Thanks again to Nancy for reading this over for me. And once again, in case you happen to forget, flashbacks are outlined in ***
PART SIX
“Memory?” Dr Charles Winslow asked in a voice that I guessed to be about an octave higher than usual. “That’s a rather broad field to be asking about. I can’t really-”
“Can you at least tell us who some of the leading researchers are?” Lois asked resolutely.
“Well,” he stammered as he cleaned his glasses with a paisley patterned handkerchief. “I suppose if you take into account the most recent breakthroughs and subsequent research grants, the leading researcher in the field of memory would be… well, me.”
“Great,” I commented. “Then you’ll be able to help us out.”
Dr Winslow smiled indulgently at me. “Miss…”
“Turner,” I supplied.
“Miss Turner. The field of memory is so infinitely vast and complex. There’s no way that I could explain it to you in terms you’d understand.” He nervously passed his handkerchief over his slick forehead. I sensed that he was prevaricating, and Lois must’ve picked up on it too because she gave him a brilliant smile and leaned forward in her seat.
“I’m sure you could explain it to us,” she said flatteringly. “You must be an excellent teacher.” Even though she was well into her fifties, Lois still had more than enough charm to squeeze the information from the elderly doctor. He openly stared at her for a moment, and then relented.
“Memories of specific events in a person’s life are created in the hippocampus,” he explained. “They are then transported to the cerebral cortex in the form of clusters of neurons.”
“That creates incidental memory,” Lois commented.
Dr Winslow nodded in response. Happy that someone was following his teaching, he continued with more enthusiasm. “These memories store information on the people you know, the places you’ve been, and any other incidents that make you who you are. It’s always been my dream to discover a way to interpret another person’s incidental memories, yet we’re still very far from ever doing that.” He paused hesitantly for a moment. “But recently,” he continued, “we have been able to detect the age of these memory neurons within the brain in a completely noninvasive way. By using this technology, we are able to isolate memories formed in a certain time period with incredible accuracy.”
“That’s amazing,” I praised. “So what do you do with those neurons once they’re isolated?”
“Any number of things,” he answered, deep within intellectual ecstasy. It was the same with many researchers. Give them even a hint that you may be interested in their field and they’ll spend the next decade regaling you with more detail than you’ll ever want to know. It appeared that his original reluctance to speak had been forgotten. “Imagine the therapeutic uses in being able to isolate memories,” he told us excitedly. “Not to mention the general benefit for the scientific community in being able to get a clearer map of brain function. In the years to come I hope to discover many uses for this technology.”
“I imagine that would take a large amount of cash. Where do you get the funding for all of this?” Lois asked.
“It can be difficult to get the necessary funding,” he told us. “Many of my colleagues struggle to find organizations willing to put forward money without some guarantee of success.”
“Have you been able to secure funding, Dr Winslow?” I inquired innocently.
“Yes,” he spoke with enthusiasm. “In fact, there have been quite a few companies that have expressed interest…” His voice faded off and he seemed to reconsider what he was saying. “Suffice it to say that there has been some interest,” he finished. The change in attitudes was palpable. Any trace of the openness he shared was completely erased. “Now if there was nothing else, I really must get back to my research. Thank you Ms Lane, Miss Turner.” He stood, fumbling with his handkerchief.
“Dr Winslow, would you possibly agree to another interview in the future?” Lois asked as we were herded out of his office. “Our editor would certainly appreciate the extra information for our article.”
“I think not,” he replied firmly. “I will be much to busy. But thank you both for coming.” And with the turn of a key, he locked the door to his office.
“He’s got to be connected with this,” Lois whispered to me frantically as we exited the building together. I agreed completely. The breakthroughs he had talked about were far too similar to the things Brad and Ellie had found in Jay’s brain to be coincidence. I couldn’t believe that we were able to get a break in the investigation this early on, but I wasn’t about to question our luck.
“He’s connected for sure,” I agreed. “But I’m not sure he’s entirely willing. He seemed pretty scared near the end of our interview.”
“Whoever’s funding him probably made him sign some type of contract. I imagine he’s in over his head on this.”
“So if he’s not going to talk on his own,” I said, “I guess we need to do some digging to find out for ourselves.”
* * *
***
This time, it was his father that was waiting in his dorm room when he came home.
“What?” he asked dully as he dumped his backpack on the bed.
“Just got back from class?” his father asked.
“No, I was heading there but then I decided to swing by Metropolis instead to see if everything was quiet.”
“You seem to be doing that a lot lately.”
“So?”
“Is that why you got this?” His dad held up a letter with the KSU crest visible.
“You had no right to read that,” Jon snapped, reaching for the letter.
Clark jerked his hand away. “Seeing as how I’m paying for your education, I think it should be my business to know whether or not you’re flunking out of every class you enrolled in this term.”
