Cat couldn’t help but ask once more. “You’re saying Newcomb just gave you the card key?”
“For the nineteenth time, Cat, yes, he gave us the card key as soon as Clark told him that Thompson was dead.”
“I haven’t asked you about it nineteen times.”
“Just seventeen,” Clark quipped.
“Shut up, Kent,” Lois ordered. “Cat, do you have your weapon with you?”
Cat lifted her Smith and Wesson nine-millimeter and wiggled it at the sky. “Right here. Fully loaded and ready for bear – a small one, anyway.”
“Good,” said Lois. “I’ve got my Beretta ready. Kent, I know you’re not armed, so you lead us in. We’ll cover you on both sides, me on the right.” The women took up positions on either side of the warehouse entry door. “I’ll count us down from three-two-one-go, and you open the door with the card. Ready?”
Both Cat and Clark nodded. “Okay,” breathed Lois. “Three – two – one – go!”
Clark opened the door with the card key and charged in, looking ready to fight a platoon of world-dominating bad guys. Cat followed and went left while Lois went right. They raised their weapons and sought targets.
They found none.
The door behind them slid shut. Across the room was another door.
Great, thought Cat, we’re shut down before we start.
She noticed the red LED display on the far wall next to the exit door. It was ticking down by seconds, and she watched it roll from twenty-seven to twenty-six before she could say, “Got a problem.”
By the time Lois asked what was wrong, Clark was in front of the touch-key panel with his glasses pulled down on his nose. The display read twenty-two seconds when he started touching buttons.
“Clark?” asked Cat.
“Touch pad opens the door,” he replied, “and turns off the vent. Keys with the most wear are 1, 4, 7, and 8. Looks like an old data center halon fire suppression system.”
The display clicked to 16. Lois reached out to grab him. “How do you know—”
Cat pulled her back and whispered in her ear. “Let him work. That halon system, if that’s what this is, would suck all the oxygen out of the air and suffocate us.”
“The General didn’t mention a code for a second door. He must not have known about it.”
Cat lifted one eyebrow. “Or maybe he did.”
Lois gave Cat a hard look, then shrugged and stepped back.
Clark tapped buttons furiously as the display rolled down to 11 – to 8 – to 3 – and then the door swooshed open and the counter reset itself to 30.
Clark leaned in and listened for a long moment, then quietly said, “I don’t think anyone’s home. But let’s not dawdle.”
Lois hustled after him as he slipped inside. Cat, though, took a quick moment to check out the touch key panel. Her eyesight was better than 20/20. She should have seen any wear on the keys larger than a human hair.
She saw nothing. Clark had either seen something very few other humans could have noticed or—
There was no ‘or’ about it. He’d seen something that Cat couldn’t detect. The proof was that they were still breathing good old slightly filtered Metropolis smog. She lowered her weapon and stepped through the door.
There was no one inside. All they saw was a huge room full of indefinite shapes covered by clear plastic sheeting. They might as well have walked into a paint contractor’s work area, except it was as clean and sterile as an operating room.
Lois holstered her weapon as they walked deeper into the room, followed closely by Cat, who also holstered her weapon. She still followed Lois’ lead on anything related to firearms. The room looked like Salvador Dali had gotten drunk with Pablo Picasso and the two of them had challenged Leroy Neiman to a draw-the-spaceship contest.
Cat reached out and put her hand on a craft off to one side. “If I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. Look at this. I think it’s some kind of metal, but it’s smoother than anything I’ve ever seen before. I’m not even sure I’m touching it.”
Lois walked in the opposite direction. “I’ve got what looks like a small saucer tethered to the floor.” She ducked down and looked under it, then stood and pushed it lightly. “It sways.” She turned to Clark. “This thing is either full of compressed helium or it has a negative weight, like a submarine with positive buoyancy. I think it would float away if I were to unstrap it.” She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “This is either a very expensive Hollywood special effects storage building, a building full of convincing fakes, or – could they possibly be real?”
Neither of the other two answered. Cat was busy watching Clark, and what she saw concerned her. He’d found a relatively small wedged-shaped craft sitting on a wooden rack that looked made for it, and he was staring at it as if it held the secrets of the universe. As she watched, he took something out of the little ship’s open cockpit that seemed to fit in his hand and put it in his jacket pocket.
He looked far too interested in whatever he’d found.
