"How about tomorrow evening, we have a little celebration?"
"A celebration?" he said hesitantly.
"The pet door is in and that gives us the freedom to make some changes." She paused and was encouraged when he didn't immediately oppose the idea. "I could bring in a camp table and two chairs, and we could pretend we were in a restaurant. I'll get a nice bottle of wine and ask Uncle Mike to provide a dessert as well as a main course."
Clark's smile had rolled out slowly as she had expounded on her idea.
"Sound good?" she urged.
"Lois ..."
"And whatever tomorrow brings, we'll deal with all of it together tomorrow night."
"That is a wonderful idea," Clark said, his eyes shooting little darts of excitement that propelled directly into her heart.
"I'll give you the mirrors as soon as we're alone, and then stay away to give you time to use them."
His smile was wide and alive with genuine excitement. "I can't wait," he said.
"Neither can I," she replied.
Part 15
Uncle Mike's seafood risotto was delicious, but Lois wasn't sure if there was another reason for the silence that had gathered as she and Clark ate their supper.
Perhaps it was that Clark's transitory high spirits had been no match for the sobering realisation of the impending news of his parents' fate.
He must feel as if he were being torn in numerous directions. Wanting to hope, but not daring to. Trying to be realistic, but not willing to acknowledge - even to himself - some of the worst of his fears.
She wondered if he were giving any thought to the possibility of being exposed to the rods tomorrow. He had tried to gloss over it, but she wasn't sure if that had been an attempt to prevent her from worrying.
The thought of it whipped dread through her stomach.
But she had to concentrate on other things. They had to discuss Smallville and his parents - and the need was becoming more pressing as their time slipped away. Lois had said nothing so far, hoping to allow Clark the chance to raise the subject when he felt ready to do so.
When they had both finished eating, Clark started to clear away their empty containers.
"Leave it," Lois said with a smile.
He put down the containers and wiped his hands on the napkin. "Is there something specific you'd like to do?"
Lois retrieved the pillow from where she'd thrown it and lay on her back on the mattress - head on the pillow, knees bent, eyes fixed on Clark. Beyond her feet, he leant against the wall and settled into his favourite position - long legs arched, one wrist resting on the point of his knee.
He smiled across at her. "Are you tired?"
"A bit."
"You should rest this evening. You'll be doing a lot of travelling tomorrow."
So, he *was* thinking about Smallville. "Yeah."
Clark stared at his hand. "For a long time, I have tried not to think about my parents or the farm or anything else that used to be mine."
A spasm of pain rippled across his cheek.
"They gave me everything," he said in a voice humming with anguish. "And Trask made them pay."
Lois could feel the pain radiating from him like heat from a wildfire. She wished there was a way to alleviate it - to lift away some of the despair and guilt that had burdened him for seven long years.
She wanted to say *something* - but every possibility she dragged from her mind risked sounding trite.
Clark sighed and turned his head. "What do you need to know?"
She needed to connect with him. The right words remained frustratingly elusive, so Lois stretched out her left leg and plonked her foot next to him.
He straightened his leg, scooped up her foot, and placed it on his thigh.
"I plan to go to Smallville first," she said. "Before doing anything else, I need to find out if they ever went back to the farm."
Clark undid the knot of her laces and slipped off her shoe. "And if they did?"
She wasn't sure how he was going to react to her reply. "I think I should just come back to Metropolis."
Clark's thumb did a long sweep of her ankle. "I agree," he said. "It is safer for them if you don't approach them."
The turmoil that must be raging inside him hadn't blunted his insight. "I'm so sorry, Clark," Lois said. "This must be heart-wrenching for you."
"If they are both all right ..." His voice cracked as his throat jumped. "... that will be enough."
But the other - more likely, in Lois's opinion - possibility was that they had been taken from Smallville and had never returned.
"What is your plan?" Clark asked. "You mentioned that you sometimes work undercover."
"I work undercover most of the time," Lois said.
His thumb pressed into one side of her ankle, while his fingers stroked the other. "Do you need any local knowledge?"
"Where would be the best place to go?" Lois asked. "Is there someone who loves to talk about what is happening around Smallville?"
"You should go into the cafe in the main street," he said. "There are two women who work there - Maisie and Audrey. Either of them would love to talk to you. And they will know everything there is to know about Smallville."
"Is there a nearby town?" Lois asked. "A place that always competes with Smallville - in sports or whatever?"
