This is really a transition piece and was surprisingly difficult to write. I'm still not sure I really got it the way I wanted.
Suspicions: 5/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"So, what if he realized you were taking Candy to and from work and decided to put a stop to it? And, if by chance, my mother saw him, he might decide to be sure she couldn't identify him. I realize this is kind of far-fetched, but --"
"It isn't likely that she was the witness," Clark said, reassuringly. "Even if she was, how would he know who she is? But I'll check, just to be sure."
"Do that," Lois said. "And call me back."
"I will. And after that, I'm going to have Superman pay a visit to Myrtle's Florist and Hardware."
"*Hardware*?" Lois said.
"I'm told it's new," Clark said. "I'll call you back."
**********
And now, Part 5:
Sam Lane opened the door to the Lane penthouse.
The place was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock that had belonged to Ellen's parents, in the dining room. Ellen obviously wasn't home, but he hadn't really expected her to be.
He closed the door behind him, turned the bolt, and headed for the master bedroom.
Sure enough, on the nightstand by Ellen's side of the bed, her cellular phone sat firmly in its charger. Evidently, his wife had forgotten to take it with her when she had gone on her errand, whatever it had been. He glanced at his watch. Surely, any ordinary appointment would have been long since over. It was past two in the afternoon. What was Ellen up to?
Sam had begun to form a suspicion about his wife's purpose for the day. Ever since that night at the Kent house, she hadn't said a word to him about her son-in-law's supposed infidelities, and that should have alerted him to trouble, he thought. Nothing he nor anyone else had said to her had managed to convince her of Clark's innocence, and he should have known that nothing would, until she had proven it or disproven it to her own satisfaction. It was one aspect of her personality that was identical to that of her eldest daughter.
He stood still for a moment, thinking. If she was doing what he thought she was doing, she'd want to gather "evidence". Where was her camera? Normally, she kept it in the top drawer of her dresser, within quick reach for holiday pictures of the grandchildren. He opened the drawer and looked. The camera was gone.
Sam closed his eyes. He'd hoped he was wrong, but evidently, he'd read his wife correctly.
So, where would she be?
Chances were that she was somewhere near the Daily Planet, keeping a watch on Clark -- or, at least trying to.
He couldn't help smiling at the thought. She was going to have a very difficult time trying to keep track of Superman if he didn't want her to, but any unexplained absences would doubtless only serve to reinforce her conviction that he was cheating on Lois. He supposed it was to be expected. Lois didn't only get her hard-headedness from him. The trouble was, it was bound to backfire and cause more trouble in the long run. Lois was going to be furious if she found out what Ellen was doing.
But it wasn't necessarily true, he thought, hopefully. There was still a good chance that he was wrong.
Sam heaved a resigned sigh. Try as he might, he couldn't quite convince himself of that. He knew Ellen too well. Well, he supposed he should try to find her and at least make an attempt to convince her to give up the mission. 'Right! Fat chance of that, Lane,' he thought. Still, if it would prevent a battle royal between Ellen and Lois, it was a worthy, if probably doomed, cause.
With a brisk step, he left the bedroom. The sooner he got this over with, the better. Besides, there was still a slim chance that he was misjudging her. Uh huh. Right. Sure he was.
He stepped into the short hallway, closing and locking the door behind him. There was a security guard by the elevator that gave access to their rooftop apartment, whom Sam had never seen before, but that wasn't unusual. He certainly didn't know all the employees of the building by sight. The guard nodded to him as he jammed a thumb on the call button.
"Good day, Dr. Lane," the man said.
"That's a matter of opinion," Sam said. "As a matter of fact, it's turning into a disaster."
**********
"Sure, I'll check, Mr. Kent." Phil Thomet was a man probably in his early sixties with greying hair and blue eyes that had the crinkles of laugh lines at their corners. He ruffled through several sheets of paper on his desk and selected one. "Here you go. The witness was an Ellen Lane. She said the guy tried to attack her when he realized she had seen him, but the elevator doors closed and he couldn't get to her."
Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. "It figures."
"Is there a problem?" Thomet asked.
"No, not really. Ellen Lane is my mother-in-law."
"Oh?" The man raised his brows. "Blond woman, about five-two, maybe a hundred and twenty pounds?"
"That's her," Clark said. "Did she give a description of the vandal?"