Lois glanced around again – always watching for danger, that one, thought Cat – and slid across the floor to Clark’s side. “Wow,” she breathed. “This one has the same stylized ‘S’ in the triangle that Superman’s uniform has. I wonder if it’s his?”
Cat took a step toward them when Clark snapped his head up and hissed, “Take cover!” Cat pulled out her pistol and ducked behind the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. She saw Lois scramble under an almost-arrowhead-shaped shiny silver craft that appeared to produce its own light. She cut her eyes toward Clark, but he’d disappeared.
She started to back away from the middle of the room, but something she assumed was a metal tube in her lower back convinced her to stop where she was. She slowly turned her head, and behind her she saw two of the goons from the day of the fake warrant, one with his weapon in her spine and one about six feet away with his pistol held at the ready. Cat sighed and let her S&W dangle from her trigger finger.
The nearer thug took her weapon, then pointed to guide her back the way she’d come. Trask stood in the middle of the open central area, surrounded by four more hard-faced thugs with their pistols held at the ready.
“Good morning, Miss Grant,” he said. “So glad you could join us. How are things with you?”
Cat slowly looked to either side at her guards. “I’ve had better starts to the day.”
Trask chuckled. “Let’s see if this one improves.” He raised his voice. “Miss Lane, I’m relatively certain that Miss Grant would prefer that you come to me. If my men need to come and find you, it could get messy.”
Silence reigned for a long breath. On the one hand, if Lois came in, Trask would have both of them in his power, and they both might end up dead. On the other hand, if Lois didn’t come in, Cat could easily end up dead, and Lois would have little chance to overcome the odds she faced. It was not fun to contemplate either choice.
Clark was the only wild card. Maybe he could—
No. Even as she thought about it, one of Trask’s men shoved Clark to the floor in front of the former staff sergeant turned into whatever he was now. Before Cat could go to Clark’s aid, he’d climbed to his feet and brushed off his suit – a practically meaningless gesture, since the building and its contents were all but dust-free.
Clark glared at Trask and said, “You’re interfering with a Daily Planet investigation, Staff Sergeant. You have no idea how much pain you’ve just bought yourself.”
Trask meandered to Clark and smiled. “I’m no longer a non-com, Mr. Kent. I’m de facto director of Bureau 39 operating under a U.S. government mandate. And your threats mean nothing to me.” He turned and spoke loudly to the building at large. “Miss Lane, I now have both Miss Grant and Mr. Kent. If you don’t surrender to me, I’ll start shooting at their knees.” He drew his sidearm and racked a round into the chamber. “I believe you know how painful and damaging that can be.”
A tense moment fell over the group. “All right,” called out Trask, “we’ll start with Miss Grant. The right kneecap would be best for our purposes, I think.”
Clark snapped his hand out of the grasp of the man behind him and took a step closer. “Is that what you did with George Thompson?”
“You won’t get out of this by invoking him, Kent.”
“Why did you kill him, Trask? What kind of threat could he be to you?”
The man behind Clark said, “What? Colonel Thompson is dead?”
Another man barked out, “You said you were going to hold him, not kill him!”
Trask stepped back and lifted one hand. “Colonel Thompson was going to take over Bureau 39. He would have arrested all of us, made us face courts martial. Worst of all, he was going to allow the alien free rein over the entire country!”
“And that would be bad how, Trask?”
Lois had taken advantage of the distraction over Thompson and silently walked up on the entire group. Her question seemed to snap Trask into his paranoia all over again. “Because we can’t control him!” he shouted. “If he went rogue, we couldn’t stop him, not now, maybe not ever! He’s probably the advance scout for an alien invasion! We have to discover his weaknesses, his vulnerabilities, and end him before he takes over the country!”
“What has he done to make you think he’d do that, Trask?” asked Cat.
Trask waved his hand at the collection of spaceships around them. “Why wouldn’t he? Every one of the occupants of these craft had evil intent aimed at either the United States or the entire globe. They wanted our natural resources, our valuable metals, our industry, our population to use as slaves. We stopped all of them before they could execute their nefarious plans. We and the others who came before us saved the world!”
“So you killed all of them?” Clark snarled. “Without talking to them, without giving them a chance to explain themselves, without finding out whether or not they were here to conquer or share, without asking if they wanted to be trading partners or even friends?”
Trask’s face was getting redder almost by the word. “Enough! Get them into the VTOL craft. We’ve still got a mission.” He turned to Lois. “Hand me your weapon, very carefully, and don’t let your trigger finger get itchy. Oh, by the way, whichever one of you has a mobile phone, hand it over now.”
