PREVIOUSLY...
His foot crunched on something at the same moment that Lois realized the problem.
“Damn it!” she exclaimed, quickly bending down to grab Shadow’s collar so that he wouldn’t go any further. “Sit,” she commanded and Shadow quickly did as ordered, allowing her to release him.
“What?” Clark asked.
“Someone broke the window leading out to the fire escape. Are there...” Her voice trailed off as she tapped his ear. In the corner of her eye, she saw Shadow begin trotting away from them on his way to their bedroom. Good. He should be safe from the glass on the floor in there.
“No. Whatever they did, it wasn’t done to plant surveillance devices.”AND NOW...
“Then what...” She began looking around her.
Shadow was suddenly back, holding some piece of black material in his mouth.
“What is it, boy?” she asked, reaching out a hand to him. He released the material and she could almost swear she could see sympathy in his eyes. Confused, she examined the flimsy piece of cloth. “Oh god,” she groaned.
“What?”
“They’ve been rifling through my underwear drawer,” Lois said as she stared in horror at the lingerie she’d worn during her first night with Clark.
“For what reason?” Clark asked, confused.
“Probably wanting to write a story about what Lois Lane wears at night for Superman.”
“Oh, Lois. I’m so sorry.”
She held up a hand, not wanting his sympathy. In fact, she didn’t want to think about this at all. “I’m going to call the police. Maybe we’ll get lucky and get finger prints. Then, I’ll call Jimmy,” Lois said, pushing the thoughts of some stranger’s hands pawing at her unmentionables to the back of her mind. “Maybe he can go to the hospital and collect the tape for us.”
“Why do you suppose they broke the window this time? Why not just get in the way they did before?” Clark asked.
“I assume that the other building’s residents have become much more vigilant about not buzzing strangers into the building.”
Suddenly, she had a horrible thought. What if they’d found the suits? She rushed quickly into the bedroom and threw open the door to the closet, only breathing again when she realized that the floor in the closet was undisturbed.
Turning back around, she slowly took in the room. Her underwear drawer had a pair of black panties half sticking out and the drawer to her bed stand was partially open. Damn. That was where she kept her birth control pills. So they had that information, too. But surely such information was too personal... Or, well, not likely given what she’d read today in Love Fortress Magazine.
In point of fact, it appeared they had rifled through everything. She sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.
* * * * * * * * *
Nunk pushed open the door to the Sheriff’s Office and almost instantly fell back when a wall of sound hit him. Collecting himself, he stepped into the crowded station. It had taken them quite some time to get here. Apparently, there was no taxi service in Smallville and the Sheriff’s Office was located some distance outside of town so that it could service the whole county. They’d tried hitching a ride, but regardless of the number of old trucks that drove past them, no one stopped.
Once inside, Nunk took a look around. Mike McKee of Channel Six was up near the front. Sandra Bergquest from the Tattle-Tail Weekly was over on the other side. He could see Stan Webb and Marcel Dresler and... was that Sean Koch?
In fact, the entire room was a who’s who of tabloid news. All of them shouting over each other to the petite woman standing on the other side of the counter - the only barrier separating the angry mob from the ticked-off woman who also happened to be the only person in the room with a gun.
“What’s going on?” Nunk asked as he and Lamont crowded into the already jammed room.
A man who looked vaguely familiar looked over at him. “Slashed tires.”
“All of them... us?” Nunk asked in disbelief.
The man nodded.
“What are you planning to do about it?” McKee demanded of Sheriff Harris.
“I’ve got my deputies out, trying to track down the culprits, but so far we have no idea who is behind this. Everyone is claiming that they didn’t see any tires get slashed.”
“Of course they are. They’re all behind this!” McKee exclaimed.
“Haven’t you people ever heard of freedom of the press?” Bergquest yelled. “What are you going to do about that?”
“What do you want me to do?” Rachel asked incredulously. “I can’t make Maisie keep her restaurant open if she has to do inventory or insist that the gas station take credit or even keep the motel open if it has bugs. And if you park somewhere that is only for abandoned vehicles, you can’t rightly complain if you get your car shot up.”
“But what about the tires?” McKee said. “You’re the law. You’re required to do something about that!”
“And I’m trying, but it’s going to take some time.”
Suddenly the door opened and an older couple, obviously farmers by their casual attire, entered the lobby. They looked vaguely familiar to Nunk. He shrugged. He’d probably seen them at some point during the day. Dismissing them from his mind, he turned his attention back to the Sheriff.