"Granville."
Lois smiled at the speed of his reply. She glanced to where her foot disappeared into his large competent hands. "That feels wonderful," she said. "Thank you."
Clark's smile made another brief appearance. "I assume you will try to avoid mentioning my parents by name?"
"Yes," Lois said. "That would be too risky. If it got back to Scardino that a stranger had been in your hometown asking about the names I gave him, I think he would definitely decide that I was too involved."
She wondered if Clark would ask for clarification regarding her being *too involved*, but he didn't. "What are you going to say?"
Lois rose onto her elbows, and Clark's fingers stilled on her foot. "I need you to understand that sometimes, in order to get information, you have to use ways that seem a bit heartless," she said.
"I just want to know what happened to them," Clark said desperately. "But without putting them at further risk."
She smiled, hoping it would reassure him.
He continued spreading relaxation through her ankle. Lois knew he was waiting for her ... waiting for her to decide if she wanted to tell him the plan. And if she didn't, she knew he wouldn't push her.
She settled back onto the pillow. "My plan is to go into the cafe and say that I'm a junior reporter for a city newspaper. I'll say that I've been given one chance to impress my editor, and he's given me a story about mysteries in small country towns."
Clark's fingers slid along her foot towards her toes.
"I'll say I've heard that Granville has a big mystery," Lois continued. "Hidden treasure or something equally unprovable. I figure that if your parents never returned, someone will try to convince me that Smallville's mystery is more newsworthy than Granville's."
Clark nodded. To her relief, there was nothing in his face to indicate he was distressed by her reducing his parents' plight to a contest between rival towns for the attention of a big city paper. "I think that will work," he said. He glanced to her other foot.
Lois moved it closer to him.
He carefully laid her left foot on the mattress and picked up her right. "About ten years ago, one of the farmers in Granville bred a promising colt. It's not really horse country, and there was a lot of ridicule - particularly in Smallville. But the stories coming out of Granville were all about how this colt was going to win the big races - the Kentucky Derby and so on. Then, one morning, the colt was found dead in his stable."
"What happened?" Lois asked.
"No one knows. There was no sign of injury, and the most persistent rumour was that he had been poisoned, but the autopsy didn't support that."
"Did they suspect someone from Smallville?"
"Probably," Clark said. He slipped her shoe from her foot. "It certainly did nothing for neighbourly relations."
"So, it was a mystery?" Lois said. "And one that the people of Smallville would probably not want re-visited in case the suspicion swung back towards them?"
Clark nodded. "They are not going to want it in a big city paper."
"Thanks," Lois said. "It's sad about the horse and the bad feeling between the towns, but it works well for us." She wondered if having his attention on her foot was helping him through this. She was certainly enjoying it. "Clark?"
"Uhhmm?"
"Are you OK with me going out to the farm? I'll only go if I know for sure that your parents aren't there."
"What if someone catches you there?" Clark said as his fingers skimmed across her ankle. "They'll think you're trespassing."
"I'll be careful."
"Do you intend to go into the house?"
"Yeah."
"I don't have a key."
Lois hadn't expected he would have a key. "That's OK," she said. "I know something about picking locks."
She sensed his amusement, but when he spoke, it wasn't evident in his voice. "That makes it worse," he said. "That means the charge will be 'breaking and entering'."
"We could get a lot of information," Lois said. "We could find out if anyone has lived there in the last seven years. I'll look for anything that might give us a hint about what happened to them. I think it's worth the risk."
Clark turned his attention to delving into the slopes of her ankle. His touch was amazing. Her other foot was still tingling. "There's a woman called Rachel Harris," he said. "She was a junior police officer seven years ago. She's probably the sheriff by now. If you get into big trouble, try to talk to her."
"And tell her what?"
"If you can talk to her alone, you could tell her that you know Clark Kent. Tell her that I asked you to go into the house. I trust her."
Lois shook her head. "I can't do that," she said. "This operation has the highest possible security rating. If I were to tell anyone - even a sheriff - that would be the end of my career."
"What if you're about to be charged?"
"That's a part of the job."
"But this trip hasn't been authorised," Clark said. "Doesn't that mean you won't have anyone to pull the strings to get the charges dropped?"
"I won't get caught," Lois said.
Clark's fingers stilled on her ankle, and he stared at them.
"What are you thinking?" Lois asked softly.
