Previously:
"So whoever did this has access to the drug at a higher potency than anyone enrolled in the clinical trial?" Clark asked. "It has to be someone at the lab? Or could a test subject save up enough to get that dosage?"
"The most likely source would be someone from the lab. A test subject couldn't get that strength no matter how many samples they combined."
"Which lab is working with KB-509 right now?"
"Alliance Technologies."
Clark's entire body went cold as he recognized the name of Herman Twitchell's employer. It was impossible that it was merely a coincidence.
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Lois went to her seat, her mind and senses still reeling as she reviewed their encounter. If only she could have been a little more self-possessed and a lot less awestruck. She should have asked Superman how he knew about the phrase game and work up to the really interesting questions. Had he deliberately set out to learn her heartbeat? Or had that just happened? Did he know anyone else's? Why on earth had he even confessed that to her? What had he hoped to gain? Why, after two years of polite friendship, had he suddenly decided to turn on the charm?
She was so involved in her inner thoughts that Lois wasn't really paying attention to the press conference she had been sent to cover. She was pulled from her reverie when a wave of muffled gasps and murmurs went through the press corp. The small crowd in attendance was applauding politely as the dignitaries moved into place to pose with the gold-plated shovels for the symbolic ground-breaking.
"What happened?" she asked Randy Egan, who was sitting next to her. "What did I miss?"
"Superman," Randy said the name like it was an oath. "Congratulations, Lane. You just won the jackpot. Superman said his top two priorities are children's issues and nuclear disarmament. If it was anyone else, I'd think that you cheated, but it's friggin' Superman." <><><>
The Other Shoe 8/10
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Monday morning
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Clark had spent all night flying in circles over Metropolis as he searched for both Lois and Herman Twitchell. There had been no sign of Twitchell at the Alliance Tech warehouse. Clark had checked the docks, the Alliance Tech headquarters in midtown, and Twitchell's penthouse overlooking Centennial Park. Twitchell was nowhere he should have been. Had Lois' interest spooked the man into leaving Metropolis?
As the horizon began to lighten with the dawn Clark was beginning to feel dizzy and exhausted. He had spent the last three nights scouring the city to no avail. More and more his fruitless searches seemed like looking for an invisible needle in a haystack. There were so many people in Metropolis that even a cursory check of each of them was time-consuming. He grudgingly admitted to himself that the lack of sleep was making him sloppy but it was impossible to consider resting when he had no idea where Lois was.
As was his habit, he flew past her apartment whenever he was in the vicinity. Her alarm clock was sounding but there was no one there to awaken. Clark caught a glimpse of his reflection in her bedroom window and realized that he couldn't continue to appear in public as Superman unless he shaved first. He flew home to take a shower but then the blinking light on his answering machine caught his attention.
The first message was from his mom, wondering why he had not come to visit. It seemed like his promise to come home over the weekend was from another life. He should have called, he realized, but he had known there would be no comfort in telling his parents what had happened. Their concern would only have deepened his guilt and anxiety. The second message was Lois' mom, begging him to call her if he heard anything. The third was from Lt. Hess, asking him to check in because they had some additional questions to ask him.
Clark skipped cleaning up and went straight to the precinct. Hess was in a staff briefing so the desk sergeant pointed him to a chair to wait.
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Friday morning<><><>
Clark was in a limbo of both anticipation and dread, waiting for Lois to return from the press conference. Would she say anything? Of course she would - the real question was why he had done it. He had been wrestling with the ultimate consequences of his ill-advised actions for the past half hour.
What had he been thinking? Just because he had resolved to tell her didn't mean that she actually knew. And yet he had been unable to hold back when he realized that they were alone together. It had been amazing to drop his guard and simply be himself around her. For just a few precious moments he had been certain that everything was going to work out. And then reality came crashing down around them and he realized - far too late - just how much worse he had made things.