Cat thought that Lois would have won the staring contest if there hadn’t been so many firearms pointed at them. As it was, Lois waited until Trask flinched ever so slightly before she let out a deep breath and handed him her pistol and the phone.
*****
Jimmy knocked on the door, but no one responded. There was some kind of rhythmic percussion coming from the apartment, and he thought he heard regular grunts as if someone were exercising, but the door remained closed. He hammered on the door several times and called out, “Lois! The Chief needs to talk to you!”
The room went silent, then the door flew open to reveal a young woman standing away from the door. She was slightly shorter than Lois, had a face covered in sweat, and her hair was imperfectly contained in a damp ponytail. Her breathing was deep and almost rapid. Her raised hand held a spray container. “Start talking sense or it’s pepper spray time.”
He laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Peace, okay? I’m looking for Lois. She and I work together.” He lowered his hands and gave her what he thought was his most suave smile. “You must be her sister Lucy.”
Lucy lowered the canister in her hand and nodded. “That’s me. What did you say your name was?”
“I don’t think I said. I’m Jimmy Olsen. I work with Lois at the Daily Planet.”
“She’s mentioned your name a couple of times.” She shook her head. “Lois isn’t here. I thought she was on a story assignment.”
“She is, but we’ve lost track of her. No problem, though – this isn’t the first time she’s gone off the reservation. And she’s always popped up with a great story when she came back.”
She held the door open for a long moment, then asked, “Is that all you wanted?”
“Yeah – no, actually, it’s not. Um – would you consider going out with me?”
“Me.”
“Yes, you.”
“Going out with you.”
“Yes, with me.”
“Just me and you, no Lois.”
“Nope. No big sister to get in the way.”
“Go out together, like on a date.”
“Not just like a date. An actual, real, functional date.”
Lucy tilted her head at him. “So, Jimmy – it is Jimmy, right?” He nodded. “So, Jimmy, you came here looking for my sister, but you’re willing to settle for me?”
He felt his eyes widen and he stammered, “No! I – Lois and I don’t – we’re not—”
Her smile grew and she said, “Okay.”
“No, we don’t – okay?” This time she nodded. “Just to make sure I understand, could you tell me what we’re agreeing to?”
“I’ll go on a date with you, Jimmy Olsen.”
He felt happy and relieved at the same time. “Great! That’s great. I’ll call you here if that’s okay.”
“That’s more than okay.”
“Smooth. I’ll give you a call once Lois checks out my medical records.”
“What? When Lois – what?” Her voice rose and took on that piercing quality he associated with her sister. “What did she do this time?”
He laughed again. “Nothing except tell me that you were a big girl and made your own decisions on who you dated. The part about the medical records was a joke she made.” He turned and headed down the hall toward the elevator. “I’ll call later today and we can go out tonight. If that’s okay with you, of course. And thanks for giving me a shot.”
The last thing he heard as the elevator door closed was her silver laugh.
*****
Trask’s men herded the reporters to a V-22 Osprey, a propeller-driven plane whose twin engines could point upward for vertical takeoff or landing – hence the acronym VTOL – and whose wings could rotate forward to the traditional configuration and fly like a cargo plane. This one lifted off from an enclosed area behind the warehouse with walls three stories high. Lois didn’t understand how the plane could be hidden from the neighboring businesses until she realized that they probably flew at only night when no one was around except a few homeless people, and what cop would believe a homeless addict’s story about a weird helicopter in the neighborhood?
And since they’d taken off in daylight, Trask apparently wasn’t planning on keeping the warehouse as an active B39 location.
Trask walked to the head of the ramp in the rear of the plane as the pilot reconfigured the wings to fly forward. Trask’s men pushed the reporters to the back near him. “I think at least one of you three knows how to contact Superman. Maybe all of you know how. You wouldn’t answer my questions when we tried to interview you at the newspaper, so I’m going to ask each of you once more. Can you contact the alien?”
Lois thought about jumping him, but she knew that none of the reporters were armed and all of Trask’s party were. “And why would we cooperate, Staff Sergeant?”
He glared at her for a moment, then pulled his face into a half-smile. “I’ve been promoted since you saw that picture of me in Project Bluebook, Miss Lane. I’m now the equivalent of an Air Force lieutenant colonel.” He reached out and pushed a large red button and the rear ramp of the plane began descending. “And I still want an answer to my question. Let’s see – I think we’ll start with Miss Grant.”
