Meet Sam Wayne
Part 11
By: C. Leuch
CJ’s thoughts were racing as he walked into the closet in the cave where his suit was kept. A small part of his mind was occupied with his case against the ARB, and the work he had done that day trying to determine if any of Wayne Enterprises’ prospective employees was an ARB plant. A much larger portion of his mind was chewing over his conversation with Jenny, and the fact that his in-laws now knew that she was involved with Sam Wayne. He had thought he’d made peace with the idea of revealing his identity to them; it was one of the many factors that he had considered when the opportunity to become Sam Wayne had presented itself. To keep his identity hidden would mean staying away from them, even after he and Jenny remarried, which would lead to a situation that wasn’t realistic or palatable. He could never ask Jenny to choose between being with him and never seeing her parents again, so he had figured that his secret would have to be revealed to them. There was no doubt in his mind that he could trust them to be discreet, to guard his secrets as if they were their own. In his naive optimism, however, he had assumed that the revelation would be smooth and problem-free, that they would accept the news with a smile and that would be it. Now, faced with the impending disclosure, he wasn’t so sure, and he found himself nervous.
Although he’d been on the receiving end of a revelation before, CJ had never had to be the one to break the news. Jenny knew the secret, sure, but she had figured it out by herself. Just trying to think of the right words to say, the proper way to frame the news when he told her folks was daunting. But if he thought about it, he recognized that he probably wouldn’t have to tell the Sears family anything. As soon as he walked into the room, they would immediately know the truth about who he was. Or would they?
As he slipped into the costume, CJ began to ponder how his sudden reappearance would appear in the eyes of Jenny’s folks. The fact that Clark Kent was Superman, and that his powers had been passed on to the next generation of Kent family, was at the heart of what would be revealed to the Sears family, but it would probably not even occur to them. When they saw Sam Wayne’s face for the first time, they would probably think that he was some sort of scam artist. Why else would CJ Kent take on the guise of the son of a famous billionaire? Why else would he be alive when he supposedly died in an airplane crash? There would be no way for them to know that CJ actually did go down with the plane, no evidence except for his word. Superman would probably be the furthest thing from their minds when they see him, and anger would probably be the kindest emotion to greet him. CJ wouldn’t be able to simply walk into the room, say hello, and expect them to understand. There would have to be a revelation before they even met Sam Wayne, and it would have to come from someone other than him. Once they knew that their son-in-law was in possession of superpowers, they shouldn’t be too surprised or angry when they see his face. In fact, they would probably be expecting CJ when they were introduced to Sam Wayne, and would hopefully greet him warmly.
So the initial meeting might not be so bad after all, with a little help from his family. CJ couldn’t help but wonder, though, as he wrapped the cape over his shoulders what would the Sears family think after everything had some time to sink in. The possibility of them seeing him differently, either because of his deception or because of his heritage, scared him more than he was willing to admit. He was used to the awe on the faces of strangers when they looked at their vaunted heroes, but with the exception of one former obsessed groupie, he’d never had to see how a friend would react when told that the people they thought they knew were also superheroes. The last thing he wanted was for the Sears family to regard him with that gape-jawed look of wonder that they gave the Supermen, the heroes that they didn’t know. Hopefully they would understand that he was still the person they thought he was, the person they had known for years prior to the plane crash, and that they had no reason to see him any differently than they had before.
In the meantime, there was still crime to fight, and that was what tried to turn his thoughts toward. CJ reached for his rather meager utility belt and wrapped it around his waist, fastening it with a click. Next, he reached for his cowl, the final piece of the puzzle, and pulled it over his head. Tonight, his sister would be meeting him atop the Gotham State parking ramp where they had talked her first night in town. She would be tagging along with him, helping him out, fulfilling her role as sidekick for the first time. The thought brought a half smile to his face, and helped to push away his pensive mood. He wasn’t exactly a pro at the whole hero gig yet, but he knew enough that he could pass along, little tricks of the trade that Bruce had given him. Besides, fighting crime with a little companionship was always fun, and he was definitely someone who reveled in the more enjoyable side of life. With a renewed sense of purpose and a spring in his step, CJ left the closet and headed for the car, but let out a yelp as he practically ran into his brother just outside the closet door.
