Chapter Four
As Clark opened the conference room door, Lois decided to give him a little verbal goose. “Catnapping?” she asked.
He paused for a moment, then shut the door. Not quite the reaction she was hoping for, although she admitted to herself that she wasn’t sure what reaction she wanted to see. “No, actually,” he drawled. “But I would like to ask you a personal question. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
She frowned at him for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. As long as you understand that I’m not required to answer it.”
“Fair enough.” He shed his still-dusty coat and sat down beside the table. “I’d like to ask you about your relationship with Cat Grant. You and she seem like good friends, and I don’t want to seem like I’m getting between the two of you.”
“Oh.” He’s attracted to Cat, she thought with a surprising pang. Of course, who wouldn’t be? She’s young, talented, attractive – make that hot as a bottle rocket – and she’s all but tackling him in the newsroom. On top of that, she was the best gossip columnist in the state for a reason. And there were dozens of rich and powerful and influential men who’d all but drop to their knees panting for a momentary smile from her, hoping for an hour in bed with her.
But Lois couldn’t say anything bad about Cat Grant, not after everything she’d done, not after she’d been the best friend Lois had had since junior high. Besides, Clark deserved to know just how fine a woman he was interested in.
“When my husband – Claude – left for the Congo before he – on his last trip, Cat took me out for a good time to get my mind off his not being here. We had a great time together and she kind of took it upon herself to keep me from missing him too much. And we got to know each other pretty well.” Lois grinned at a memory. “She took me on my first trip to Chippendales.”
Clark almost suppressed a snort of laughter. “You? Around all those men with their – their – “
“I think the phrase you’re looking for is ‘well-toned hard bodies?’”
“More like ‘yards of skin glistening under the lights.’”
They chuckled together, then Lois picked up her pencil and played with it for a moment before continuing. “Then when the police – when they came to the office to – they came right here to the newsroom – to tell me – to tell me that – “
She fought back the tears and took a deep breath. “Cat took me home with her and put me to bed at her place. She fed me soup and talked to me and held me when I cried and she helped me get dressed for the – for Claude’s memorial service and she – she just about saved my life. And she’s one of the best people I know.”
She squeezed Clark’s hand, then realized that she hadn’t noticed when he’d put his hand on hers. The contact was surprisingly comforting. “Anyway – she’s honest and hard-working and she’ll go to the utmost for you if she thinks you’re worth it.”
“Thank you.” He paused, then asked, “So, basically she’s harmless?”
Lois laughed out loud and wiped her eyes with the fingertips of her free hand. “Oh, no! I never said she was harmless. If you go out with her, you’ll find out that she’s high maintenance and she loves to party. And if she sets her sights on a man, she gets him. I’ve never known anyone to turn her down. In fact, she usually has to sift through her party invitations for the best escort anywhere. She’s quite the social butterfly and she’s always in demand.”
He nodded and released her other hand. She was surprised again, this time to find that she missed his touch. “Thank you. That’s good to know.”
She sniffed and shifted in her chair. “Yeah. Hey, we need to get back to work here.” She picked up a list of names and phone numbers. “I must have called fifty former EPRAD employees who knew or worked with Platt and I can’t get any of them to give me the time of day. It sounds like a cover-up of some kind to me.”
Clark nodded. “They won’t say anything, either good or bad about him?”
“Not a word. I say the name ‘Platt’ and they close up like a maximum security cell. They’re not talking.” She leaned back in her chair and took a big sip of coffee from her favorite mug, the one with ‘The Best Man For The Job Is A Woman’ stenciled around the front. “Maybe there’s nothing to talk about.”
“But you don’t think that’s true, do you?”
Lois frowned and rubbed her face. “No, I don’t, but we can’t make a story out of what I believe. Perry’s going to demand hard facts and reliable sources.”
“So – what do we do now?”
“Well, first we try to make sense of Platt’s report, assuming that what he gives Jimmy is in any way coherent. Then we try to prove that Baines actually got a copy of the report, then we try to find any written evidence that Platt found cooling devices and Baines ignored it – “ she broke off with a sigh. “I hope you didn’t make any dinner plans for tonight.”