Jon dropped his head, unable to look his father in the eye. He knew it had gotten bad at school, but he hadn’t realized how bad until he received that letter.
“You can’t keep this up, Jon,” his father was continuing. “You’re letting Supernova take over your whole life. That’s not healthy for you in the long run.”
Jon could see how much this was costing his dad. To step out his own personal grief at losing a father and be one for his own son. Jon could see the pain his father was dealing with, and decided to make it easy for him.
“You’re right, Dad,” he told him. “I’ll take it easy on the Supernova stuff for a bit. Focus on my classes.”
His father eyed him warily, not fully believing this sudden conversion. “You should visit your grandma, too. She could use the company now.”
Jon felt his jaw tighten. Not the farm. He didn’t think he could handle that yet. “Maybe,” he finally choked out.
“Jon-”
“Look, Dad, I have to get to work, okay? I’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
“Okay,” his father said defeatedly. “Just know that if you need anything…”
“I’ll let you know,” Jon agreed, immersed in the task of unpacking his bag. He didn’t turn around until he heard his father exit the room. Brushing off the guilt of having lied to his father, he waited to make sure he was really going to be left alone. No one seemed to understand that he *needed* Supernova. Supernova was strong where Jon wasn’t. He didn’t have any gaping holes in his heart that desperately needed to be filled. And besides, Jon knew he would eventually get back to his life. Just not quite yet. Deciding that his father was probably long gone, Jon spun into his suit, flying into the air looking for someone who needed his help.
***
* * *
Stakeouts were never really something that I enjoyed, however I did recognize them as an essential part in an investigation. It was the best way to find out what Winslow had potentially gotten himself into. I didn’t tell Lois what I was planning to do tonight. Although she was helping me out in the investigation through the Daily Planet, it was me that was heading the official NIA investigation. I had heard her making plans with Clark earlier in the day, and I didn’t want her to have to cancel them for the sake of one lousy stakeout. And it did appear to be lousy so far.
Winslow hadn’t given me anything interesting to go off of. He left the university lab just after seven and went home immediately after. And as far as I could tell, he had spent the last two hours watching old ER episodes. Apparently, he didn’t get enough of doctors while at work. I desperately wanted him to do something. Make a mysterious phone call perhaps, or drive to some sketchy area of town and meet up with someone. Anything, really, except hang around here doing nothing.
I was startled out of my intense revere by a tapping at my passenger door. I turned to see Jon standing there, and I rolled down the window.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed frantically.
“I just came to visit you,” he replied innocently. “Can I come in?”
I glanced nervously around to see if anyone was watching. “I guess now that you’re here…” I flipped the lock and he opened the door.
“How’s the stakeout going?” he asked me as he climbed into the car.
“Boring,” I moped.
“Not nearly as fun as spending quality time with your fiancé, huh?”
“I’m sorry I had to cancel tonight,” I apologized. “It’s just that this could end up being a real break in the case and I don’t want to let it slip through my fingers.” We both looked down the deathly quiet street and in at Winslow calmly watching TV.
“Don’t worry about it,” he finally told me. Yet I still detected some disappointment in his tone. “When you cancelled, I volunteered to do patrol for Ellie,” he said. “She’s going to be working on the memory thing with Jay at STAR labs.”
“Oh. That’s good.” That meant that he couldn’t stay here for very long. He’d have to leave soon to fly around the city. Which was probably for the best, I told myself. Having him here all night would probably be too much of a distraction. “How about we meet tomorrow sometime instead?” I offered. “Maybe when you get off work.”
“I have to meet with the DA,” he explained reluctantly. “The Sharon Fleming trial, remember?”
“Oh, right. Darn it. And I’ll probably be working late with your mom anyway.”
“Well, how about the day after?”
“Open house at Riverview,” I reminded him. “You were going to stop by and visit so I could show you off to everyone, but that doesn’t really give us any alone time.”
“Oh.”
“This is ridiculous!” I exclaimed. “There’s no way that we can’t find two seconds to spend together.”
“Well what about if we-” Jon cut himself off as his head snapped up in that telltale gesture. “I’ve got to go,” he told me hurriedly. “But we’ll find time, I promise.”
“Okay, go,” I said. Jon quickly exited the car and ran off to be Supernova. Having no more entertaining distractions, I observed Winslow in silence.
Half an hour later, I was sorely tempted to give up and go home. Based on the stack of DVDs by his TV, Winslow had the makings of an all night marathon that wasn’t going to slacken any time soon. I had pulled into a dark alley that gave me a great view of the surrounding area without exposing myself, so I was able to scan the street his house was on. He sure lived in a quiet neighborhood. It was just after ten o’clock, yet there was virtually no one walking about.