“Jeez, don’t you knock?” CJ asked after he was able to catch his breath. He took a step back and reached up out of habit to run his hand through his hair, although the cowl stopped his progress.
“Sorry, but it’s not like this place has a doorbell,” Jon said, his amused expression causing a flash of consternation in CJ. “Besides, I thought the characteristic whoosh would serve as my announcement.”
“I was preoccupied, I guess,” CJ said with a frown. “I was kind of expecting you to call before showing up.”
Jon’s expression softened. “Well, Diane was out on a stake-out tonight, so rather than sit alone at home….”
“What, domestic life has become boring?” CJ asked, his good humor quickly recovering from the scare. He couldn’t stay angry, especially not when Jon left such a perfect opportunity for CJ to insert a personal jab. “Or is your couch really that uncomfortable?”
Jon placed his hands on his hips, laughed lightly, and turned his head sideways, a crooked grin on his face. CJ smiled and waited for the response, which came a moment later. “Let’s just say that I have a lot more fun with my wife around,” Jon replied as his eyes locked into CJ’s. The context of the comment was very plain on Jon’s face, and CJ found his cheeks growing warm. They smiled at each other for a moment, then CJ shook his head.
“I can sympathize with you there, believe me,” CJ said, taking a step to the side, then starting toward the center of the cave, gesturing for Jon to follow him.
“Might I add that I don’t see you in that big mansion parked in front of a television,” Jon said as he turned and fell into step behind CJ.
CJ waved his hand dismissively. “I find it’s a lot more fun to make the news rather than watch the news. And most fiction has nothing on my life story.”
“Very true on both counts.”
They walked in silence for a moment, then CJ looked over his shoulder as best he could while wearing the bulky cowl. “So you never did say why you’re here. Come to watch the action? I’d offer you the vaunted sidekick position, but it’s already been filled.”
Jon arched his eyebrows. “Let’s just say I was in need of a good laugh, and the first thing I thought of was taking a trip out to Gotham City to see my brother.”
CJ smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to face forward again. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”
“Let’s just keep the mystery, shall we?” Jon said.
“And here I thought I was the mysterious one.” They approached what was now served as the new batmobile: a black car with heavily tinted windows, but otherwise outwardly unremarkable in every way. He could never figure out the point of owning a vehicle so gaudy and unique that everyone immediately recognized it. It could never be taken to a mechanic, could never be driven on the streets without everyone knowing who was behind the wheel and wondering what he was up to. CJ figured that it was better to fade into the background, to use his car as part of the disguise. Even though it had a plain exterior, the engine was anything but. There were ten cylinders under the hood, enough to make even the novice car aficionado drool. CJ had quickly decided that he liked the fact that his unassuming car could easily beat about any other car on the road, including police vehicles. In a way it was like flying, only closer to the ground.
CJ stopped walking, look a long look at the car, then turned toward Jon. “Care to take a ride? You probably have news and I’m running late….”
“Hot date?” Jon asked, his smile almost wicked. “I’ve been in the middle of your dates with Jenny before, and if that’s going to be the case again, I’d like to know ahead of time so that I can supply the bucket of cold water.”
CJ smirked. “I’m meeting Laura, thank you, and although the tabloids have declared us an item…”
“Ick.”
“…you can’t believe everything you read.” He sighed, then gestured toward the car. “I can’t guarantee comedy, but maybe you’ll end up with a few chuckles at my expense. No promises, though.”
Jon smiled and nodded. Without another word, they climbed into the car and started toward town. Jon looked around, then raised his eyebrows as he caught sight of the dashboard. “I might be seeing things, but does the speedometer really go to 220?”
CJ smiled and nodded. “I got it over 100 once, and the pedal wasn’t even close to being floored.”
“Jeez, this thing looks like something you’d see grandparents riding around in.”
CJ’s smile became crooked. “He manages to convince others that he’s two different people, but can still be fooled by appearances.”
Jon shot him a dirty look, then settled down into the seat and relaxed. “Mind if we talk a little business for a while?”
“I suppose not.”