He folded his arms on the divider and gave her a smooth and criminally sexy smile. “I am all yours, Lois.”
*****
They’d been at it since Jimmy had returned with a shoebox full of Platt’s scribblings three hours earlier. Lois had all but ordered him to stay, but Jimmy had pleaded the need to take copies of everything he had to Star Labs and a desperate need for sleep. The two reporters tackled the mess with determination but little confidence. Lois knew that she didn’t have the science background to make sense of the mass of confusion in front of them, but she hoped Clark could bring some order from the chaos Jimmy had delivered.
But it was too much for either of them. Lois threw the handful of sticky notes, page fragments, pieces of cardboard, and crumpled napkins on her desk. “This is crazy! Nothing matches, nothing’s dated, there’s no index, no table of contents, nothing! If I had turned in something like this for my master’s thesis, my professor would have giggled maniacally and set fire to it.” She stretched her arms forward to loosen some of the tension in her back. “We’ll never make sense of this.”
“Too bad Platt didn’t number them in some way,” Clark supplied.
“I think I just said that, Clark.” She flopped backwards in her chair and put her hands on her stomach. “I’m so hungry I could eat these notes.” She sent a glare toward her new partner for emphasis. “Without ketchup.”
He smiled that megawatt smile and stood. “Let me go get something for us to nosh on. I know a little Chinese place.” He grabbed his jacket and followed his feet to the elevators. “Be back in a few.”
“But you didn’t ask me what I wanted!”
“I’ll bring back an assortment,” he called.
He was gone before she could tell him that he’d better either bring some bring kung pao chicken or not come back.
Great, she mused. Now I’ll have to make do with his idea of Chinese cuisine. And how could he have found a good Chinese place so soon? He couldn’t have been in the city for a week yet.
But he’d done a good job with Platt, she admitted to herself. The scientist had been wound so tight Lois had thought he’d been about to snap like an over-tuned banjo string, yet Clark had calmed him and gotten something close to a coherent tale from him, along with the promise of a copy of his full report.
Of course, that didn’t mean anything at this point. Baines had told them that Platt had been fired for setting fire to one of the labs, that he’d turned to drugs and booze when his family had left him, that he’d torpedoed a brilliant career with his paranoia and wild accusations. That combination would send anyone over the edge.
Her fatigue got to her for a moment and she decided with a sigh that Platt was a nutcase. There wasn’t any story here. They were wasting their time.
Yet something inside her said that yes, there was a story there, but it was still so diaphanous and vague that she couldn’t see its form, couldn’t touch its edges. She could, however, feel it. Maybe Platt was crazy. Maybe the shuttle disaster really was an accident. Maybe Dr. Antoinette Baines was as pure as the driven snow and she was doing her dead level best to keep EPRAD’s space station on track.
And maybe it was a huge story, one which she’d only glimpsed from far above through the fog of confusion thrown up by the conspirators, whoever they were.
If she was right, if this was indeed a huge story, then she’d get it. She’d dig it out and make it sing, never mind the mixed metaphors. And with Clark’s touchy-feely talents to add to her hard-nosed determination and refusal to back away from the truth, they’d force the story to take shape. It would stand up on the page and –
“Here you go.”
Clark’s voice and the round wooden containers being plunked down on her desk startled her out of her half-reverie. She opened the closest one and inhaled. “That smells great. And it’s still hot!” She picked up an egg roll and bit into it. “Mmm! Wow! That may be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
Clark snorted as he sat down beside the desk. She glanced up and saw a half-smile threatening to spread over his entire face. “Go stick your head under a cold water faucet, Kent. That was not an invitation for you to flirt with me.”
He opened another container to reveal the kung pao chicken she’d hoped he’d bring back. “I never considered it for a moment.”
Yeah, right, she thought, but didn’t say it. Then she decided the wonderful food in front of her required her complete and total focus.
Could he actually be as much a Boy Scout as he appeared? Was anybody that nice?
She’d never met anyone that nice before. But maybe – just maybe – she finally had.
*****
They leaned back in their chairs at the same time. Lois released a contented sigh, then covered a burp with her hand. “Sorry. But that really was terrific. You’ll have to show me where this place is. The only writing on the containers is Chinese, and I don’t read pictographs.”