He looked at her. "That a lot could go wrong. That I should be protesting more about you doing anything that could be dangerous."
Lois grinned. "Protesting probably wouldn't work," she told him.
He nodded with grim acceptance. "I figured that."
"Clark," Lois said. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just try to think about tomorrow night, and us having a lovely meal together." Except every time she thought about tomorrow night, her stomach contracted. Would Clark feel like eating if he'd been exposed to the rods?
The mention of their meal didn't lift Clark's mood. "Near the end of the driveway, there's an old eastern red cedar," he continued. "If you park behind that, no one will be able to see the car from the road."
"OK, thanks."
"Go past the maples to the back of the house and enter through the kitchen door. The bedrooms are upstairs."
"Which room was yours?"
"On the left at the top of the stairs."
His anxiety hovered like a dark cloud. "Whatever happens, we will deal with it together tomorrow evening," Lois said. An image shot into her mind - an image of Clark, coiled in pain.
He stared to where his fingers had stilled on her ankle. "If Trask did kill them seven years ago, that wouldn't be the worst outcome."
Lois swallowed, as another round of gruesome images crowded into her mind.
Clark turned fully to her. "Will you promise me two things, please, Lois?"
She nodded.
"*Please* be careful. I know this is your job, but please be careful. We don't know what happened. We don't even know if the farmhouse is being watched."
"I doubt it has been watched all these years."
"But you don't *know* that." He took a deep breath. "And secondly, whatever you find out, please tell me. Please don't try to spare me by not telling me. Regardless of how bad it is."
She nodded. "Whatever I find out, I will tell you."
"Thanks." The concern was still in his eyes. "And you'll be careful?"
"I'll be very careful."
Clark jolted suddenly, and his face closed.
"What is it?" Lois asked.
"Nothing."
Lois sat up and moved into his line of sight. "That's probably the first lie I've ever heard you tell," she said with a little smile.
"It *is* nothing," Clark stressed.
"But?"
"I don't want to scare you."
"Clark, I've been to scarier places than Smallville, Kansas. If you know something, I'd really appreciate it if you'd tell me."
"It's not anything like that. It was just a horrible thought that occurred to me."
"Tell me."
"Do you know where Moyne is?"
Her heart stalled. "Moyne?"
"He was with Trask when they came to the farmhouse. He knows where I used to live."
"He's in the hospital."
"He only had a concussion, didn't he?"
"I haven't heard."
"But it's possible he's been released from the hospital."
"Scardino said he would ensure that Moyne went directly from the hospital to his next assignment."
Clark settled back against the wall. Lois could see his trepidation.
She put her hand on his forearm. "I'll be OK, Clark," she said. "I'll only be there for a few hours."
"I ... I'm sorry," he said. He put his other hand on top of hers. "It's just that I can't stand the thought of you being hurt. And I hate that I can't do a single thing to help you."
"I'll be fine," Lois said with a reassuring smile. "This is what I do. I go into a place, and I find out information. I know the risks. I've been trained. And I've gotten out of places far worse than Smallville, Kansas."
Clark looked down and seemed to become aware of how intimately his hand was on hers. He lifted it away.
"In those first few days when Trask was asking you about what you could do, did you ask him about your parents?" Lois said.
"He said that they had forfeited their right to freedom by their traitorous act of harbouring an alien."
Lois tightened her grip on his arm. "Aww, Clark," she said.
He stared ahead, and Lois could see the tension straining through his face and neck.
"Did he give you any specific information?" she asked. "About where they were? About whether they were well?"
"No. He wouldn't answer any of my questions."
"No messages? Nothing from them at all?"
"Trask told me a few things. Things he said my mom had asked to be passed on to me."
"Do you think they came from her?"
"No. I'm sure they weren't from her. Not unless they forced her."
His fear for his parents was obvious. Lois figured there was a good chance that Trask had seen it, too. And used it as the cruellest of weapons to guarantee Clark's cooperation.
Lois waited, sensing he needed time. She reclined onto the mattress and returned her foot to Clark's thigh.
His hands cupped her ankle. "Lois?"
"Uhmm?"
"I'd like to ask you a question."
"OK."
His head turned, and his eyes crashed into hers. "You've seen the things I can do. You've seen me float. You've seen me heat food. You've seen me cut wood with my eyes. You know that I caught a fired bullet and only sustained a small graze."
She waited.