The needle on the speedometer ticked upward as CJ accelerated through the tight curves on the secluded road leading out of the Gotham hills. He knew that he was probably showing off, but his brother didn’t seem fazed by the speed. “There I was, having a fairly pleasant weekend interrupted by the occasional patrol over the Atlantic Ocean, but for whatever reason I couldn’t stop thinking about your case. The potential to build a fairly solid argument against those nuts at the ARB was just too tempting to resist, especially since it seemed like the light was shining brightly at the end of the tunnel. So, when the wife went out to do some shopping, I found some time to research just what kinds of things occurred in the cities that your pal Ross has lived in.”
“And?”
“And, bad stuff happens all the time in bad cities; I don’t think I need to tell you that. Aside from the random violence and obvious crimes, there are fires, floods, and accidents…things that are generally attributed to chance, things with no perceptible cause. In places that are so overwhelmed with other problems, it’s easy for these apparent accidents to be dismissed after a rudimentary initial investigation, but it doesn’t take much imagination to see how a lot of these things could be the result of more sinister circumstances. You could go crazy delving into the specifics of each case to look for that one missed clue that would prove foul play. I value my sanity, though, so I decided after digging into a couple cases to pull away and try a different strategy. I couldn’t help but wonder, what would happen if I took all the so-called accidents and cross-checked them with the companies on the ARB hit list?”
“A lot of coincidences, I’d imagine.”
“You would imagine correctly. Granted, some really might be coincidences, and there were plenty of other things that had nothing to do with any company that the ARB is interested in. I have no doubt, though, that a fair number of the things I found really are linked to the ARB or to Ross. When we get a chance to slow down, I’ll let you peruse the file, but suffice to say, there’s more than enough to convince even the biggest skeptic that something funny is going on.”
“So, basically, you found what we were looking for,” CJ said, his heart pounding rapidly at the possibility.
“In a nutshell, yeah. But there’s a little more to it than that. After really taking a close look at all the things they might have done, I began to realize that, as time went on, the magnitude of their apparent incidents seemed to grow.”
“How so?” The tires of the car screeched as CJ whipped onto another street, the interstate leading to the heart of downtown now within view.
“About 5 years ago or so, some companies on the list reported vandalism. That’s probably nothing that would normally stand out at first blush, but the culprit was never found and the incidents corresponded with one of the cities Ross purported to be in. Then, a year or so later, another targeted company in another of Ross’s cities reported a fire at its headquarters, which caused some sizable damage. From there, more things happened to different companies, suspicious accidents that caused exponentially larger damage, almost as if each new incident was building upon the previous one. Then, a targeted oil company in Texas found its whole refinery on fire, ostensibly as the result of yet another accident, although most people don’t believe that it was. Top scientists could never quite figure out how something like that could happen without some help, given the safety systems that the refinery was required by law to have. No real evidence of foul play was ever found, though. It seems like a refinery blaze would be hard to top, but then came your plane crash. Makes me wonder what they have planned for Wayne Enterprises.” CJ made a turn onto the interstate, then really stepped onto the accelerator. Jon squinted and turned toward CJ. “How you haven’t been pulled over for speeding yet is a mystery to me.”
CJ grinned and pointed to his eyes. “Don’t tell me that you don’t pull down the glasses every once in a while to check for cops when you drive Diane’s car. It’s hard to fall victim to a speed trap when you can literally see it coming a mile away.”
“For one, Diane’s car would be vibrating itself apart once it hit this speed. And for another, if I was in that much of a hurry, I would have other ways of getting there,” Jon answered as CJ eased into the fast lane and started passing other vehicles as if they were standing still.
“Speak for yourself,” CJ muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “So are you going to publish what you found? Seems like the ARB is firmly in the public crosshairs since Dad found that detonator.”
“I don’t know if they are, at least not yet,” Jon answered. “All the detonator proved was that the Metro Air accident was no accident. Nobody knows where it came from or how it got on the plane, but I’m sure that will come with time. I know Mom and Dad are doing some serious digging into that, and you know how their investigations usually turn out.”