“Excuse me,” the farmer said as he and his wife pushed their way through the crowd until they managed to get to the front. “Rachel, may I?” he asked.
“Be my guest,” Rachel said, surrendering the floor to the newcomer.
The man turned towards the crowd. “I have a statement to make,” the man said. He gave the woman with him an amused grin before saying, “I’ve always wanted to say that.” Then he turned his attention back to the crowd. “For those of you who may not know, my name is Jonathan Kent and this is my wife, Martha.”
The crowd erupted in questions. Cameras began snapping.
“Now, how am I supposed to make a statement with all of you yelling at me?”
“Didn’t your parents teach you not to interrupt people,” Martha added. Her gaze turned to her husband. “We’re going to have to have a talk to our boy about this if this is how he acts when he’s covering a story.”
The crowd quieted and a few even chuckled, captivated by the older couple with the twinkle in their eyes.
“Now, isn’t this much nicer?” Martha said.
Most of those who hadn’t chuckled before did now.
“Okay, now that I have your attention, let me get to the point of our trip here today,” Jonathan said. “First, although we’re very proud of our boy, and happen to think he’s pretty super...”
More chuckles followed this comment.
“...for any of you who actually think he’s Superman, we’d like to offer you a load of cow manure at a thousand dollars an ounce. Now...Unless you want to take us up on our offer...” When no one responded, Jonathan continued. “We’ve heard about the problems you all have had today so we talked to some of our neighbors and took up a donation to help you out.”
People looked around at each other in confusion.
“We suspect you’re all feeling a little hungry,” Jonathan said. “And are wondering where you’re going to stay tonight. So... We made arrangements to get a bus that will take you back to Wichita.”
The crowd noise rose again. Jonathan held up a hand until they calmed down again.
“Now... Maisie has made up a lunch for you which will be served on the bus and we have called a motel in Wichita that said they have room for as many of you who want to take us up on our offer.”
“What are you trying to do?” Nunk yelled. “Run us out of town on a rail?”
“Oh, no, dear,” Martha said. “The bus is much more comfortable. Besides, no one is saying you have to go. But without food or accommodation or means to travel... Well, we just didn’t want you to find yourselves stranded here in the hicks.”
“And Maisie said she has done up a batch of her famous raison tarts... which won first prize at Corn Festival this past year,” Jonathan added. He looked at his wife. “Do you think if I went along, Maisie would give me one of those tarts? I’m sure these guys wouldn’t mind.”
“Certainly not,” Martha said. “You have to watch your cholesterol, honey. Remember what the doctor told you.”
“You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He turned back to the crowd. “The bus will stop by here in about a half hour for anyone who is interested. It will drop you right off at the motel where I’ve been told they would be happy to assist you in filing your stories. Hopefully, it will help with your editors to be able to say that you at least met us.” He turned to Rachel. “Thanks, Rachel,” he said.
“No problem, Jonathan,” Rachel said.
Martha and Jonathan both ignored the questions that were thrown at them as they returned to their truck, hand in hand. Cameras again snapped. Unfortunately for the paparazzi assembled at the Sheriff’s Office, they were unable to follow further than the truck - none of them now having working vehicles.
Martha and Jonathan watched from the comfort of their truck while a school bus packed with reporters passed them by on its way out of town some time later. Once the bus was gone, they started their truck and drove back to the Sheriff’s Office, to find the building much quieter.
“They leave?” Martha asked Rachel as they walked across the empty lobby.
“They left. But I think most of them are planning just to rent another car in Wichita and drive back.”
Martha and Jonathan shared a look. “We thought of that,” Jonathan said. “That’s why all the rental agencies within a hundred miles of Wichita have been informed about how many rental cars were shot up in Smallville when those idiots parked in front of signs that told them that vehicles parked there would be deemed abandoned. Unless they want to see more of their vehicles damaged, and likely be out of business until they can get their cars repaired, they might want to think twice before renting to any more reporters for the next little while. As for their tires... You can stop your investigation.”
“Why? Are you here to confess?”
“Not exactly. It’s just... there were no slashed tires in Smallville today.”
“What?”
“It’s a wonder no one bothered to check to make sure their tires really were slashed.”
“Their tires weren’t slashed?” Rachel asked incredulously.
“Of course, not, dear,” Martha said. “They just had the air let out of them. If anyone had actually checked, the whole gig would have been up. But the rental agencies are still going to have a heck of a time getting their cars back. So we made a deal with them. A bunch of folks here have volunteered to return cars for any agency that doesn’t rent any more cars to reporters.”