One of the other thugs pushed Cat toward Trask, who caught her by the arm and held on tight. “Miss Grant, I want to know and I want to know now. Can you contact the alien?”
Cat’s face paled as the wind from the open ramp blew her hair into her face. She gripped Trask’s arm with all her strength. “No – no I can’t contact him! I just – he shows up and helps and then flies away!”
“But you’ve interviewed him, haven’t you?”
“Yes – but only for quotes on whatever he’s just done. I don’t know how to call him!”
Trask lifted a headset from the wall and held it against his head. “This is the colonel. What’s our altitude? How long until we’re over the target at angels fourteen? Good. Yes, maintain course and speed.”
“Trask!” Lois shouted. “You’d better let her go now!”
“Why, Miss Lane? Do you know how to contact Superman?”
“None of us do! As far as I know, Superman doesn’t have a phone!”
“Ah, but what about telepathy? Or some sensory organ in his chest that homes in on you? Is that how he finds you so easily?”
“You – I am so going to fill up that cuss jar with your money when we land!”
“That won’t be my problem, Miss Lane.” He looked at Cat. “But I think Miss Grant should lead that landing parade.”
The handset Trask held buzzed for a moment and he lifted it to his head again. “We’re over the target? Angels fourteen? Good.” He hung the headset on the wall. “Mister Kent may not know that ‘angels fourteen’ means fourteen thousand feet of altitude. We’re ready now.”
Clark spread his feet and braced himself. “What are you ready for?”
Trask smiled like a werewolf about to get a snack. “This.”
He turned and threw Cat down the ramp. There was nothing for her to grab before she tumbled out the back.
*****
Lois threw herself on Trask with a scream and went for his throat. As he tried to fight her off, Clark pretended to stumble and rolled off the end of the ramp, then dove out of sight.
He’d never spun into the Suit while diving that fast, but it worked. He caught up with Cat and zoomed to the ground with her in the woods north of Metropolis.
“Miss Grant! Miss Grant, are you all right?”
Cat stood for a few seconds, then her eyes glazed over and she would have fallen prone instead of just to her knees had he not caught her. He lifted her head with a finger under her chin. “Miss Grant! I need to save Lois. Will you be all right here?”
Cat’s eyes cleared and she nodded. “Y – yes. Go – go save them.”
“Are you sure you—”
Her voice hardened. “Go now! Save them!”
He nodded and stepped back, leaving her kneeling on the dirt where she’d landed. Before she could take another breath to tell him to go, he was gone.
*****
Lois landed a knife hand blow to the side of Trask’s throat, then drew back for another strike. But two more men grabbed her by the arms and pulled her away while a third punched her in the back between the shoulder blades. Stunned, she fell to the aircraft’s floor, unable to get up.
Trask coughed hard twice and allowed another man to help him stand. He stumbled to a display in the side of the compartment which Lois hadn’t noticed before.
“Target – *cough-cough* – target below us at angels eight and coming fast. Give me – target lock!”
Another man stepped to a second display and fiddled with the controls for a moment, then yelled, “Target acquired! Nuts! Too close to fire!”
Lois tried to sit up and demand what they were going to fire – whatever it was, they had to be aiming at Superman – but she couldn’t do either yet. Trask pointed at her and said, “Out! Distract – alien!”
The two men who’d pulled her off Trask grabbed her arms and shoved her onto the ramp, where she slid down to the bottom and fell out into nothing. Her last sight of the Osprey showed her a missile tube mounted under the fuselage as the plane banked and turned back the way it had come.
She tried to shout for help but she couldn’t catch her breath. Suddenly two powerful arms enveloped her and she settled into them.
It was Superman, obviously, and he was saving her life.
For years, both in the military and in civilian life, Lois had led men by example. She’d set the bar as high as she could, and anyone who wanted to follow her had to meet or exceed her standards. She’d been independent, firm, unyielding, and hadn’t truly needed any man.
Now she needed a man to save her life. Without his assistance, she’d be dead in seconds.
Somehow she didn’t care. She wanted someone to save her, to take care of her, to be with her and go through life with her. She wanted to need someone.
She wanted to need the man in whose arms she now rested.
