The elevator doors slid open, and Lois strolled into the newsroom, eager to get to work after what felt like a long weekend away from the office.
She had spent Saturday morning at her dojo, competing in some open gym sparring exercises, and then that evening she had been roped into a small party at her neighbor’s place.
She wasn’t really sure how she had wound up becoming friends with Star, a sweet but bizarre woman who claimed to be a psychic. At first Lois had just humored her and tried to be polite when they crossed paths in the hallway, but somehow over the last few months, Star’s cheerful friendliness had worn her down, and she had come to enjoy their occasional conversations.
The party had been a hodgepodge of Star’s friends, and the conversations had wandered from astral projection to alien encounters, and Lois did her best to bite her tongue and not point out how crazy these people were. Still, everyone had been welcoming and friendly, and it wasn’t the worst way she had ever spent a Saturday night.
Sunday had been spent running errands and cleaning her apartment, and she’d had to restrain herself a few times from popping into the newsroom while she was out just to “check on things”. Because there were no things to check on. Except for her email inbox.
Her eyes went to her computer and she increased her speed a little, crossing the room quickly and dropping into her seat. She booted up the computer immediately, no longer even pretending to herself that this wasn’t her first priority.
She clicked the email icon impatiently as soon as it appeared.
“You know, no matter how many times you click it, it’s not going to open until the computer’s finished booting up,” Jimmy teased.
Lois jerked her hand away from the mouse, embarrassed at having been caught.
“You expecting something important?” he asked. “Did you finally make some progress on that Intergang investigation?”
He lingered at her desk, waiting for an answer.
“No, no,” she said. “Not expecting anything. Just looking for something to bring to the morning meeting, so I don’t get stuck covering dog shows or something.”
Jimmy laughed. “Yeah, right. Like Perry would assign you to a dog show. I heard there was another fire last night.”
Lois paused. “That’s four,” she said.
Jimmy nodded.
“Has Perry assigned it?”
“Johnson’s down there now, but you know he’s just covering this fire. Perry’s not going to give him a big piece on the string of fires.”
Lois nodded. “I’ll see if I can find anything new before the meeting. Thanks, Jimmy.”
“No problem,” he said, making no move to leave.
She was dying to open her email, but she didn’t want to open it in front of him.
“Guess who I went out with this weekend?” he said finally, grinning, and she realized now why he was lingering. He wanted to wax poetic about his newest lady love.
“The girl from the coffee shop?” she guessed.
He nodded eagerly, and launched into an endless monologue about how gorgeous she was and the finer points of their date at a hot new club this weekend. When Perry hollered for him, and Jimmy went scurrying off, it was all she could do to keep from cheering.
Immediately, she turned back to her computer, wiggling the mouse to wake up the screen and clicking on the email icon. She tried to convince herself that her excitement to check her email wasn’t specific to him, that she could have any manner of interesting correspondence waiting for her.
But the second she saw his name in her inbox, she felt herself grin, and her cursor went straight to it, bypassing every other waiting message.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Hello
Date: April 28, 1995, 7:13pm
Oh, come on. Catcher in the Rye isn’t THAT bad. It’s a modern American classic that offers unique insight into the minds of teenagers. It’s a quintessential coming of age story. And, if nothing else, it offers interesting lessons in first-person narration and unreliable narrators
Okay, okay, I confess: Holden Caulfield is one of the least sympathetic characters in modern fiction. The book is twice as long as it should be and unbearably tedious. Holden is exhausting. It’s definitely my least favorite book that I teach.
As for my other classes, the juniors and seniors are working on writing projects currently – the juniors on personal essays and the seniors on their capstone projects. But the freshmen are in the middle of The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. Have you read it? It couldn’t be more different than Catcher in the Rye, and I’m enjoying that discussion far more. I’m always amazed by how insightful my freshman students can be. They seem so young, especially at the beginning of the year, but they always wind up surprising me with their observations.
I’m sorry to disappoint, but there was neither cow tipping nor corn mazes this weekend. (Really? Corn mazes? It’s April. We haven’t even planted the corn yet.)
Honestly, there’s not much in Smallville in terms of entertainment like you are probably used to in Metropolis. We do have a few restaurants, a little cafe, and a bar, but generally people drive to Wichita if they are looking for real entertainment.
I spent most of today at Pete and Lana’s house for Sophie’s birthday party. She turns six Tuesday, but we celebrated a little early. Lana doesn’t do anything half way, so she terrorized us all with her party preparations. But Sophie had a great time, and we all had fun once the party was underway. Two of Lana’s brothers still live in town, but the oldest lives in Kansas City, and he came in with his wife and youngest daughter, so it was nice to have everyone back together.
On Sundays, I always have dinner with my folks. When I was growing up, we would often skip family meals during busy seasons on the farm. My mom would bring meals out in the field, and we would just take a break and eat out there. But on Sundays, we all sat down to dinner at the table, no matter how far behind we were on planting or harvesting. It was an unbreakable rule. So now that I’m on my own, I still try to make an effort to come for Sunday dinners.