"Your acceptance of my differences astounds me even more than those differences astound you," he said. "Why aren't you scared that I will hurt you?"
His expectation that people would fear him ripped through her, leaving a trail of regret and indignation. "You won't hurt me," Lois declared.
"Of course not," he said. "But how do you *know* that?"
"You didn't have to save me when Moyne fired my gun," Lois said. "You could have hurt me when Moyne was unconscious. You've had endless opportunities, and you've done everything to assure me that you're not a threat."
"But you seemed to *know*," he said. "Even before you knew me, you seemed to know that I wasn't a threat."
"I did."
"How?" he persisted. "How do you know that I won't zap you with my eyes and burn you to ashes? How do you know that I won't snap your ankle as I rub it? How can you be sure that I won't - even accidently - injure you?"
Lois smiled as the answer sharpened to crisp clarity. "Because I don't see the things you can do," she said.
"Then what do you see?"
"I've already told you - I see your heart."
His mouth fell open, but drifted shut without uttering a sound.
Lois sat up and put her hand on his. "I see your heart, Clark," she said. "And I am sure that you will do *everything* in your considerable power *not* to hurt me or anyone else."
His throat jumped a few times, and Lois wasn't expecting him to reply.
"You've spoken about getting me out of here," Clark said, more steadily than she would have thought possible.
"Yes."
"I can only assume that you have no concerns about the safety of any human - even if the alien was loose again."
Lois tightened her hold on his hand. "I am sure that the world will be a safer place with you in it," she said.
His eyes burned into hers. "No doubts?"
She stared right back. "Not for one second."
Clark pulled in a deep breath. "I wish that I had the words to convey how you make me feel," he said.
"I don't need words," she said. "I can see it in your eyes."
He pulled back a little, easing the intensity of the unseen bond between them. "That's a good thing," he said with a small smile. "Because I don't think I'll ever be able to express my appreciation for what you've done for me."
He'd done so much for her, too, and Lois wanted him to know that. "Clark," she said. "I'm not ready to talk about some things yet, but I want you to know that when I am ready, you will have played a big part in that."
He looked confused. "I haven't done anything," he said.
"You've done plenty," she said. "You trusted me - and that helped me to begin to trust myself again. You showed me your strength, and that helped me to get up and keep going when I didn't think I could. You showed me that darkness can only overcome light if I let it."
His surprise melted her heart. He swallowed again. "It feels to me as if you *are* my light," he said.
Lois quickly blinked against her surging tears. "We should clean up this mess," she said. "Because if I don't move, I'm going to cry. And this time, it *will* be your fault."
She could see that he was flailing between nervousness that she would cry and pleasure derived from the deeper meaning of her statement. He followed her example and took refuge in the practical. "We should get the bedding into your office before Longford arrives."
"We can leave the mattress here," Lois said. "Scardino's seen that."
"OK." Clark's smile lifted her spirits. "But I think Winnie the Pooh has to go."
"You're probably right."
Clark reached for her shoes, put them on her feet, and tied the laces. Lois resisted the urge to help. "Thank you, Clark," she said when he'd finished.
"You're welcome." He rose from the mattress and held out his hand to help her up.
Once she was standing, she tightened her grasp on his hand. "Try not to worry tomorrow," she said.
He nodded, but Lois knew that nothing she said was going to make the long hours of waiting more bearable for him.
"I'll get the water for you to wash."
"Thanks."
Fifteen minutes later, the cell was empty of everything except the jigsaw puzzle, a bottle of water, the tin containing his toiletries, and the mattress.
Lois and Clark stood together - her in the doorway, him inside the cell.
"Do you want the pillow?" Lois said.
"Do you think it will matter if they see it?" Clark asked.
"No," Lois said. She pushed it at Clark, and he took it.
His arms hung limply by his sides, and the pillow drooped against his leg.
What to do now?
Hug him?
Hold him?
Wave?
What?
The journey they had travelled today was too momentous to end with a simple 'goodbye'.
"What do you want?" Lois asked.
"I want you back safely tomorrow," Clark replied.
And he wanted to know what had happened to his parents.
Lois managed a smile. "I meant now," she said.
A rueful smile broke out from his awkwardness. "You want *me* to decide?" he asked with a trace of incredulity.
"Would you be horrified if I hugged you?"
He looked down. Looked up. His expression was a medley of just about every emotion possible. "Is that what you want to do?"