At CJ’s nod, Jon continued. “I think people are aware that the ARB protested Metro Air before the crash and were unsympathetic, even celebratory, afterward. But will anybody honestly believe that the ARB has any connection the crash? Doubtful. So, yeah, I’ll publish an article pointing out all the bad luck that has befallen the companies under scrutiny of the ARB, including Metro Air. The story will hit the high notes and leave out some of the smaller, less obvious cases that I found, as well as the correlation between the accidents and certain cities on which we outwardly had no reason to be concentrating. You have to wonder, though, if someone else will build upon what I write, try to draw more connections to the ARB, and find those smaller incidents by themselves.”
“I hope they do,” CJ said. “The more people who figure out that these guys are bad news, the better the chances that they’ll believe it when this Brad Ross guy gets fingered for the plane crash. Maybe it’ll force Ross’s hand on whatever he’s planning at my company, too.”
“Getting impatient?” Jon asked casually. CJ whipped the car over several lanes, and headed for the exit to the Gotham State University area.
“Yes and no. We have these guys in our crosshairs right now. Four people – you, me, Laura, and Dad – are devoting a great deal of time to making sure that they go down for that plane crash. As time goes by, the intensity will fade away, and we will all move on to other things. The ARB will end up striking when we’re not prepared, and then what will happen? If we make them feel the heat now, there’s a chance that they’ll rush to do whatever they’re going to do. In their rush, maybe they’ll get sloppy, and maybe, with all of us working on this, we’ll even catch them before anyone gets hurt.” CJ sighed and slowed down, turning his attention briefly toward his brother. “All I want is to stop them before they hurt anyone else.” He looked back toward the road, but not before seeing an expression of sympathy on Jon’s face. The statement echoed in CJ’s ears as they traveled in silence, the raw emotion in his own voice causing a frown to form on his face.
CJ never used to think of himself as the type of person who could be ruled by his emotions. Even the most traumatic experiences in his life didn’t seem too terrible in hindsight, if only because he had always been able to eventually laugh them away. Maybe it was the result of some sort of naïveté, a built-in pair of rose-colored glasses, or maybe he just thought that there were better things to do than be angry all the time. Whatever the reason, he could look back on his life before the accident and smile at all the memories, good and bad. But since his old life was taken from him, he found himself succumbing to darker moods. Sure, he still looked at the sunny side of life whenever possible, but sometimes, when his thoughts turned to the plane crash or to the events surrounding it, he would become lost in thought, brooding…grieving. It was hard not to mourn the life he had lost, even if his current existence had so many blessings. But all the money, fame, and success in the world couldn’t make up for the fact that he could never go home again, never quite be himself again.
There would always be some small part of him that would be left in the depths of the ocean, a part that died along with all his fellow passengers when that plane hit the water. That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t make the most of the life he had, or that he couldn’t go back to being the positive person he once was. Maybe his innocence was gone, maybe his rose-colored glasses had lost their tint, but he still had his sense of humor and an overwhelming belief that everything that happened in the world happened for a reason. As long as he was aware of how the accident affected him, he could do his best to make sure that it didn’t permanently change him, if only for the sake of his loved ones. He would work hard to make sure that Jenny and their child would not also be victims of the ARB’s actions.
“Better watch out. If you use that tone out in public, Batman just might get a reputation for being dark and brooding.” Jon’s voice was teasing, and CJ couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. “If it means anything, I’ll do everything I can to help make sure these guys go down before they can do any more harm.”
“I know you will.” CJ said. As annoying as his brother could sometimes be, when it came to fighting crime or helping the innocent, there was never any question about where his priorities were. CJ and Jon had a fair amount of common ground, as much as CJ hated to admit it. “You do realize, of course, that Batman is going to take all the credit for saving those lives and bringing in Ross,” CJ said, hoping to inject a note of humor into a conversation that had grown awkwardly serious.
“As long as I get all the credit for being the reporter brilliant enough to figure it out before Batman did, then I’m fine with that,” Jon answered, a fair amount of smugness in his voice.
CJ was grinning as pulled into the ramp and guided the car up several levels until he found an isolated spot to park the car. As CJ cut the ignition, he turned toward his brother and regarded him for a moment. “So will you at least mention me when you win the Pulitzer for your work on the case?” His expression made it clear that he was teasing.
