen to have chocolate mousse for dessert," he said as he took his seat across from her. "If you think you can handle it."
"I'll make a stab at it," Lori said. "If you really want that drink, we can get you wine, Connor. If not, we've got tea, coffee, milk and soda. Take your choice."
"I'll stick with milk," Connor said. "Sorry about the attack of nerves."
"Don't blame you a bit," Clark said. "I've been having nervous attacks about Lori ever since I realized she was in danger."
"I can relate to that." Connor sliced his steak and raised his brows as the knife glided through the meat like butter. He took a fork full and chewed. "Lori's right," he said. "I've tasted a lot worse in good restaurants."
"Thanks," Clark said. "Go ahead and eat. You'll feel better after you've had some food."
"Probably." Connor was silent while he inhaled Clark's cooking. At last he sat back and loosened his belt.
"That's the best meal I've had in weeks," he said. "Do you give lessons?"
"Once in a while." Clark glanced at Lori. "I've even managed to teach Lori how to boil water."
Connor laughed. "Well, that's an achievement, I suppose."
"Hey," Lori protested. "I can scramble an egg; I can even fry one. I can toast bread. And I can make fudge."
"That's true," Clark agreed. "Lori is a survival cook. She cooks to survive."
Lori kicked him lightly under the table, but she had to admit privately that what he said was true. She could handle the basics, but cooking to her would never be anything better than an onerous chore. Clark, on the other hand, was an artist in the kitchen, which was just as well or they would have had to order out a lot more than they did.
Connor grinned. "Well, just as long as you have a system that works, I guess it doesn't matter who cooks." He glanced at his wrist. "I hate to eat and run, but I have to be at the gym at six in the morning."
"Sure," Lori said. "Just try to be careful, okay?"
He nodded. "I will. And I'll avoid dark alleyways." He stood up. "You said your intern's name is Carla Rhoads? Do you think it would be safe for me to send her some flowers? I feel pretty bad that she got caught in the fallout of this thing."
"Probably," Clark said. "As long as you make sure no one overhears you placing the order -- and you don't visit her until we catch the killer."
"That's what I'll do then," Connor said. He hesitated. "I guess I should thank you again for trying to help me, but that seems pretty inadequate. Just be careful, Lori. I'd never forgive myself if something should happen to you because of me."
"I will," Lori said.
**********
tbc