Lois decided that her impulsiveness might just be the answer here. She stepped forward and put her arms around his neck. She tightened for a fleeting second and then drew away. His arms hadn't moved, but she wasn't fazed. She smiled to show him that everything was OK. "I promise you that I will be back tomorrow evening," she said.
"Thank you."
"I'll come here directly from the airport, I'll get rid of Longford, and then I'll be in here as quickly as possible."
"Thank you."
"Good night, Clark." She wanted to say that she hoped Scardino stayed away. She wanted to say how much the thought of him being exposed to the rods tore at her heart, but he looked as if this goodbye had gone as long as he could endure.
"Good night, Lois."
She stepped back into the staffroom. "I will see you tomorrow."
He nodded.
Lois closed the door and locked it.
She pressed her ear against the door and heard the slow, sad rhythm of his footsteps walking away from her.
Lois scanned the staffroom for anything else that needed to be removed. There was nothing. She went to the closet and collected the rod.
In her office, she put all the rods into the corner - there was more room now that Scardino had taken Trask's boxes.
She hesitated for a long moment, pondering what to do with the camera. The tape could stay - she had effectively wiped it clean by recording a black screen. She pulled the curtain away and threw it onto her desk.
Should she set the camera to record tomorrow?
No, she decided. Whatever happened, she could ask Clark about it. And if her fears were realised, and Scardino and the higher-up went into the cell, she wouldn't be able to endure watching Clark suffer.
Longford arrived just before ten o'clock, and Lois went down to the staffroom. He looked at her diffidently, and she wondered if he were embarrassed by the events of the morning.
"Hi, Longford," Lois said brightly.
He nodded and then looked at the door to the cell.
"Situation fixed," she said.
"I ... I was probably too hasty in some of the things I said this morning," Longford said.
"Don't worry about it," Lois said. "It worked out well because now the door doesn't need to be opened."
"What about his washing bowl? That won't fit through the pet door."
"I'll get a hose, and we'll run water directly from the faucet at the sink through the pet door and into the bowl."
"You don't have the hose yet? You don't want me to give him water?"
"I don't have it yet," Lois said. "All you have to do is push his breakfast in there tomorrow morning. He'll be subdued anyway; I used the rods to ensure the pet door guy was OK."
Longford nodded as if that answered an unvoiced question.
"Could you tell Shadbolt that there is a possibility of a visit from Scardino and a higher-up tomorrow?"
"OK," Longford said. "And I'll be back at two o'clock to do your shift."
"Thanks," Lois said. "I'll get here as soon as I can, and then you can go home."
"I ... I don't mind doing the full shift," Longford said. "I can stay until ten."
Lois smiled, and with a lowered voice she said, "Actually, after the day I'm expecting to have tomorrow, it will be a relief to get here for some peace and quiet."
Longford nodded with understanding.
"His lunch is in the fridge," Lois continued. "But his evening meal won't be delivered here. I'll pick it up when I get something for myself."
"OK."
"I'll just get my bag from upstairs and be out of here." Lois said. In her office, she stood next to the window, looking at Clark. He was lying on the mattress, facing away from her. His bushy hair covered a lot of the pillow, and she felt a spike of excitement at the thought of seeing him clean-shaven and with neat, short hair.
"Stay safe," she muttered.
He turned over abruptly, sat up, and looked at the window. His hand raised in greeting.
Lois grinned. She was going to have to remember how well he could hear.
"I'm going now," she said. "I'll be back tomorrow, and we'll spend the evening together."
He waved again.
Lois turned away as the thought of being separated from Clark for so many hours chipped a lonely chasm through her heart.
||_||
~~ Wednesday ~~
Lois got out of the rental car and looked along the sprawling main street of Smallville. A few people were dotted on the sidewalk, but it felt decidedly sedate after the bustle of Metropolis. Twenty yards to her left was a cafe.
She bent low to glance in the side mirror and adjusted her spiky blonde wig. It made her appear younger ... maybe not younger, but definitely like someone desperately trying to look younger.
Younger - she'd discovered - worked well. If you were female *and* young, the general perception was that your head was filled with little more than fashion and the love lives of celebrities.
Which usually worked to her advantage.
Lois sauntered along the sidewalk and into the cafe. It looked like it was still hopelessly stuck in the sixties. She gazed around her, wide-eyed.
"What can I do for you, love?"