He was never going to see that look of unabashed awe on her face. He would never again be her infallible hero. He owed her more than the truth now. He owed her a huge apology. He had definitely gone too far now to not finish what he'd set in motion. The secret that was standing between them was going to come out whether he told her or she figured it out on her own. Clark wondered which scenario would cause her to hate him more.
The distant thrum of her heartbeat reached his ears and he realized she was in the building now. He steeled himself that in a minute or two he was going to suggest going somewhere private so he could try to explain.
As she stepped out of the elevator Lois looked preoccupied and his pulse raced as he wondered if she had already figured him out. She dropped her bag on her chair and came over to stand in front of his desk.
"How was the press conference?" he asked in what he hoped was a casual tone.
Still distracted, Lois replied in a faraway voice, "Weird." She picked up the Kansas snow globe he used as a paperweight and frowned at it, sending another wave of panic through him. She knew. She had to know. She realized now why he said her flight to Kansas was on him. "Have you ever told Superman about the phrase game?"
"Why?" he hedged and half-hoped she was about to call his bluff.
Lois shrugged and set down the snow globe down. She began to straighten the stack of file folders sitting on the corner of his desk so that they were all perfectly aligned. Clark waited, his heart pounding, for her answer.
"I won the phrase game this morning," she told him. "Except I didn't really win it. Superman asked me what phrase I had and I was so surprised that he even knew about the stupid game that I told him. I never would have thought he'd use it in his speech." She looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time since she had come over. "It was deliberate, Clark. It had nothing to do with his speech and I never asked him to do it. It was just so weird." Lois leaned in and continued in a low, urgent tone. "I think there's something wrong with Superman. Like, maybe, there's another clone out there or something."
Clark gaped at her as a swell of relief raced through him. "What?" he managed to rasp out.
Lois gave him an enthusiastic nod, apparently thinking his surprised reaction matched her own. "I'm not kidding. He flirted with me. He never flirts with me. And what makes it even weirder is that I told him that we're dating."
Clark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. How could he possibly explain his actions? Telling her that Superman definitely had been flirting with her was going to bring up questions he couldn't answer in the middle of the newsroom.
"Would you like to go and get a coffee?" he asked.
"Now?" Lois frowned at him. "I have two stories to complete before lunch or Perry's gonna--."
Before she could finish, Perry had leaned out of his office and barked, "Lois! Clark! In my office --
now!"
Lois gave Clark an I-told-you-so look. "This can't possibly be good," she muttered under her breath.
"The Alliance Tech smuggling story," Perry asked Lois without preamble as they entered, "where are you on that?"
"Nowhere new. Someone had me cover the children's hospital press conference this morning," Lois shot back.
Perry sat down behind his desk. "You can knock out the children's hospital story in twenty minutes. I asked where you are on the smuggling story."
"There was one container that showed up at Alliance Tech on Tuesday that wasn't on the Customs manifest. I've been trying to get someone from either the warehouse or Customs to give me an on-the-record quote."
Perry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "You really think they're going to confirm it for you?"
"They might be persuaded. I have pictures of the container arriving and Jimmy hacked into the Customs mainframe this morning and printed out the original manifest. If they claim that container didn't show up, or add it to the manifest, I'll have them."
Perry nodded approvingly. "Get down to the docks and find someone willing to go on-record. I want something concrete by four o'clock." He waved at the door to dismiss her and they both turned to leave.
"Hold up there, Clark. I'm not done with you."
Lois smirked at him and hurriedly left before Perry could change his mind and call her back.
"Your story on the subway accident last night? I'm wondering if the switch that failed is from the same manufacturer as the one that short-circuited last week. Get on it."
Clark nodded and left Perry's office. Lois was gathering together her notes as she prepared to leave. Clark went straight over to her and touched her shoulder. "Lois, can we talk later?"
A faint tremor ran through her, the sensation tickling his fingertips. "About what?" she asked as she turned to look up at him. "That big step you were too nervous to talk about last night?"