That’s my only real plan for tomorrow. I’ll probably try to get some papers graded in the morning. Maybe go for a run. My life is also very glamorous, so I’m not at all jealous.
What did you do over the weekend? Were you working, or did you manage to get out and have some fun? How’s your long-term investigation going?
Hopefully you aren’t stuck covering anymore fires — though I have to say that I find it interesting that you made sure to shower before Taekwondo (How long have you been studying taekwondo?) in an effort to spare the lungs of your classmates, but no thought was given to the lungs of your coworkers. You aren’t concerned about their lung health? That seems rather arbitrary. Or is it intentional? Trying to kill off your coworkers? I feel like the Pulitzer committee will frown on that when considering future awards.
Tell me more about taekwondo and your secret plan to infect your coworkers with a toxic lung infection.
Seriously, I hope you had a great weekend.
Clark
Lois did her best to stifle her grin, but she knew it was a dismal failure. She wanted to read through the email again, but she could see people starting to mill around the conference room and she knew she didn’t have time.
She skimmed through the rest of her inbox, seeing nothing important, and made her way to the conference room hurriedly before the only seat left was next to Ralph.
Two hours later, Lois was at the site of the fourth fire, trying to weasel past the caution tape.
“I see you, Lane!” Inspector Henderson barked. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Help me out here, Henderson,” she replied. “Give me something.”
He eyed her with irritation, then rolled his eyes and walked over. She smirked, certain that meant he had decided he would rather give her some information and get her off his back than put up with her constant attempts to sneak into the crime scene and find her own details.
“Off the record,” he said as he approached, holding up a chunk of wood that looked like it had once been part of a pallet. She nodded her acquiescence, and he pointed to a dark streak. “See that? Accelerant. The same marks were found at the other three fires.”
Lois nodded, not surprised. “And?” she said.
Henderson huffed. “And…it’s a unique pattern. It’s not splashed like you’d expect if someone was sloshing around a can of kerosene for example. It’s almost like….”
Lois looked at the long, thick streak of black that arced across the wood and knew exactly what he was insinuating. “It’s almost like it was sprayed!”
He raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying her conclusion, and walked back inside the burnt husk of a building.
Lois spent another couple hours taking notes and talking to investigators and witnesses, before heading back to the Daily Planet.
Johnson had the day’s story with basic details of the latest fire all sewn up, so she was free to spend the afternoon investigating the lead Henderson had given her rather than writing up a story. An arsonist or arsonists lighting fires with a spray accelerant brought one name to mind immediately. Lois had her phone in her hand before she was even seated, tapping out the number for the New Troy Department of Corrections.
While she waited on hold, an aggravating loop of tinny music blasting in her ear, she waved Jimmy down.
“What’s up?” he asked as he approached.
“Can you find out what happened to the Metro Club after Toni Taylor went to prison last year?”
“Toni Taylor? The babe that-” He reddened at her sharp look and cleared his throat before rephrasing. “Uh, I mean the woman that financed the Toasters? You think she’s linked to these warehouse fires?”
“I think she’s still in prison, though I’m waiting on confirmation of that,” Lois said, tapping on the receiver still propped against her ear. “But I want to know who took over once she was out of commission.”
“You think the Toasters are involved in these fires?”
Lois shook her head. The Toasters had been a gang of young, inexperienced kids. Until Toni Taylor had approached them and supplied them with their weapons and given them their marching orders, they’d been low level criminals with nothing more than petty thefts on their rap sheets. She had chosen them specifically because they were easy to control and manipulate, and Lois wasn’t interested in the arsonists themselves. It was the weapons she wanted to track.
Witnesses at the time had claimed to see all four Toasters sporting their high powered flame sprayers, but when they were arrested, they had only two of the backpacks in their possession. They had all claimed there were only two, and because eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable, most people assumed there had only ever been two, and that the witnesses were confused. Lois hadn’t been convinced at the time, and she had suspected Henderson shared her skepticism. Now she was sure of it. Whether or not those weapons were responsible for these fires remained to be seen, but it seemed pretty clear that Henderson suspected they were involved.
“I’m not interested in the Toasters,” she said. “I’m interested in their weapons. If there are two still out there, it seems likely whoever inherited the Metro club inherited them as well.”
Jimmy nodded and took off to work his magic just as the voice on the other end of the line finally returned and confirmed that Toni Taylor was still in custody and had received no visitors in the last six months.
Temporarily stalled until she got some information from Jimmy, Lois’ attention drifted back to the email icon on her computer screen. She clicked it and read through his email again, smirking at his take on Salinger’s book and then smiling affectionately as he described spending the weekend with his family, first at a six year old’s birthday party that she was sure she would find torturous, and then a weekly family dinner with his parents.
She cast a glance around and then hit the reply button.
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Hello
Date: April 30, 1995, 2:58pm
That was a close one. I was about two seconds from hitting the block button when you confessed. I am deeply relieved by your dislike of Catcher in the Rye. I will say though, that I generally love an unreliable narrator. Just not Holden Caulfield.