“They’re planning to make a bit of a holiday out of the trip,” Jonathan added. “They’ve made arrangements to borrow the school bus to get back to Smallville afterwards.”
Rachel laughed. “Are you telling me that crowd won’t be able to rent vehicles anywhere near Wichita?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Jonathan said. “It might not keep them away permanently - but hopefully by the time they work out a solution, this will all be over. Anyway, we wanted to tell you that Hank Irig and his family will be staying at our place for the next few days because we’re on our way to Metropolis tomorrow morning.”
* * * * * * * * *
When Lois had reached the police, she spoke to Zymak. He might have given them a hard time earlier tonight, but she knew that he would take their complaint of a break-in seriously - given everything else that had happened recently. He had promised to send over a couple of officers who would conduct a serious investigation.
So now... the police had left, Lois had finished cleaning up the broken glass and Clark had put plastic up over the broken window to keep the wind out. He was currently struggling to get a blanket tacked up over the plastic so that people couldn’t look in. Not the ideal set up since they could just push down the barricade, but it was the best they could do until Mr. Tracewski could repair it, which he had promised to see to tomorrow. Since the damage was less than her insurance deductible, they would have to pay for it, of course, but Mr. Tracewski would make sure it was done as cheaply as possible without compromising quality.
Lois suspected the fingerprints the police had found were probably useless. The people who had broken in had undoubtedly worn gloves. But they had found a trace amount of what appeared to be blood on a shard of glass. The cops had warned her not to get her hopes up, however, since they weren’t sure there was even enough for a proper DNA analysis.
“Here. Let me,” Lois said, rushing to raise one side of the blanket for Clark.
“Thanks,” he said, quickly tacking up the side of the blanket he was holding and moving over to her side.
He had just secured the blanket when he heard a commotion coming from outside. “Something’s happening,” he said.
“Great! Now what?” Lois stepped up to the window.
“No. It’s at the front of the building.”
Lois practically tripped over Shadow in her rush to get to the window. She couldn’t hear whatever had alerted Clark, but after the day they’d had, she wasn’t taking anything for granted. She looked out the window.
The mass of reporters outside had honed in on something, but she couldn’t quite get a view of it - so surrounded was it by people pushing in. The lights from the various cameras that had come on was almost unbearable - making Lois feel sorry for the people living on the first floor. Surely no thickness of curtains would keep that amount of light from leaking in through the windows. Even if the noise from the reporters camped outside didn’t bother them, the lights surely would.
Hearing Clark slowly coming up behind her, she glanced back over her shoulder.
“I can’t tell what’s going on, but those reporters down there look like a school of sharks going in for the kill.
“It’s Jimmy,” Clark said. “They keep asking questions. He keeps telling them he has no comment.”
Lois glanced back out the window. “He’s not making much progress,” she said softly. She turned back to Clark. “Do you think this is what our friends have been enduring for the past few days?”
“Probably. I guess we’re just been so caught up in our own problems that we haven’t noticed.”
Lois bit her lip and looked back out the window, watching in sympathy as Jimmy made slow progress to the front door of the building. If this kept up much longer, they probably wouldn’t have any friends left. She’d even heard rumblings from the other occupants of the building when she and Clark had been in the public areas. How long would her landlord tolerate this before he demanded that they move out?
She turned away from the window when Jimmy finally made it to the front door of the building and, like a harried dog, scooted inside when Clark, standing right next to the security intercom, buzzed him in the moment he announced himself.
“I suppose we could always move to the Arctic or something,” Lois said.
“That would be some commute.”
Lois gave a tired smile. “I’d need a lift.”
“Probably could be arranged. Well, unless there’s a snow storm or something.”
Lois’ eyebrows crinkled together in confusion.
“Well, how could we manage that commute in a snow storm without having people suspect I’m Superman?”
Lois giggled, amazed by the way he could lift her out of her depressing thoughts.
Just then a knock came at the door.
* * * * * * * * *
“You’re a life saver, Jimmy,” Lois said as she dug into one of the dinners that Jimmy had brought with him.
“Hey, no problem,” Jimmy responded, digging into his own dinner. “C.K. paid so it’s a great deal for me, too.” As he spoke, he fed a scrap to Shadow.
“Jimmy, did you just feed table scraps to Shadow?” Clark asked.
Jimmy shared a guilty look with Lois who had been doing the same thing the entire time she’d been eating.
“Uhh... no?” Jimmy’s tone of voice sounded more like a question than a denial.