Thomet checked the paper. "Sort of. She thought he was between five-eight and six feet, anywhere from thirty to forty-five, with brown hair and an angular face. No guess as to the eye color."
"That could pretty much describe half the men in Metropolis," Clark said. "Oh, well, at least he hasn't any way of identifying her."
"You're worried about what happened?"
"A little," Clark said. "The Lane women tend to attract trouble."
"Oh." The man laughed. "I guess you'd know more about that than I would, wouldn't you? Still, Ms. Lane is one great reporter."
"She is, at that," Clark agreed. "Thanks for the information."
"Don't mention it," Thomet said. He glanced at the paper. "Oh, yeah, one last thing. Mrs. Lane reported her keys lost. She's pretty sure she dropped them somewhere in the Daily Planet Building. She says it's a metal ring with five keys and a gold tag with her name and phone number on it."
Clark had the impulse to hit his head against a wall, but restrained himself and took a polite leave of Phil Thomet. Chances were extremely good, after all, that the keys were lying somewhere in the building, undiscovered, and, given time, would be found and quite possibly turned in. But if the vandal, whoever he was, had somehow managed to acquire them, and if by some wild chance he *was* Candy's stalker ...
Come on, Clark, he told himself, as he made his way back toward the stairwell, what are the chances that Lois's scenario is right? Not very high, at all, really. On the other hand, she had a point. Their luck just seemed to run to the highly unlikely. It was as if the three Fates had it in for them.
Well, that meant he had to find Ellen fast, both for Lois's peace of mind and his own. Lois's mother might be exasperating at times, but he certainly didn't want anything to happen to her. On the thought, he stepped through the door to the stairs.
Two maintenance men were working on an open panel filled with bunches of wires of varying colors. Clark walked sedately up the stairs, resisting the impulse to take off at super speed as soon as he was out of their sight. The way this place echoed, they couldn't miss hearing the characteristic "whoosh" of Superman in action. He needed to get out of here and do his "hover-around-the-building-and-x-ray thing", as Lois called it. If he turned up Ellen's keys that way, then he could stop worrying. If they didn't show up, he'd start hunting for Ellen in earnest. And, of course, he had to call Lois.
He was just stepping out of the stairwell on the sixth floor, when he heard the radio broadcast.
**********
The little outdoor café was a good place from which to conduct her surveillance, Ellen thought. It gave her a clear view of the Daily Planet's main entrance, and a bit of the side of the building as well, so Clark couldn't slip out the side door without her seeing him. Periodically, when someone emerged wearing a suit similar to the one she had seen him wearing this morning, she would check through the telescopic viewfinder of her camera, but so far, she had seen no sign of him. In a bit, she thought, she would call the newsroom to see if he was where he ought to be. How he reported on so many breaking stories if he stayed in the office all day, she wasn't sure, but perhaps he did a lot of his business by phone.
The distant echo of a sonic boom barely caught her attention. The residents of Metropolis heard that sound several times a day. It simply meant that Superman was headed somewhere, fast. Since the radio on a nearby table was reporting a severe mudslide in Argentina, due to the heavy rains in the area, and the fact that a town was directly in the path of the oncoming disaster, it wasn't a surprise.
The waiter had been eyeing her for the better part of an hour. Ellen signaled him and asked for her third refill. While the coffee was cooling to drinkable temperature, she made a trip to the phone on the building next to the café and dialed the number for Clark's desk. It was inconvenient that she had forgotten her cellular phone this morning. Because of the oversight, she had to rely on pay phones to make her calls.
The phone rang several times before someone picked it up. "Clark Kent's desk," a woman's voice said.
"Is Mr. Kent there?" she asked.
"No, he's out of the office," the voice replied. "Can I take a message?"
"Do you know when he'll be back?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, I don't," the voice said. "If you'd like to leave a number, he'll call you back when he gets in."
Ellen put down the phone. Clark was gone again. Maybe she should check the back of the building for other exits, although why he would be sneaking out when he didn't know she was watching, she didn't know. Maybe he had simply gone somewhere in the building. She supposed she could call his cell phone, but he could easily lie about his location.