Lois slowly turned towards the voice. "I think I'm lost," she said with a not-quite-suppressed giggle.
The older woman smiled. "You're in Smallville, Kansas," she said.
"Smallville?" Lois said plaintively. "But I'm supposed to be in Granville."
The woman snorted. "Why would you want to go to a hole like that, love?"
Lois stepped up to the counter. "I'm a reporter," she said. She giggled again. "Well, I *want* to be a reporter, and like, I've been given a try-out with a big city paper, and like, the editor gave me a story about unsolved mysteries, and he told me there was something about a horse, and it had happened in Granville, Kansas."
The older woman wiped her hands on her apron. "That would be the racehorse poisoning in the eighties," she said. "Can I get you a drink? Something to eat?"
"A cup of tea, please," Lois said. "No milk, no sugar."
The woman dropped a tea bag into a cup. "I'm Maisie," she said with a friendly smile. "And if you want a story that is really going to impress your editor, you shouldn't go chasing a dead horse in Granville; you should look right here in Smallville."
Lois glanced outside and wrinkled her nose. "Ahhh ... thanks, but I think I should just do what my editor said. This could be my big break. If he likes my story, I have a chance to get a permanent position."
Maisie put the cup of tea in front of Lois. "A dollar. Thanks, love," she said. "But if you surprise him with a bigger, more interesting story, he'll realise that you have initiative."
Lois paused in the act of taking the bill from her purse. "Well," she said doubtfully. "It's going to take a few minutes to drink my tea, so if you really want to ..."
Maisie smiled as she placed the bill in the register. "Come and sit down, love," she said. "And I'll tell you a story that'll really get your interest."
Lois took her tea to the square Formica table and sat down. Maisie slid into the opposite seat with a loud sigh.
As Lois sipped her tea, memories of Linda came flooding back. Lois only ever drank tea without milk when she was undercover. The bitter, pungent taste worked as a reminder that she wasn't Lois Lane but someone else.
Maisie plonked her elbows on the worn Formica. "Do you have paper?" she asked.
"Tell me about Smallville's big mystery," Lois said. "And if I think there's like, a story in it, I'll take some notes."
"Well," Maisie said. "Just over seven years ago, a local family, the Kents, disappeared."
Lois lifted one eyebrow in a look of disbelief. "They *disappeared*?" she said.
Maisie nodded eagerly. "They simply disappeared. Here one day. Gone the next."
"What? Like the entire family? Mom, Dad, and all the kids?"
"The parents, Martha and Jonathan, and their son, Clark."
"And then what happened? Did they come back?"
"Nope," Maisie said triumphantly. "Never heard of 'em ever again."
Lois slowly sipped from her tea, pretending to consider the information while, in the deep recesses of her heart, she grieved for what this would mean to Clark. "What happened to them?" she asked.
"That's the mystery," Maisie said. "Nobody knows."
"This would have been in all the papers," Lois said. "I really don't think there is a story here after all this time."
"It was in some of the papers," Maisie admitted. "But when the police found no clues to their whereabouts, the interest died."
"Did they find the bodies?"
Maisie vigorously shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "Not a trace."
"I think the Granville story is better," Lois said. "At least they have a body."
Maisie leant across the table. "The rumour is that they were abducted by aliens."
Lois stared in open-mouthed, jaw-suspended shock. "Aliens?" she gasped. "Do people around here believe in aliens?"
Maisie didn't flinch. "Old Jack Wetherly from out that way swears he saw a spaceship in the field years ago."
Lois gulped down the rest of her tea and rose from the table. "Thanks, Maisie," she said.
Maisie stood. "Are you going to investigate? It makes sense, you know, that the government would cover it up. I mean, can you imagine the uproar if it were proven that they'd been taken by aliens?"
"I think -"
"Would you like to know how to get to the Kent's place? The neighbour, Wayne Irig, has been working the farm - someone had to look after the animals - but no one's touched the house in seven years."
"Which way to Granville?" Lois said.
"You're not even going to follow it up?" Maisie asked, disappointment drizzling from every word.
Lois shook her head. "I get one shot at this story," she said. "If I take my editor a story about an alien abduction, that's going to finish my career before it even starts."
"OK," Maisie conceded. "Granville's that way." She pointed south down the quiet street. "About half a mile out of town, there's a turn off to your left."
Lois nodded. "Thanks," she said.
She got into the rental car and drove out of Smallville on the road towards Granville.