Clark laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Jimmy. If you’re not feeding him, Lois is.”
“Who me?” Lois asked, managing to sound much more innocent than Jimmy had.
Both Clark and Jimmy laughed this time, even as Shadow continued enjoying his meal.
“Well, I want to say thank you anyway,” Lois said, returning to her previous thought. “Not only for this, but for getting that tape for me. Did you have any problems breaking into the storage room?”
“No. I knew reform school would come in handy some day.”
“And did you have any problems putting a new tape in the machine?”
Jimmy smiled. “Don’t worry. When I left, it was recording Church’s snoring.”
“Great,” Lois said resignedly. “More snoring. Why can’t they invent a recorder that edits out snoring?”
“Jimmy, Lois saw you coming into the building,” Clark said, changing the subject. “Have the paparazzi been giving you much of a problem?”
“Well, I don’t have them setting up camp outside my building or anything like that,” Jimmy said. “But I think everyone who knows you is probably being bugged a bit right now.”
“I’m sorry, Jim.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Jimmy said. He shrugged. “This will all end when they figure out that you aren’t really Superman, anyway.”
Lois placed her fork down on her plate, no longer feeling particularly hungry.
* * * * * * * * *
As soon as Jimmy left, Lois stuck the tape in her machine. As usual, there was a lot of garbage on the tape so while they let it play, Lois and Clark did up the dishes and slipped into some comfortable clothes. Lois chose a long silky nightie and then picked a blanket off the foot of the bed before returning to the living room. Shaking out the blanket, she sat down on the couch and pulled it into her lap. Shadow jumped up onto the couch next to her, laying his head in her lap. Her hand instantly found itself running gently through dog fur and pulling on the tips of his ears.
Shadow sighed in contentment, his eyelids drooping as he cuddled closer.
On the tape, Mindy Black was using a little girl voice to tell Bill Church how handsome he looked today.
Unfortunately for Shadow’s romantic intentions, Clark wasn’t far behind. He returned from the bedroom in a pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt. Pushing Shadow off his spot, Clark took a seat next to Lois, his arm resting on the back of the couch behind her.
Lois pulled her feet up under her and rested her head against Clark’s strong shoulder as she relaxed into his embrace.
She hardly noticed it at first. Clark’s free hand began tracing an abstract pattern on her thigh as the voices on the tape droned on about heart rates and bed pans. However, her attention was captured when his hand slid under the hem of her nightie, beginning a slow path up the full length of her leg, bringing the material of her nightie with it.
Lois licked her lips as the hand continued its lazy movements up her leg, almost as if its movement was random.
She shifted positions, causing his hand to slip off her leg. His forehead furrowed slightly, but she ignored him as she pulled her legs out from under herself so that she could flip them up over his lap. In her peripheral vision, she could see him smile, realizing that he now had much better access to her legs.
Her new position, however, had an added advantage of allowing her to sneak her hand under the edge of his t-shirt so that she could explore the hard muscles she found there.
Letting out a small groan, he turned his head. She tilted her head slightly, allowing him to find her lips. After a series of slow, easy kisses, the need to get closer seemed to hit them both at the same moment. As Clark reached for Lois, she rose up on the couch, turning so that she could straddle his lap. He groaned and pulled her closer, his hands running down over the curves of her back until...
Suddenly, Clark jerked back.
“Huh?” Lois asked confused at the sudden loss of contact.
He didn’t answer, instead he quickly moved her off him so that he could rise to her feet. He was off the couch quickly, feeling his way around the couch and over to the kitchen table.
He picked up the tape recorder and flicked it off.
It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t heard anything happening on the tape since... Well, she wasn’t entirely certain what she’d last heard.
“What?” she asked, watching as he felt his way back to the couch and resumed his seat, tape recorder still in hand.
He rewound it for a few seconds before turning it on again. Something about taking Bill Church Senior down for a cardiogram.
“Is this what...”
“Just a sec.”
She fell silent, immediately realizing why he’d interrupted them when she heard Bill Church Junior’s voice on the tape.
“Hi, Dad. How you doing today?”
“Hmph. Did you get the package?”
“He’s safely tucked away until we’re ready to complete the transfer.”
“Are you sure he’s secure.”
“Since he has no idea what’s coming, he’s in no rush to leave the women we’ve provided for him. He’s been in prison for months now so... Of course, should he try to leave, he will find that’s impossible.”
“What about the doctor? Have you spoken to him?”