Slowly, she returned to the table and her cooling cup of coffee. Maybe he would return to the newsroom before long. The last time, he had walked in via the front entrance, but if he didn't appear soon, she would call again -- and then, maybe she should call that Candy woman; no, she'd seen her leave with that other man, and she hadn't returned yet.
Half an hour later, Clark still wasn't answering his phone. Another voice on the line informed her that he had called in and notified Mr. White that he was on a breaking story.
Ellen set down the receiver, looking back at the Daily Planet. A taxi drew up as she did so and two persons, a man and a woman got out. The woman was wearing the same kind of coat that Candy had been when she left the Planet, several hours before, and a check through her camera's viewfinder informed Ellen that it was indeed her. So, Clark was either out on a genuine story, or there was another woman, somewhere.
Probably, he was on a story, she thought. You didn't get the kind of reputation he had as a reporter by slacking off on the job.
This wasn't getting her anywhere, she decided. Trying to keep track of Clark when he obviously had ways of getting out of the building without her seeing him, was an exercise in futility. Maybe she could learn more by talking to this Candy woman, and some of the other people in the newsroom. Perry White might growl about it, but he wouldn't make a real fuss. She dithered for a few moments over the idea, sipping the fifth cup of now-lukewarm coffee, and made a decision. Setting several bills on the table to cover the cost of the coffee and a small tip, she picked up her camera and headed toward the Daily Planet.
**********
Candy Valenzuela was sitting at her desk when Ellen walked into the newsroom.
She stood by the elevators for a good half-minute, watching Candy, before she moved toward the steps. The society columnist was flipping through the pages of a notebook, frowning. As Ellen started down the steps and across the newsroom floor, the woman's desk phone rang, and she jumped. It rang again, and she answered it, with a cautious air. "Candy Valenzuela." Then: "Who *are* you? What do you want from me?"
Ellen frowned. What kind of conversation was that?
Several others had noticed Candy's outburst as well, including Perry White, who turned and approached her desk.
Candy jerked the receiver away from her ear, then she appeared to consciously take control of herself and set it almost gently into its cradle. She covered her face with both hands.
Perry put a hand on her shoulder. "Easy there, honey. That was ... him?"
She nodded, slowly removed her hands from her face and laid them palm down on the desktop.
"What did he want?"
She shook her head. "I don't know."
"Did he say anything?"
"Just ... the same stuff as his notes." She shuddered slightly. "Perry, what am I going to do?"
"You hang in there," her boss said. "Keep bein' as careful as you can. Clark and Jim are gonna work this out -- you'll see. Clark said Lois is helpin', too -- she's doing research at home. You got the best investigative team in the Planet on your side. Clark is driving you home tonight, isn't he?"
She shook her head. "Somebody slashed his tires. He's going to walk me to the bus stop. I should be okay from there."
"I'm not sure I like that," Perry said. "Not after what happened last night. I'm gonna ask Clark if he'll take the bus with you. He won't mind."
"He's done so much for me already," Candy said. "I don't want to impose on him any more. I'll be fine, Perry. Whoever this is, he can't do anything out in public."
"Don't count on it," Perry said. "This character is a nut. You don't know what he'll do. As soon as Clark gets back, I'm gonna talk to him."
Ellen couldn't believe her ears. It sounded as if Clark had been trying to help his co-worker with a serious problem. Was it possible? The image she'd built up of her daughter's husband had been of a man who was callously cheating on his wife, risking the welfare of his family for a cheap fling. This didn't fit the picture at all.
Perry glanced up as she took an involuntary step forward. "Ellen? What are you doin' here? Lois is okay, isn't she?"
"She's fine," Ellen said. "I was looking for Clark. Do you know where he is?"
"Yeah," Perry said. He hesitated for an instant. "He went with Superman to report on a big mudslide that was threatening a small town in Argentina. He said it looked like Superman would have it cleaned up pretty fast. Apparently, he got there in time to keep it from doing any serious damage. Why?"
Ellen blinked at him for a moment in near-disbelief. "Does he do this kind of thing often?"
"Sure," Perry said, almost off-handedly. "All the time. Clark writes about places and situations where people need help from the outside, and tries to draw attention to them. You've read his stuff, haven't you?"
Actually, she hadn't -- at least, not in the last few years, ever since she had begun to suspect that he was cheating on Lois. "Not really, no. I didn't realize ..."