Jon stuck out his lower lip and shrugged, trying to hide a smile. “No promises. Of course, you’re assuming that hell is going to freeze over in the meantime.”
“Well, since we are in the land of the walking dead, I’d say that anything is possible, even a big award for you before pigs go flying cross the sky.”
“I’ll BE one of the walking dead if I win the Pulitzer before Mom.” They both laughed, but as the laughter died down, CJ caught himself looking around, hoping that nobody else was present in the ramp. It wouldn’t do for two normally stoic superheroes to be caught acting so completely out of character. Jon apparently had the same thought, and CJ could see him forcing the smile off his face. After a moment, they looked at each other, nodded once, and exited the car. It was time to get down to work.
***
Laura leaned against the concrete railing of the parking garage and sighed. Her brother was now a good ten minutes late, and although usually she wouldn’t be too surprised or annoyed at the fact, it was hard to ignore the sheer dullness of the Gotham State area at the moment. Like any teenager, she supposed that she held some unrealistic notions about what actually happened in college towns. She had always imagined non-stop parties at neighborhood fraternity houses, sidewalks teeming with interesting and intelligent people, and coffee houses with outdoor porches populated by folks having intellectually stimulating discussions. It didn’t help that most of her exposure to college life had come on football game days or weekends, times when the stereotypes were more likely to be true. The reality, as she was finding out, was that summertime brought vacant sidewalks and nearly vacant apartment buildings, coffee houses which closed early, and more hobos on the street than students. At least she still had Brad Ross to watch, she thought with a sigh, turning her attention to Ross’s current location, a moderately busy bar a couple blocks away.
A car made its way down the lonely stretch of road below as she turned her attention to Ross’s apartment. By now, she knew every nook and cranny of that place by heart. At the drop of a hat, she could rattle off the contents of his bookshelf, give the number of packages of ramen noodle soup in his cupboard and, oh yeah, recite the bomb making instructions that were kept at the bottom of a large pile of papers on his desk. Joining the instructions in the pile were numerous articles on Wayne Enterprises and Metro Air, some newsletters from fringe anti-business political groups, and scratch paper with scribbled phone numbers and notes. She had long ago recorded the information in her notebook, along with a few personal comments, although the information hadn’t been forwarded on to CJ yet.
Laura’s hand reached for her cellular phone, her more impatient side wondering who would answer if she called one of the numbers in Brad Ross’s pile. Even as her fingers brushed against the phone, she stopped herself, knowing that the last thing she wanted was to put her cell phone number in the caller ID of a potential murder suspect. With a sigh, she clenched her hand into a fist and wondered for the umpteenth time what was holding up her brother. As if on cue, two very familiar voices reached her ears from not very far below, followed by raucous laughter. She rolled her eyes as the two imitated hyenas for a second before exiting the car.
Jon was at her side in mere moments, leaning nonchalantly against the barrier rail as if he had been there for hours. “I see that the sidekick life is filled with non-stop excitement,” he said as she turned toward him, and she had to smile. His sense of humor always seemed to assert itself more strongly when under CJ’s influence, a fact that she found interesting considering how much the two of them had always been at each other’s throats as kids.
“At least I get to meet exciting heroes on a regular basis,” she said, her eyes moving toward his chest. It never ceased to amaze her that it was her brother behind the spandex. As she grinned at him, he apparently noticed her outfit for the first time.
“Hey, you’re wearing Diane’s old suit. It looks good on you.”
Laura blushed slightly. “You think so?”
“Sure,” Jon answered. “It also compliments the wardrobe of Mr. Sunshine over there,” he said, pointing his thumb toward CJ, who was quickly making his way toward them. CJ smirked at the words, making it obvious that he heard the remark.
“Better black than loud,” Laura answered. “How Dad goes out in that suit every night is beyond me. The powers make you stand out enough, you don’t need a bright blue suit to get attention.”
“Amen to that, sister,” CJ said as he approached. “So, what did I miss?”
Laura waved toward Brad Ross’s apartment. “I think I saw some paint peeling in Ross’s apartment while I was waiting for you to get here. That’s about as exciting as it gets around here.”
As Jon turned toward the apartment, CJ’s smirk morphed into an easy smile. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not thrilled with keeping watch on Brad Ross?”