“They aren’t called pictographs,” he said with a smile. “A better term would be sinograph, the prefix ‘sino-‘ meaning from China and – “
“Fine! Thank you, Mr. Experienced World Traveler! I still can’t read them and I still don’t know where this place is and I still want you to show me.”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Sure, I’ll show it to you. When we’re both ready.”
When we’re both ready? Could that comment have been any more cryptic?
She dismissed it from her mind and cracked open her fortune cookie. “Oh, good, this is written in Chinese, too.”
He took it from her fingers and examined it. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you that you read – “
“A good horse is like a member of the family,” he quoted.
He handed the slip of paper back to her. “I hate that,” she said. “That is not a fortune.”
He chuckled at her mild agitation, then locked eyes with her. He’s really trying to get in good with me, thought Lois.
And he’s doing pretty well, too.
She had to break the moment. She bit off a piece of her cookie and said, “You really are a strange one, Clark Kent.”
It worked, but only partly. He still held her gaze as he responded, “Am I?”
“Yeah, you are. But I think I’ve got you figured out.”
There was that smile again. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Didn’t take you very long.”
“Well, it’s my business – looking beyond the external.”
A phone rang in the background. Someone answered and began a conversation. A fax machine hummed from somewhere across the room. Someone else carrying a thick folder trotted from one office to another.
But all Lois could see was Clark’s smiling face swelling in her line of vision. He was young and handsome and strong and talented and ambitious and courteous and she didn’t dare let this go on any longer or she might drown in those delicious chocolate eyes.
She forced herself to take a metaphorical step back and said, “Don’t fall for me, farm boy. I don’t have time for it.” It wasn’t easy, but she made herself stand up. “Come on. Let’s go find Platt. Maybe he can help us make some sense of this stuff.”
She strode forcefully across the newsroom floor, grateful that Kent couldn’t hear how hard her heart was beating, nor could he see her flushed face. She headed for the ladies’ room and called over her shoulder to him, “I’m making a pit stop now. No way I’m using Platt’s bathroom.”
His chortle followed her until it was cut off by the closing door. The cold water she splashed on her face and some martial arts deep breathing helped her settle down. She had to be on the lookout for moments like that, moments where she’d be vulnerable to his down-home Kansas charm and gentle good looks. She couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. Not now. And especially not to him.
*****
I didn’t listen to her in the bathroom – my mother would have boxed my ears if she’d thought that I’d even consider it – but I could tell that her heart rate had been elevated and her blood pressure had been above normal when she’d stood up. I only wished I could tell if she were reacting to me in a positive sense or if she felt like I was putting pressure on her.
She was beautiful, strong, determined, talented, accomplished, and yet also tender in surprising ways. She missed her husband, of course, which was completely normal. If she hadn’t missed him so much, I doubt that I would have been so attracted to her. But I thought it might be about time for her to come out of the deep grieving stage and be open to another relationship. If she decided to take up with someone like Lex Luthor, though, I didn’t know what I would do. I didn’t know what I could do. All I had on him was my reaction and my first impressions, and while they’d served me well in the past, I couldn’t very well intrude in someone else’s personal life on that basis.
And I couldn’t sit around gazing at her like a star-struck teen, either. That had to stop right now. Yeah, she was very easy to look at, but she didn’t need the aggravation of me being some sappy groupie guy. I couldn’t very well function as her partner if that was the basis of our relationship.
And every time I even considered that it might be nice to be involved with Lois, Rachel’s face would float into my mind. The way that had ended had pretty much burned me out on any kind of romance, no matter how impressive the girl was.
Still – Lois was the first woman I’d met since Rachel who made me think about romance. With my special abilities, I could tell that she was attracted to me on several levels, and I was attracted right back. Would it be right to think about Lois when Rachel’s memory still haunted me? Was it possible for me to let go of the past and let myself care about Lois? Or should we keep our relationship on a strict, professional level?
Personal involvement brought all kinds of risks. I’d be risking my job as a reporter, my future with the Planet, my reputation, and most of all, my heart. And I wasn’t ready for that level of risk. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready for that. There was too much potential for pain and suffering for me. Not again.