"Well, he does," Perry said. He cleared his throat. "Candy, I want you to stay in the office until Clark gets back. I don't want somethin' to happen to the best society columnist I've had on my staff since Cat worked here, you hear me? If you need to do an interview, do it by phone, until we get this thing sorted out. That's an order."
"All right, Perry." Candy sounded subdued. "I should have this interview written up in a few minutes." She gave a tiny smile. "It's pretty short, but it sure took enough time to corner Overton long enough to get a statement from him. He was dodging me."
"I'm not surprised." The editor gave a snort of amusement. "You'd think these politicians would realize the public eye is on 'em and be a little more careful. I guess it's just as well for us that they aren't, though." He glanced at his watch. "Better move. The deadline for the morning edition is in half an hour."
Ellen hesitated. "Ms. ... Valenzuela? When you're done, I'd like to talk to you. About Clark. I wanted to ask you a few things."
The society columnist looked surprised. "Sure. Just give me ten minutes."
True to her words, she finished in just under the promised time. Ellen waited while she transmitted the story to Perry's computer and stood up. "Would you like to talk in private?"
"Please," Ellen said.
"I think the conference room is free," Candy said. "This way."
When the door closed behind them, Candy took a seat and indicated a chair. "Please sit down."
Ellen did so. Now that the moment had arrived, she wasn't sure what to say. Candy waited without saying anything for nearly a minute before she spoke. "Is there a problem, Mrs. Lane?"
Ellen nodded. "I need you to promise that you won't mention this to Clark."
"All right," Candy said.
Silence again. Candy waited.
"Ms. Valenzuela, I think I had the wrong impression of something," Ellen said, finally. "When I saw Clark with you ..."
"Oh," Candy said.
"I need to apologize to you for that," Ellen managed.
"No problem." Candy looked more amused than anything else. "I guess I have that reputation."
"No ..." She gathered her courage. "I've wondered for some time if Clark ... I mean, has he ever ... with other women?"
"*Clark*?" Candy looked amazed. "Mr. Straight-arrow? You're joking, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you implying that *Clark* might be playing around on *Lois*?" Candy shook her head. "You've got the wrong idea about Clark, Mrs. Lane. I'm not saying that there haven't been a lot of women who have made passes at him, because there have, but he's never, to my knowledge, even looked at them."
"Oh," Ellen said. She blinked at Candy, trying to rearrange the assumptions about Clark in her mind. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," Candy said. "If anybody would hear about something like that, it would be me. The office intern we had the first year I was here had a terrific crush on him. She'd waylay him in the copy room and anywhere else she could manage. He was always just as nice as he could be to her, but she got the message pretty quick that he wasn't interested. He never said a word about it, by the way. I guess he didn't want to embarrass her. I got the story from a couple of co-workers."
"Oh. But the way he runs off -- and those lame excuses that he gives --"
"I know. I've heard some of them," Candy said. "All I know is that he usually comes back with a Superman exclusive, afterwards. I suspect he has some kind of arrangement with Superman. I wish I knew what it was." She shrugged. "In any case, it's good for the paper and I'm not going to throw a wrench into the works. But I can pretty much say with certainty that it doesn't have anything to do with a woman. Lois is the only woman he thinks about that way, and every other female in the office knows it. That was why I asked him to drive me home, last night. I knew I could trust him."
"Oh." Ellen felt almost dizzy with relief. Of course, it wasn't proof by a long shot, but as Clark had said to her yesterday afternoon, proving a negative was virtually impossible. Still, the information that she had turned up was a positive sign. Maybe she had been wrong, after all, if Clark's co-worker called him a straight-arrow.
As Sam had pointed out, and she'd had to admit, she'd never seen Clark show any of that kind of interest in any other woman but Lois, and now Candy had independently stated the same thing. Somehow, the testimony from an outside observer was far more convincing than either Sam's or Lois's. The office grapevine usually knew if something of that sort was going on, after all. If anything, it was far more vicious than ordinary gossip. That was how she'd found out about Sam and the receptionist, years ago. She intended to keep on watching him for a while, but maybe there really was another explanation for his strange behavior. She really hoped so.
She stood up. "Thank you," she said. "I needed to hear that from someone besides ..." She broke off. "Anyway, thank you."
"You're welcome," Candy said.
**********
(tbc)