Laura shook her head and smiled. “Is it that obvious?” As CJ nodded and raised his eyebrows, she continued. “Even if it is boring, it’s at least bearing a little fruit. You know, he has enough bomb making literature and equipment in that apartment to get him sent up river for a long time.”
CJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Unfortunately, cops need more than just the word of a couple people with x-ray vision to get a search warrant and do something about the situation.”
“It’s called reasonable suspicion,” Jon said. “And, wow, you weren’t kidding.”
“Nobody’s going to go in there until Ross does something to make the cops act…like actually planting a bomb. And that’s why we’re watching him.” CJ’s tone became more disgusted with each word. Laura smiled, hoping that that, along with a little good news, would help chase away the sour mood.
“If it means anything, I scribbled down a bunch of phone numbers that were on papers connected with the bomb making stuff. I think I might’ve found some clues to his real identity, too.”
CJ sighed, his half-smile retuning. “That’s great to hear,” he said.
Laura looked at him anxiously, then nodded toward the general campustown area. She had been saving the best news for last, and she was sure her brothers would turn interesting colors upon hearing it. “I think I also found your baggage handler.”
She had been right, Laura thought with amusement as she noted the pallid hue that their complexions had taken. Both Jon and CJ were now looking at her intensely, practically in shock. “You did?” CJ asked, his expression practically begging her to continue.
Laura pointed to the bar where Ross was hanging out. “Yeah. His name is, uh, Simon Armstrong. He met up with Brad Ross at a bar about half an hour ago. They just got started on a game of darts.”
Although he appeared lost in thought, CJ followed her gaze, then turned back toward Laura and Jon. He stared at them blankly for a moment, then seemed to grow taller, a decisive expression on his face. “I have an idea,” he said, any hint of surprise or humor completely missing from his voice. With a curt nod, he was gone, taking off across the parking deck at a full run.
“What…?” Laura asked toward his retreating form. She then looked questioningly toward Jon, who just smiled.
“If you haven’t seen his imitation of a surfer dude yet, then you’re in for a real treat,” he said. He sauntered up to the railing and casually leaned against it. “It’s an undercover part he plays when he goes to ARB meetings.”
“Really?” Laura asked, taking note of the amused expression that Jon held as he looked out toward the bar.
“His act is so real, you’d almost swear that he was a beach bum and not just playing the part.”
“Well, something tells me that for CJ, sometimes the part of gnarly party dude isn’t too far from the truth,” Laura said, settling in next to Jon. They made some small talk for a while, mostly getting caught up on the news from back home, until they saw a solitary, blonde-haired figure emerge from the parking garage stairwell and make his way toward the campustown bars. He looked over his shoulder once, located the pair at the top of the garage, and gave them the thumbs up before entering the bar where Brad Ross and Simon Armstrong were.
One thing that Laura had always admired about CJ was his ability to comfortably fit in with anyone in any social situation. He could coax an introvert out of his or her shell or BS with a salesman; talk politics or philosophy just as easily as he could engage in even the most inane conversation. All of it was done without sounding patronizing or disinterested, and Laura suspected that it was because he genuinely did enjoy talking with people and being in all those different situations. His social skills were no doubt inherited from their father, who, despite being an alien in more than just the literal sense, always seemed to seem at home with all walks of life. Laura and Jon tended to be a little more socially awkward, although that certainly didn’t mean that either was shy. Still, in situations such as the one in which CJ was now placed, it was amazing to see how easily he could charm conversation even from someone who he suspected to be a killer.
Laura and Jon watched as he approached Ross and Armstrong, saying that he recognized them from an ARB meeting. They appeared to take his persona at face value, and allowed him to join them. He quickly settled in and gained their trust, his more liberal persona so convincing, even Laura had trouble seeing her brother beneath it. After engaging the men in some fairly mundane conversation, CJ gradually tried to steer the discussion toward potentially damning political topics, mentioning a few of the more radical ARB beliefs in an attempt to bait the men into agreeing or elaborating, but to no avail. Although nothing incriminating was said, there were plenty of other…interesting topics discussed. During some of the more bizarre rants by either Ross, Armstrong, or CJ, Laura couldn’t help but let snide comments slip, often drawing a sideways glance from CJ. From time to time, Laura and Jon would discuss something mentioned in the bar, and Laura would watch with interest as CJ stared at them, apparently wanting to chip in but not able to.