His cheeks grew hot with a mix of lust and embarrassment but he continued to meet her gaze. "Yes. I'm sorry I left like that last night - truly."
"And are you sure?" she asked, her voice wavering a little with anxiety. "You're not going to run out on me tonight if you get cold feet?"
"I'm not going to get cold feet," he assured her. "I've never been more certain of anything in my whole life as I am about my feelings for you."
"Oh," she whispered as her posture became perfectly still.
"Please go out with me tonight? Anywhere you want. You call all the shots, okay?"
"Am I paying you two to chit-chat?" Perry yelled from the door of his office.
Clark clasped his hands together, ready to beg if that was what she required. "Please?"
Her answering smile ratcheted his pulse into overdrive. "All right. Pick me up at seven-thirty and we'll go see that movie you vetoed last week."
Clark gave an exaggerated wince to let her know she had managed to inflict a blow. "Like I said, you call all the shots."
"I want that one in writing." Lois patted his shoulder as she moved past him to walk up the ramp to the elevator. She pressed the button and then turned around to look over at him. "Seven-thirty, right?"
Clark nodded.
She gave him a wicked grin. "I can't wait to hear your excuse when you don't get there until eight." The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside.
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Monday afternoon
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The door across the hall opened and Lt. Hess came into the hall. He nodded at Clark in greeting and gestured for him to follow. "Thanks for coming in so quickly. I was wondering if you knew of any connection between Lois and Herman Twitchell?"
Clark fought to keep his expression even. He had neglected to pass on the information about KB-509 the night before. Had STAR Labs called to give Hess an update?
"Lois was looking into possible smuggling at the Alliance Tech warehouse."
Hess frowned. "Did Twitchell know about that?"
Clark nodded. "Yes."
Hess' frown deepened and he dropped his voice to say, "If I tell you something, will you promise me not to publish it until I give you the okay?"
"Of course."
"An officer checking on a stolen car found abandoned yesterday afternoon also found the body of Herman Twitchell nearby. There was a woman's red high heeled shoe under one of the seats along with traces of blood on the backseat that match your partner's blood type. It's going to take a couple of weeks for a definite DNA test."
It was information overload. Twitchell was dead. They had found Lois' missing shoe and, possibly, her blood.
"Traces of blood?"
Hess gave him a grim nod. "If she was killed, it wasn't in the car."
"Any fingerprints?"
"The car was wiped clean. So either they were sloppy when they left her shoe there or the killer didn't think it mattered."
"How was Twitchell killed?"
"His throat was slit."
"Where was the car found?"
"About a hundred miles south of here, just outside of Stanton."
Was Lois dead? There was only a trace of her blood, but Twitchell had been killed outside the car so it was possible that Lois had been taken out first, too.
"Do you have an estimate for Twitchell's time of death?" Clark asked and tried to remember if he had seen the man when he searched Metropolis the first two times.
"Sometime Sunday morning," Hess replied. "Did Lois mention any one else she was looking into on that smuggling story?"
Clark shook his head. It dawned on him that he was holding back information from Hess. "I saw Superman this morning and he asked me to pass along to you that Lois was drugged by a substance that's currently being researched at Alliance Tech. STAR Labs can give you all the particulars."
Hess looked thoughtful. "I'll give them a call."
"Do you need me for anything else?" Clark gestured at the door.
"No. Thanks for coming in. I'll be in contact if we learn anything else," Hess replied. Clark turned to leave and then stopped short when Hess added, "Oh, and Clark? Mum's the word. We haven't released the news about Twitchell yet, so if I see it on the news you'll never get so much as a traffic report from me in the future."
Clark nodded his understanding and left the building as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. He ducked into the nearest alley and spun into the suit. Within seconds he was airborne and racing south towards Stanton.
A couple of miles north of the town he saw an open field near the river. Yellow crime scene tape had been strung up between the field and the highway. Clark landed in the field and looked around. The place was strewn with litter; it was obviously used as a dumping site by more than just Twitchell's killer. Clark lifted into the air again and scanned the river. Relief flooded through him when he didn't find her. He closed his eyes and concentrated, listening for Lois, but he couldn't detect even the faintest trace of her.