Yes, I’ve read The Things They Carried. I was skeptical of it because I don’t generally enjoy war stories, but the reviews convinced me to give it a try, and I’m glad I did. I love collections of short stories, especially interrelated stories like those. His writing is haunting, and his books made me reconsider a lot of my own assumptions about combat and soldiers. Have you read his new one? In the Lake of the Woods? The themes are similar, but it’s a completely different format with narrative chapters interspersed with evidence logs. It was one of the best books I read last year. If you haven’t read it, you need to. I need to hear your theory on what happened to Kathy so I can tell you how wrong you are.
More later about taekwondo and my diabolical plan to kill off my coworkers. (I am once again sitting at my desk reeking of smoke, as I just got back from the site of yet another fire.) But the research I asked for is here, so I need to get back to work.
Lois
Lois hit send just as Jimmy reached her desk, a thin stack of papers in his hand. “Here’s everything we have on the Metro Club. It’s not much.”
“Thanks,” Lois said, taking the documents from him. “Now can you get me everything you can find on the companies that own the warehouses that have been burned down? Parent companies. Board members. You know the drill. Let’s see if these attacks are linked.”
“You got it!”
Lois was deep in her research into the ownership of the warehouses, looking for a common thread that connected them, when she heard her email inbox chime. She glanced up, assuming it was Jimmy with more documents, and her heart leapt when she saw his name instead. She clicked it immediately.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:44pm
In the Lake of the Woods is a masterpiece, and everyone knows Kathy ran away and got lost and accidentally drowned.
Her jaw dropped, and she stopped herself from laughing out loud just in time.
Before she could think twice she hit the reply button.
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
Subject: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:46pm
You are delusional! Wade killed her during a flashback and dumped her body in the lake.
She sat still for a minute, waiting, and was rewarded almost immediately with a ding.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:47pm
No way! He was deeply disturbed, and certainly capable of committing murder in a fugue state. But there’s no way he could have murdered her, disposed of the body, and cleaned up without ever resuming consciousness. Besides she was terrified of him — of course she ran.
Lois shook her head, barely containing her laughter, and began to type.
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:48pm
Listen, farm boy, you seem to have forgotten it’s my actual JOB to investigate crimes and determine who’s responsible. Wade is guilty as sin.
She hit send and sat back in her chair, taking a sip of her cold coffee and wincing.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:50pm
You seem to have forgotten this is a book and not real life, and as a teacher of English literature, it’s MY job to analyze fiction.
She wasn’t about to let him get away with that.
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:51pm
Hello. Art imitates life. Clearly I have a better grasp on reality here.
The ding of the new email arrived almost immediately after the whoosh of her sent mail chime.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:52pm
Or maybe life imitates art? Are you still trying to murder your coworkers with your smoke stench?
She gasped and couldn’t hold back the laugh this time.
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:54pm
Look, I will have you know that the only reason I was concerned for my taekwondo classmates, is that we are in close proximity while we spar. If anyone at work puts their face in my hair, I will use those taekwondo skills on them, and their lungs will be the least of their concern.
“What is going on over there?” Cat asked as Lois hit the send button.
“Nothing,” Lois said quickly. “Just catching up on some emails.”
Cat looked at her skeptically. “Try again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lois said haughtily, picking up the stack of documents she had abandoned on her desk.
Her inbox dinged again, and Cat paused, fingers still on her keys, eyebrow arched.
Lois pretended to ignore the ding. She darted a quick glance at the screen, her leg starting to jiggle when she saw his name.
She looked up and saw Cat watching her, and looked back at the stack of papers in front of her, flipping through without reading anything.
The computer dinged again, and her eyes went automatically to the screen.
“Hot tip from a new source,” she lied, reaching for the mouse.
Cat scoffed loudly. “Whatever. I’m not interested in your boring emails anyway.”
Lois ignored her and clicked on the emails one after the other.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:56pm
Oh sure. That’s exactly what someone plotting murder would say.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 5:58pm
PS: I would pay good money to see you lay out a coworker who sniffed your hair.
Lois didn’t even bother to hide her laughter this time, and Cat gawked at her like she had three heads.
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 6:01pm
If that ever happens, I will be happy to take your money.
Have I mentioned that our resident gossip columnist’s desk is right next to mine? She can tell these emails aren’t work related and is staring at me suspiciously. I need to get back to work and stop just pretending to work while I wait for your emails.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 6:03pm
Fine. Go save the world. I have to be at a baseball game in a half hour anyway, so I should get going. I’ll send you a longer email later.
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 6:04pm
Baseball? Don’t tell me you coach that team too?
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 6:04pm
No, I swear. No baseball coaching. I’m just going as a spectator. Half the team is on my team too, so I like to go watch and support them when they have important games.
From: Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
To: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 6:06pm
Of course you do. Have fun. You can tell me all about it later.
From: Clark Kent [cjkent@aol.com]
To Lois Lane [lane.lois@dailyplanet.com]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Kathy
Date: April 30, 1995, 6:07pm
Count on it.
Lois rested her elbows on her desk, threading her fingers together and covering her mouth to hide her smile. She wasn’t sure exactly what had just happened, but suddenly she couldn’t wait for his next email.
