Clark Kent! You put that phone book away this instant!

Catherine took another sip of her coffee and asked, dreading the response, “Wh …what was the woman’s name?”

“La … Lara Ah! Lana Lang! Just a moment, there might be a picture in my bag.”

While Arthur went into his office, Catherine strived not to squirm in her chair. This bit of information that had fallen into her lap was bad, very bad indeed.

“Yes, Anna took this group picture; Daae had copies made for all the guests as a gift commemorating the evening.”

Catherine studied the photo, her green eyes gleamed catlike when she spotted a very chic Lana among the elegantly turned out guests. Gone was the Midwestern small town girl. Now she had transformed into a sophisticated woman. But the American city dweller had departed as well; she wore a blue gown and her blonde hair was pinned into a very pleasing-to-the-eye, sleek chignon – very European. Clark’s so-called girlfriend smiled prettily at Daae, but that was not what caught her attention; the two were holding hands like lovers.

<Oh no! Should I tell Clark?> She thought in a panic.

“Do you know the young lady?”

“Yes,” Catherine responded, her tone corrosive. “But she is no lady.”

<Clark Kent is a standup guy; he doesn’t deserve someone stabbing him in the back like this. He deserves someone better, someone like …>

Abruptly, a familiar voice broke through her dismal thoughts.

“Kansas! Stop putting your grubby fingerprints on my monitor!”

<That man should be with Lois, not that blonde Benedict Arnold! She was obliviously playing Daae along, although by the man’s reputation, Catherine was positive no one played Gregory Daae.>

Catherine’s thoughts were so distracted she accidently typed the word ‘tramp’ instead of ‘stamp’.

[quote=Morgana]
Lois’ eyes widened in surprise that was Aunt Rita’s maiden name. What was it doing on Eduardo’s list of contacts? The conversation they had had when she first presented the Daae investigation to Constance came to mind. Maybe now was the time to have a long overdue talk with her Aunt. She looked over at Clark’s desk and from the stormy expression on his face either one of his contacts was giving him a hard time or Lana was making demands. She shook her head and wondered how anyone could exert such a strong influence thousands of miles away?

Deciding it would be best not to disturb him, she took off for Café Americana hoping to receive a few answers.

“It’s a simple thing to ask Lana. I miss you. Why can’t I ‘come over’ for a few hours just to catch up with each other?”

Over thousands of miles of ocean and land, Clark could clearly hear the annoyance – and possibly a little strain in Lana’s voice. “My work is pretty intense; it’s reached the crucial stages….”

“That sounds like a line from a bad spy novel. Come on, what’s really wrong? Every since your Dad gave you this assignment you’ve been ducking me.”

“Really?” Lana fired back. “Weren’t you the one who insisted we pursue our careers before we got engaged? Now you’re acting like a caveman demanding I drop everything and spend time with you! My job is important and notwithstanding your ‘advantages’ that job requires one hundred percent concentration. Remember how many times a ‘big story’ came before a date?” She took a breath and Clark could hear her heart pounding excitedly over the phone. “We won’t even go into the ‘other side’ of yourself. I may be in Europe, but the Swiss edition of the Daily Planet tells about how ‘safe’ it is to live in Metropolis. I wonder what or who the Haze might be?”

Perhaps it was time to be mature and take steps in a different direction. They had been seeing each other for a long time. After all, his new apartment did have plenty of space for her things in the loft.

He pulled out a phone book to look up the number for Mazik’s Jeweler’s

[quote=Morgana]

“Is this … you?” She asked without preamble.

Rita studied the name, date and location. Her countenance flushed slightly than speaking softly, she said, “My, my, the chickens have come home to roost.”