After the better part of half an hour and at least one pint of beer, CJ jumped slightly and reached for his back pocket, telling his companions that he had a call coming in on the cell phone. He dismissed himself from their company, moved to an empty stool at the end of the bar, and pulled out his phone. Through the walls of the bar, Laura could see CJ’s eyes lock into hers as he placed the phone against his ear. “Talking with those guys is worthwhile if it means getting some juicy information, but they seem dead set on keeping any wild plans they might have to themselves. At this point I think I’ll probably break a pool cue over one of their heads if I hear one more oddball rant, so….”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Jon said, eliciting smirk from CJ. “Still, maybe after a few more beers they’ll loosen up.”
“I’ve been around a lot of drunks in my day, and I can tell you that all a few more beers will do is send them praying to the porcelain god. They’re already pretty far in the bag. I’m not going to get anything useful tonight.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do than stick around there,” Jon answered, glancing at Laura, who nodded eagerly. She had been promised a night of real crime fighting action, and the night certainly wasn’t getting any younger. Watching CJ morph into some sort of beach bum was entertaining, but she wanted to move on to something more interesting.
“You are, of course, correct. I’m going to get out of here.” CJ kept the phone held to his ear as he turned and found Ross and Armstrong, holding his hand up in greeting. When they found him, he pointed to his phone and shrugged, then gestured toward the door, apparently indicating that he had to go take care of whatever the person on the other end was calling about. They shooed him away and quickly returned to their conversation, leaving him free to go. “So what did you think?” CJ asked as he walked out the door and onto the practically deserted street. “Even if the absence of damning statements, are those our guys?”
“Yeah,” Jon and Laura answered emphatically, in unison. They looked at each other, grinned, then turned back toward CJ.
“They came off as a few donuts short of a dozen,” Jon said, bringing a smile to CJ’s face. “I could believe that people like that are capable of just about anything.”
“The problem is, most of the time guys like this don’t follow through on the kooky things they say. They talked big tonight about how they would like to replace all the white paper in town with pink paper, so that people would stare at it all day, then see the world in shades of green…”
“That one was particularly kooky. And, hey, someone paid attention to the color wheel in art class.”
“Something tells me they won’t follow through on that threat,” CJ finished. “Then again, Ross didn’t have that look in his eye when he said that.”
“We know enough to believe that they’ll say or do something incriminating at some time, though, right?” Laura asked, bringing nods from her brothers.
“Armstrong talked about getting started at his new job soon,” CJ said. “One guess as to where that is.”
“Someone needs to follow him. It would save you the work of hunting him down from the inside,” Jon said. Both Jon and CJ looked toward Laura, who put up her hands defensively in response.
“There are two guys to watch and only one of me. If they’re both as dangerous as you guys say, then I can’t go after one and not the other.” As she spoke, Laura crossed her arms in front of her and looked at Jon, raising her eyebrows. There were other superpowered beings in town who could manage such a chore, and Jon apparently knew it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, his tone light. “I have a boss who expects me in the office first thing in the morning. Besides, this is your investigation,” he said, looking toward CJ.
“You’re right,” CJ said evenly. He didn’t appear to be frustrated or upset at the situation, a fact that bothered Laura for a moment, until she saw that, although he still appeared to be looking at her, his eyes weren’t really on her. He was looking past her, she realized. As she was about to look over her shoulder, CJ held up his hand and pointed into the distance. “I think I know someone who will help us out.”
Both Jon and Laura looked toward where he was pointing and noticed a solitary shadowy figure crouched down on a neighboring building, a pair of binoculars held up to his eyes pointed in their direction. In less than the time it took to gasp, Jon was gone.
“Don’t overreact,” CJ said as Jon disappeared. As he recognized that his words came too late, he sighed and lowered his phone. “He’s not a bad guy,” he added quietly.
“I’ll tell him, Laura said, bringing a grateful smile from CJ. With that, she also took off in the air, bound for Jon and the mysterious stranger.