I made a decision. I was going to be more business-like, less personal, less desperately eager to make her smile – even if her smile would light up all of the Smallville annual corn festival by itself. She didn’t need a clingy skirt-chaser wanna-be boyfriend, she needed a reporter beside her. And I would be that guy for her.
It was the right decision – but somehow I didn’t think it was going to be at all easy.
I picked up Platt’s notes and stuffed them back into the cardboard box. The box itself had seen better days, just like Platt. I hoped he could help us make sense of them.
I also hoped that the condition of the bedraggled box didn’t portend anything about Samuel Platt himself.
*****
This time Lois didn’t wait for Clark to lead her into the building. She slid her shoes on the floor as she approached the doorway – which, this time, thankfully, was completely clear of sleeping drunks – to warn the rats that she was coming. She just assumed that they’d get out of her way rather than get squished.
Platt’s door was open – odd, given his extreme paranoia. She slowed as she stepped closer and heard an intermittent crackling sound. Something wasn’t right.
Suddenly Clark was in front of her, holding the box containing Platt’s notes in one hand and the other away from his body as if ready to take on an assailant. He led her through the door, but she slipped past him as soon as he was in the room. She wanted – no, she needed to see what was creating those flashes of light on the ceiling and the far wall.
“Lois, wait, let me go first – “
“Don’t be silly, I’ve seen it all, war, crime, famine, nothing bothers me.”
She tried to switch on the overhead light but nothing happened. There was a tattered old easy chair facing the far wall, and a flickering yellow bulb hung over it. A man’s feet were visible from the back of the chair, but they appeared to be sitting in a bowl in front of the chair.
“Dr. Platt? Dr. Platt, is that you?”
She stepped forward and the Boy Scout grabbed her upper arm. “Wait, Lois! Please!”
He’d set the box down somewhere. “You’re not my bodyguard, Clark. Let me go.”
“I think it’s dangerous.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
A wire hung down from one side of the chair. Electric blue arcs skittered up and down the wire as if searching for an escape. Lois and Clark slowly stepped around the chair to see Platt’s feet sitting in a bowl of water on the floor. A wire lay in the water where his feet were soaking, and his hands gripping another thick wire with the insulation removed. Electricity snapped and crackled around the water and along the wires.
Platt’s eyes were closed and his face seemed to be frozen shut, as if the electricity had caused his facial muscles to spasm all at once. There had been no peace at the moment of his death.
Oh, yeah, she’d seen it all and nothing bothered her. Sure, Lois, she thought, you can look at anything and not be upset. You’ve seen dead men before, some of them in far worse shape than Platt. Doesn’t matter that you’d known this one personally, that you’d felt his pain, that you’d hoped he’d come back from the brink of the abyss and be happy again, that you wanted him to make it back because it meant there might be hope for you. He’s dead and now there was no hope for him beyond a well-attended funeral.
She still turned and buried her face in Clark’s firm chest and let him hold her shoulders while she controlled her gag reflex. Some fearless reporter she was.
She turned to look at Platt’s face once more. The thing that stuck in her mind was that he’d never get to see his daughter walk again.
It wasn’t reasonable. Even if nothing he’d claimed about the space program were true, he had certainly loved his family. Lois knew that as well as she knew her sister Lucy would raid her closet for party clothes before the month was out. It looked like the kind of suicide a scientist would inflict on himself, but it wasn’t. Platt may have been a few bricks shy of a load, but he’d never kill himself.
Someone had killed him and tried to make it look like suicide. That could mean only one thing, that Platt had been telling the truth – or at least a large part of the truth – about the Messenger disaster. They’d been close to finding out just what had and what hadn’t happened with those ion particles and their role in the shuttle’s destruction.
But someone had killed their best lead. Someone had taken the life of a man whose only loves were his family and scientific truth. Someone was trying to keep them from learning what had destroyed EPRAD’s shuttle and killed several brave men and women. Someone was trying to keep the truth from her. Someone had just convinced her that there was a huge story just waiting to be uncovered, someone who was willing to kill to keep the public from hearing it.
Someone had just made a huge mistake.
Because now she was truly angry. And when Mad Dog Lane was on the trail, the bad guys always lost.