Too quickly they touched down in the woods. She thought about kissing Superman, but then remembered Trask talking about shooting at the hero. “Superman! Trask is – he wants to shoot you down! The plane has at least one missile!”
Cat chose that moment to limp close enough to hear them. “Go get Clark!” she yelled. “He’s still up there!”
Lois’ mouth dropped open. She looked stricken for moment, then said, “Cat’s right! Save Clark and dodge the missile! Go!”
He took off over the nearby lake at an angle, and that’s when Lois saw the exhaust trail pointing at their position. It changed course as soon as Superman took off.
“Come on, Cat! We need to get closer!”
“Why, so Trask can drop a nuke on us?”
“No! So we can help!”
“How are you going to help Superman? There’s nothing we—”
The explosion drew their attention.
Lois estimated that the missile detonated at least seven thousand feet up and over Lake Chichimway, and that the debris should fall in the lake at least two miles from their position. She turned to Cat and cried out, “If that idiot hurt Superman—” Then a horrible thought struck her. “What about Clark? Where is he?”
Just then Clark ran over a rise a little beyond them. “There you are!” he shouted. “Are you two okay?”
He skidded to a stop between them, a step closer to Lois than to Cat. Lois grabbed him around the neck and whispered, “I thought you were dead.”
He returned the embrace gently. “Superman caught me right after he caught Cat.”
He slipped from Lois’ arms – something she realized she wished he wouldn’t do – and gave Cat a hug. She started to return it, then grabbed his upper arms and moved a half-step back. Lois was surprised – Cat looked like she’d seen a ghost as she stared into Clark’s eyes.
Cat shook her head, then hooked one arm through Clark’s. “Come on, you two, let’s try to find a phone. I’ve heard these woods get cold at night, and I want my nice warm bed and comforter tonight. Lois, are you good to lead us? I still feel a little shaky.”
“Sure, Cat. You just let me know if you need to stop and rest, okay?”
“That goes for you, too, Lois,” Clark said. “If you need to rest your knee, just say so.”
Lois gave him a direct look. Normally a reminder like that would get a sharp comeback from her, but she held back from snapping at him. She thought about it for a moment, then decided that she did so because she could see that Clark was sincere and would never say anything snarky about her needing to rest, nor would he discuss it with anyone except maybe Cat. It was yet another piece of the puzzle that was Clark Kent – with everything else she already knew about him, he was a gentleman.
*****
They’d been walking for almost an hour when Cat surprised Lois and called for a ten-minute rest break, claiming that her stylish shoes were hurting her feet. Lois didn’t say anything, but her leg was most grateful. She suspected that Cat had seen her laboring and had taken pity on her, but since she got to sit fairly close to Clark, she wasn’t offended in the least.
Nearly forty minutes after resuming their trek and five miles down the road, they found a bait and tackle store serving Lake Chichimway’s customers. Clark called Perry, told him they were all okay, asked him to call the police to secure the warehouse, and asked for a ride back to the city, since none of the store’s current customers were headed in that direction. Almost two hours later, as the sun was taking its final bow for the day, Jimmy and Lucy showed up in his well-used Ford Taurus.
Lucy unlocked the doors and the three wanderers all but fell into the back seat. “When I said you needed to get out more, Sis,” Lucy teased, “this isn’t what I had in mind.”
“Me neither, Punky,” Lois answered. She tapped Jimmy on the shoulder. “Take us to the Bessolo Street warehouse, Olsen.”
Lucy opened her own door and slipped out. “Be right back. I have to make a quick pit stop.”
Cat sighed dramatically. “I suppose you’ll have to stop for gas for your heap, Jimmy.”
“Nope. Topped off the tank before we left the city limits.” He held up a cell phone and showed it to his passengers. “You guys interrupted a lovely dinner date, and it’s too late now to use the concert tickets I bought.”
Cat chuckled. “No wonder you’re so thrilled to see us. Did you at least get to order?”
“Nope. Perry paged me as the valet was parking the car. On the plus side, Lucy was as thrilled at the change in plans as I am. Of course, now she’s got her sister to tease on the way back, so that’s a perk for her.”
“As long as the way back includes the warehouse,” Lois grumbled.
It was Jimmy’s turn to sigh. “I’ll take you, Lois, but you’re not going to be happy about what you find.”
“Why won’t I be happy? That place is a gold mine! What’s wrong with it?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
Lucy chose that moment to return. “I come bearing non-Greek gifts. I hope you like cream soda and moon pies, Jimmy, because that’s about all they had for humans to eat or drink in there.”