He began to fly in ever-widening circles, covering the hundred miles between Metropolis and the dump site and then another hundred in each direction from the field without finding Lois. As he came close to the outskirts of Metropolis, Clark could hear the high-pitched squeal of the alarm on Jimmy Olsen's watch. He raced to the Daily Planet, using the large windows above the newsroom for the fastest entrance.
Jimmy immediately stood up and waved at him. "I'm sorry, I've been trying to find you all day and then I remembered that--."
"What is it, Jimmy?" Clark asked. There were times when Jimmy could babble as much as Lois and he was simply too impatient to politely wait him out.
Jimmy waved a stack of photos. "Wasn't the guy who took Lois wearing a Red Sox hat?"
"Yes."
"Lois took a whole bunch of pictures earlier this week when she was watching the Alliance Tech warehouse. We developed the roll from Tuesday right away, but she never saw any containers delivered on Monday so I didn't get to it until this morning. There, that guy." Jimmy handed him one of the pictures. Lois had been focusing the camera on the container number, but just to the left of it was a man wearing a Red Sox hat. Unlike the grainy surveillance footage shot outside the bar, this one showed a clear view of the man's face.
"Jimmy, I want you to take a copy of this down to Detective Hess."
"Okay." Jimmy hesitated and looked up at him in concern. "How's Clark doing? Do you know?"
"He's out looking," Clark answered. He saw the flicker of worry in the younger man's expression and realized then that he still hadn't shaved. All around the newsroom he could see the tilt of heads as his colleagues craned their necks to gawk at a disheveled-looking Superman.
"Thanks, Jimmy," Clark told him and swiftly left the newsroom. He landed in an alley near the Alliance Tech warehouse and changed into street clothes. Setting aside the fact that he looked terrible, it would be better to blend in than to stand out while he looked for the man with Red Sox cap.
As Clark passed the Receiving office he caught a glimpse of a Red Sox pennant on the wall inside. The door was open so he went in.
"Yeah?" a female voice asked from his left. "Can I help you?"
Clark turned to face the woman. A name plate on her desk identified her as 'Cindy'. Needing a reason to explain his presence, Clark said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm looking for Mr. Twitchell?"
"He didn't come in today." Cindy picked up a pen and a pink message pad. "You want to leave a message?"
"No. That's okay." Clark gestured at the baseball pennant on the wall. "Who's the Red Sox fan?"
The woman looked over at the pennant and made a face. "Sadler. He didn't come in today either."
"Sadler? Does he have a tattoo on his arm? Something with a point?"
The woman gave a weary nod. "Yeah, that's him. Dave Sadler."
"Do you know where I can find him?"
"He's probably off torturing kittens somewhere."
"Please?" Clark pressed. "It's important that I talk to him."
The woman narrowed her eyes at him as she assessed his sincerity. Finally she shrugged. "He has a place over in Suicide Slum. The Regent Apartments or the Regency or something like that. My younger brother lived there years ago. It sounds fancy, but it's a hellhole."
Clark thanked the woman and left. Ten minutes later he had found the Regent Arms Apartments. The woman's assessment was dead-on. There weren't many people in the building and the ones who were there were downwardly mobile. A couple of strung-out junkies watching cartoons while a baby wailed in the next room. An elderly man shuffled slowly up the stairs.
In apartment 3B there was a man with a dagger tattooed on his left arm. He was meticulously sharpening a k-bar knife. The long blade made an ominously hypnotic shwick-shwick sound as it slid over the whetstone. Taped to the wall in front of him was yesterday's front page article - "Daily Planet Reporter Missing".
A heart had been drawn around the picture of Lois.
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End 8/10
*A k-bar knife is a 7" long utility blade used by the US Marines in WWII.