Except for one person. She strolled down the street in a seemingly causal manner, yet there was something I detected in her attitude that tipped me off. She seemed too alert in order to be a random passerby. And there was also her jacket. It was too bulky for the warm weather, and her hands were stuck firmly in her pockets. Looking closer, I deduced from the bulge in her right pocket that she was holding something in that hand.
I exited my car quietly, leaving the door slightly ajar in order to avoid the telltale clunking sound. Keeping to the shadows, I slunk around to the side of Winslow’s house. The woman had continued to make her way down the street and closer to his place. Her pace began to accelerate as she neared her destination.
I exited my hiding place, and began running towards her, picking up speed as I went. The final proof of her guilt was the fact that she didn’t turn away when she saw me; instead she increased her speed as she moved towards her target. I rushed to catch her, but she had already managed to throw the small object in her hand through the window by the time I tackled her.
We tumbled away from the explosion, yet I could still feel the devouring heat as we rolled together on the ground. The woman fumbled with my tight hood as she tried to pull my hair. I snatched her wrist and bent it backwards. She grunted in pain, and before I could react, her other arm snuck out and her fist landed on my nose. Doing my best to ignore the pain, I fell forward onto her, bringing the full weight of my body to rest on her abdomen. I laced my arm behind her neck and held it tight. She struggled, but was unable to break my hold. I moved my hands to her neck and squeezed the essential veins. She was unconscious within seconds, and I quickly rolled her over and restrained her.
I turned around in time to see Jon fly down as Supernova and blow out the fire that had engulfed the remainder of Winslow’s house. He then jogged over to the spot where I was standing.
“You’re bleeding,” he told me in shock once he got a chance to get a look at me.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically as I brought my hand up to my nose to wipe away the blood. I winced at the unexpected tenderness.
“Here,” Jon offered. He gently pressed the corner of his cape against my nose to stop the bleeding.
“I’ll get it stained,” I protested.
“It’s already red,” he shrugged. His eyes cut through the darkness and examined my nose. “It’s not broken,” he informed me softly.
“Thanks.” I was worried that he would start to lecture me about being careful, but instead all he did was glance at the prone figure at our feet.
“Is she the one who…?”
“Yeah. Did Dr Winslow-”
Jon shook his head, and I glanced over at the smoldering ruins that had once been his house. There was no way that he could have survived that blast. Frustration and anger, both at myself and at the attack boiled up inside me.
“The police will be here shortly,” Jon informed me. “They’ll take her into custody.”
“No, they can’t,” I quickly objected. “I don’t want her shut away in some place where I can’t easily access her.” I had already screwed up once with this, and I wasn’t about to do it again.
“Kaylie, think about this. We can’t keep her from the police,” he argued. “She committed a crime and needs to face the consequences.”
“She’s connected to this case. I don’t want to let her out of my sight.”
“I made a promise to this city that I would uphold the law,” Jon insisted stubbornly. “And that means making sure she gets taken into custody.”
“I made a promise to investigate this case in the best way that I know how,” I countered. “And that means letting her go and seeing what she might lead me to.”
“She’s a murderer, Kaylie,” Jon said heatedly. “She needs to be taken to the proper authorities.”
“The proper authorities won’t do anything to help us! Do you really think she’s going to spill the beans in a police interrogation room? I need to know who sent her to kill Winslow.”
“How are you going to do that? Choke her again?”
I gaped speechlessly at him. What exactly was he trying to imply with that comment? I let go of his bloodstained cape and stormed away from him.
“No, wait!” he called after me. “I’m so sorry, Kaylie. I didn’t mean-”
“I’m not going to talk about this right now,” I cut him off, still walking away from him.
“Where are you going?” he asked, following me closely.
“Away,” I told him shortly. “I don’t want to be here when the cops show up; they don’t need to know about NIA involvement yet.” I dabbed at my nose with my fingers. It was still bleeding.
“Fine. I’ll take you home then.”
“I’m not going home; I’m going to Winslow’s office. That woman was sent here to silence him, and I need to get anything I can from his office before that’s taken care of too.”
“You can’t go there now, you’ve just been injured. You should go home.”
“Okay, let’s get something straight,” I whirled around, nearly stabbing him with my pointed finger. “We may be engaged, but you can *never* tell me how to do my job, got it? I know what I’m doing and I don’t need you butting in and interfering.”
“I never-”
“Is this how it’s going to be once we’re married? Am I going to have to ask your permission whenever I want to do something?”
“Kaylie-” he began.
“Look, we obviously can’t discuss this here,” I interrupted. “Thanks to you, this street will be swarming with police in a few minutes,” I turned around and continued to make my way towards my car. “I’ll see you later,” I threw over my shoulder before I climbed in and started the ignition.