He accepted the offering. “Thanks. It’s not baked grouper and vintage Merlot, but it’s better than listening to my stomach rumble.”
“Lucy,” Clark said, “I hope you checked the expiration dates on those moon pies. When they go bad, they go really bad.”
Everyone else, including Lois, laughed softly. Jimmy started the car, shifted into Drive, and pulled out onto the two-lane blacktop highway.
*****
Bill Henderson’s men were checking the building’s interior when Jimmy’s car pulled up in front. He let his extra passengers out and said, “Lois, Inspector Henderson said that if no one else has space in his car, he’ll let you ride back in his trunk.”
Lois tried to summon a glare but was too tired to make it a good one. “Nice try, Olsen. I’ll see you tomorrow and give you my most scathingly brilliant riposte then.”
“Looks like a late night for you, Sis,” Lucy called out. “Try not to wake me when you come in, okay? I have to go to work tomorrow.”
Lois pointed an index finger at her and said, “Same to you, Punky.”
Lucy’s laugh followed Lois into the building. She was mildly surprised that the two doors were propped open and the power seemed to be turned off at both entrances.
It was nothing compared to the shock she felt when she entered the main storage area.
There were no ships there, whether large, medium, or small. All the sheets of plastic were neatly folded and stacked against a side wall. The cell phone Lois had brought with her earlier that day lay atop the tarps with its battery lying beside it. Beside the phone lay both Cat’s and Lois’ pistols, both with slides locked open and full magazines beside them. Lois would’ve bet two grenades and a loaded rocket launcher that there wasn’t any kind of smudge on any of them.
She turned to Perry. “Chief, they were here! Those ships were all here, maybe twenty of them! You wouldn’t believe what we found! We have to go after Bureau 39 hard!”
Perry’s hangdog expression didn’t flicker. “As it happens, Lois, I believe you completely. But since Trask and his men cleared out this building and polished the silver for the queen, you have no proof. We can print how he tossed you three out of a plane and shot a missile at Superman, but we can’t print anything about the ships you found or the other people with him or the bureau itself. Best case scenario if we did, we’d get sued – worst case, we’d get arrested and disappear into the system.”
“Fine! The three of us can still write up what we can prove!”
“No. I’m taking all of you off this story. Get with Myerson before lunch tom—”
“Myerson!” Cat burst out. “Chief, this is our story, our byline! We should write this!”
Perry shook his head. “You three have become part of the story. We couldn’t print it if you wrote it. That’s how the National Whisper operates, but the Daily Planet doesn’t, not even for my best reporting team.” Lois started to turn away, but Perry said, “Now look, you three, I’m not telling you to drop this. I’m telling you that we need verifiable, unassailable facts on these clowns before we take them to task. Put this on the back burner and keep digging. I know you three, and I know you’ll get to the bottom of this as fast as anyone else possibly could.”
Henderson chose that moment to walk up to Perry. “Sorry, but we’re coming up completely dry. If there’s a fingerprint in this place, we put it there within the last few hours. There’s not even any dust to check for movement.” To Cat and Lois, he said, “You two can pick up your weapons at my office any time after ten tomorrow morning. These guys not only left them out like they were displaying them for sale, the serial numbers are visible. We’ll run the numbers for prior crimes tonight, although I can’t be lucky enough to find hot weapons in your possession.”
Clark put his hands behind his back and spoke slowly. “Inspector, this place didn’t build itself. Someone was maintaining it and cleaning it and paying the taxes and the electric bill. Are you telling us you don’t know who that someone is?”
Henderson’s lips pressed into a straight line before he responded. “I’m telling all of you – and mind you, this is a professional courtesy, I don’t have to do this – that we’ve lost the paper trail for the items you’ve mentioned. We can trace the funds back to the consulting firm George Thompson was working for, but we can’t find where that money came from. The trail just heads off into the ether and fades away.”
Henderson reached out and tapped Clark on the chest, a move which made Lois unaccountably angry. “You three find me some other evidence,” the detective continued, “something I can take to the DA, and I’ll not only reopen this investigation, I’ll make it my top priority. I hate it when the Feds run black ops in my city.” He turned and called out to his people, “Let’s wrap it up, folks, unless you’ve got something incriminating. No? Then we have to go solve some of the other six million cases sitting on my desk.”