“I did. Dr. Grant is the best transplant surgeon in Metropolis. At first, he was a little... reluctant, but eventually we persuaded him that it would be in his own best interests to cooperate.”
“Are you sure ‘persuading’ him is the best thing for my health?”
“I’ll be there the whole time to make sure he doesn’t try anything. He knows that your death wouldn’t be very good for his health.”
“So when will this happen?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Why can’t he do it today?”
“Apparently, you have to fast before surgery. But don’t worry, Dr. Grant’s given instructions to the medical staff and booked the operating room. Barring complications, he figures he’ll be able to take care of you around ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Hmph.”
“Anyway, Dad, I’m not going to be able to visit today. Business has to be tended to. But you know how that goes.”Lois and Clark listened as the two men said their goodbyes and the door to the room closed following Junior’s departure.
“We have to contact Henderson,” Lois said immediately.
* * * * * * * * *
“Now... where were we?” Clark asked when they hung up the phone following their call to Henderson. They had told him what they knew... and what they suspected, that Baby Rage was probably still alive, but wouldn’t be by ten a.m. tomorrow and, they speculated, that he might be being held in CostMart. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get over there to check things out.
Henderson thanked them for the information and promised to follow up on it, leaving them free to pursue other interests.
A smile found its way onto Lois’ face. “Let me see if I can remember what was happening before you so rudely interrupted us.”
Grabbing Clark’s hand, she led him to the couch before giving him a slight push so that he collapsed back onto it. She climbed into Clark’s lap so that she was facing him. Winding her arms around his neck, she spoke again.
“Now... this seems to ring some bells,” she said, her mouth only a breath away from his.
They were the last coherent words either of them spoke for quite some time.
* * * * * * * * *
Saturday
* * * * * * * * *
The Myth Of Man and Superman:
Ms Drake’s Claim Discredited
Daily Planet
By Eduardo Friez Since allegations earlier this week that Clark Kent was Superman sent the fourth estate into a feeding frenzy, new facts have come to light that cast doubt upon Assistant District Attorney Mayson Drake’s claim.
Ms. Drake’s claim rests primarily on the supposition that Superman and Clark Kent were both blinded at the same time and for that reason both disappeared from Metropolis concurrently.
However, according to Sheriff Rachel Harris of Smallville, Kansas, she met with Clark Kent almost five weeks after Superman’s disappearance and she unequivocally states that there was nothing wrong with his eyesight at that time.
In addition, Dr. Joseph Scott, Smallville’s sole physician, states that he treated Clark Kent shortly after Mr. Kent’s meeting with the sheriff as a result of Mr. Kent having sustained an injury as a result of an accident on his family’s farm that caused him to lose his eyesight.
Yet when Superman appeared earlier this week to help out with the hostage situation at City Hall, he met with both Inspector Bill Henderson and Sergeant Maggie Sawyer who in discussing the rescue of the hostages reviewed blue prints of City Hall with the Man of Steel and both Inspector Henderson and Sergeant Sawyer state that Superman was not blind at that time.
They also state that the reason the lights around City Hall were turned out was not, as some have speculated, to keep people from realizing Superman was blind, but to keep the kidnappers in City Hall from knowing Superman was there before he made his move.
Also, although he was only with the hostages briefly, all of them were contacted and none of them noticed any problems with Superman’s eyesight when he rescued them.
In backing up Ms. Drake’s allegations, The Metropolis Star maintains that they consulted with Dr. Simon Gaul, an expert in facial recognition programming, who compared pictures of both Superman and Clark Kent and confirmed that the facial structures of the two men are the same.
However, when Dr. Simon Gaul was contacted by this reporter, he maintained that he also informed the Metropolis Star that the same could be said for thousands of other men in the city of Metropolis alone.
The final ‘evidence’ provided by The Metropolis Star was an apparent lack of airplane travel during Mr. Kent’s time working overseas and yet Captain Eustace Stiller, who for the past twelve years has been the captain of the ocean freighter, Silver Star, confirmed that Mr. Kent worked his passage on his freighter during a run he made to Europe in the late 1980s and according to Captain Stiller, Kent was no Superman, that in fact, he wasn’t even much of a sailor.
As a result, this reporter can only conclude that Ms. Drake woefully misled the public in making her declaration that Clark Kent was Superman for reasons best known only to her.
Although Ms. Drake declined to be interviewed, a source who knows Ms. Drake claims that her heart was broken when Clark Kent began cohabiting with Lois Lane so speculation that she was acting as a woman scorned does not seem completely unfounded.
* * * * * * * * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
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