Cat tapped Lois on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll take you home. Clark, do you need a ride?”
Perry waved his hand. “I’m his Good Samaritan tonight. Besides, I want to see what he’s done with that apartment. And this is for all three of you – don’t come in before lunch tomorrow. Trask hasn’t gotten away with this, but he’s managed to cut the urgency out of this story, so it’ll keep until tomorrow afternoon.”
*****
Lois followed Cat to her Buick and sat on the front passenger side. “I will be so glad to sit on something that isn’t moving.” She stretched out her legs. “Haven’t been this tired since the first week of basic.”
Cat started the car and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. “Yeah, these shoes are made for showing off my legs, not walking.”
Lois didn’t answer. She just closed her eyes and let the sounds of the city relax her. Then Cat said, “You up for a personal conversation?”
With her eyes still shut, Lois rolled her head toward Cat. “Sure. What’s up?”
Cat hesitated, then said, “Clark is up.”
Lois’ eyes popped open and she sat up straight. “What do you mean?”
“I mean – I still like him. Or, maybe I mean that I like who he is now.”
“Oh.” Lois paused, then said, “I remember you telling me that you didn’t want to restart your relationship with him.”
“I know. I remember saying that.”
“So what’s changed?”
Cat stared at the street in front of them and didn’t look at Lois even when they stopped at a traffic light. “You know how I tend to cut off any dating relationship before it gets serious, right?”
“Hard to miss that.”
“I know. I’m getting a reputation for it.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
Cat made a face as she came to a stop sign. “I’ve used a dating service off and on for a couple of years now. They told me last month that I’ve been labeled a heartbreaker, that no one on their listing wants to meet me even for donuts and coffee.”
Instead of laughing, Lois sighed. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you intended.”
“I’ve never told anyone this, but I – I’m pretty sure I’ve been comparing the guys I date with my memory of Clark. And Clark wins that competition every time.”
“You told me you weren’t doing it deliberately.”
“I wasn’t doing it deliberately, but recently I’ve realized that it’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve found myself wishing that I’d handled that whole thing better.” She paused and took in a deep breath. “And now we come to the big question.”
Lois frowned at her friend. “What big question?”
Cat flexed her fingers on the steering wheel and checked her mirrors, all without looking directly at Lois. “I need to know if – if Clark and I – I don’t know, start dating, although that kinda sounds like we’re still in high school – if Clark and I get together how much will it affect our friendship?”
Lois let out a sharp breath. “Wow.” Cat changed lanes and headed down the street to Lois’ apartment building. “You go for the jugular, don’t you, Red?”
“I know, it’s a big question and I just threw it at you without warning and you’re probably having trouble processing it and Clark’s a great guy and I can tell you like him but I don’t know how much and I haven’t said anything to him about this—”
“Cat, quit babbling! You do what you want, okay?”
She braked to a stop in front of Lois’ building shut off the car. After several seconds, she turned to Lois and wiped her cheeks dry. “You’re my best friend. I’d be dead several times over if you hadn’t been in my life. Besides, you put up with me even when I babble like a maniac.” She sniffed and wiped her nose. “I – I don’t think I could take it if I hurt you over a guy, any guy, no matter how wonderful he was.”
“Thank you. You’re my best friend too, and I don’t think I could have dealt with all those flashbacks and nightmares if you hadn’t been there to help me through them all. And you’ve saved me more than once.” Lois took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Tell you what, let’s just see what happens. Who knows? Clark may meet Mayson and she’ll throw herself at him and he’ll decide he can’t live without her and make this whole discussion moot.”
“She better not pull a stunt like that,” growled Cat. “If she does, I’ll tell Clark that she’s secretly a lesbian cougar with a dominatrix fetish.”
Lois let out a startled bark, then laughed aloud. Cat joined her after a moment.
“That would teach both of them a lesson,” chuckled Lois. “Hey, you and I need some sleep, and you’d better soak your feet before you go to bed tonight. See you at work tomorrow after lunch.”
“You too. I’ll be the one wearing the orthopedic tennis shoes. And don’t forget to pick up your weapon at Henderson’s office in the morning.”
“You’re kidding, right? Me forget about my weapon? I’d forget my underwear first.”
Cat grinned. “That’s right, give Bill a shock and a thrill all at the same time. Probably kill him right on the spot.”
“At least he’d die in the line of duty.” They shared another chuckle. “Good night, Cat. Get some quality sleep.”
