Part 10
Lois was feeling a little calmer by the time she and Clark got to the Daily Planet. Inspector Henderson insisted they ride in a patrol car – he didn’t say it out loud, but she suspected he was afraid the killer may have tampered with her jeep.
Henderson had been extremely solicitous as Lois related Mr. Hanson’s attack on her – the second murder attempt in eight hours. She suspected he was getting tired of listening to her - an hour last night covering what had happened at her apartment building and another spate of questions this morning. She knew he had to be tired. Murders were usually solved within forty-eight hours and the team assigned to the case would work round the clock for the first few days. After that, leads would dry up, witnesses and evidence would be harder to find. People would start misremembering things.
“Lois, are you all right?” Perry asked almost before she and Clark got out of the elevator.
“I'm fine,” she lied. There were bruises on her throat and she was wearing a scarf to hide them. The police medic had assured her they would fade in a few days.
“What are you doing here?” Perry demanded.
“This is where I work,” Lois stated very reasonably. “I have a job to do.”
“Your job isn't going to be worth the sweat off an Elvis imitator if you're dead,” Perry responded. “Kent, can't you talk any sense into her?”
“I'm hoarse from trying,” Clark told him. “So is Inspector Henderson. He threatened to put her in protective custody.”
“Why didn’t he?” Perry asked Clark.
Lois glowered at him. “Look, this killer can apparently find me anywhere, and can look like anyone. It’s probably safer around a lot of people I know,” she said, settling in at her desk.
“I don't think you're going to be safe until we find Mister Can Make Himself Up To Look Like Anyone Else,” Clark commented sourly.
Mister Can Make Himself Up To Look Like Anyone Else? Lois felt the pieces fall into place – it fit. It all fit.
“Mr. Make-up,” she murmured to herself. Then she looked around the newsroom, spotting the one person she needed at this moment. “Jimmy!”
The young man trotted over to her desk.
“Try to find everything you can, especially the whereabouts of an... uh...” Suddenly the name escaped her. It was an unusual name – Winn? Dinn? “What was his name…?” Finally, it came to her. “Sebastian Finn.”
“Who?” The question came from Clark, Perry, and Jimmy. All three were staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Sebastian Finn,” Lois repeated. “At the Elimont Commune he was called Mister Make-up. And I saw a photo in Winninger’s office with Winninger, Finn, and Barbara Trevino. They worked together on stage productions. Winninger said Finn could make himself up to look like absolutely anybody.”
“Fine, but why would Finn kill Winninger and what's any of this got to do with Barbara Trevino, aside from the fact they were in the commune together years ago?” Clark asked.
“I don’t know,” Lois admitted. “Winninger called her a ‘femme fatale’. Obviously he knew something we don’t.” She turned to look for Jimmy again. He was at his desk, typing furiously on his keyboard. “Any luck on that notebook?”
Jimmy’s head came up. “Uh, yes. Aside from the parts about his stay with that tribe – Clark’s translation was right on, by the way – there were some chemical formulas. STAR Labs was able to break them down, but they have no clue yet as to what their purpose is.”
“Enhanced male potency?”
The three men were staring at her again.
“That’s what Winninger was going on about, remember,” she reminded them. “Now, Trevino is having a press conference. Maybe she’ll tell us what it means.”
-o-o-o-
“This is very creepy,” Lois complained as she and Clark tried to find a cab. She knew it was her imagination, but everyone seemed to be staring at her. Everyone seemed to be making suspicious movements. The bicycle messenger was riding too close to her, the florist was watching her with beady eyes. And, oddly enough, there were no cabs parked just outside the Daily Planet building as there usually were, their drivers sipping coffee as they waited for fares.
“Taxi!” Clark yelled, spotting a cab coming around the corner.
“Don't you think it's creepy?” Lois said as Clark held the cab door for her. “Finn could be anybody. Anybody you see could be somebody else.”
“Lois, it’s okay,” Clark assured her. “I’m right here.”
Somehow, his presence did make her feel better. She took his arm and held it tightly, this time avoiding the gauze bandage the covered the bullet graze. Luckily for Clark, he seemed to heal fast – the blisters on his hand were almost gone and, when she changed the bandage on his arm earlier, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it had looked the night before.
The cab stopped at the Trade Center. The courtyard had been set up for a press conference. LNN and the other broadcast media had cameras and crews covering the event. Lois spotted Carmen Alvarado with the LNN crew. Linda King with the Star was up front somewhere.
Someone pressed a sheet of paper into Lois’s hand and she glanced at it – it was a brief biography of Barbara Trevino, listing her accomplishments and the corporate boards she was on. Lois stuffed the sheet into her purse.
Lois pushed her way through the crowd. She knew Perry had assigned Polly Harper to the press conference, but then Lois wasn’t there for Trevino’s statements about the Rain Forest Consortium – she had different fish to fry.
Trevino was standing on the dais with several other members of the Rain Forest Consortium – various corporate leaders known to be deeply interested in ecology. Lois recognized Trevino from her pictures. She was a handsome woman and the photos in Winninger’s office had proved she had been beautiful in her college days.
As Lois got to the front, she could hear the end of Trevino’s answer to someone’s question.
“... it's a global village now,” Trevino was saying. “We of the Rain Forest Consortium have to act accordingly.”
“How does it feel to be the first woman to hold this post?” someone asked.
“Well, I don't officially hold it for two days, but at the risk of being premature...” Trevino smiled for the cameras. “It feels great.”
It seemed the audience appreciated Trevino’s charm as they laughed along with her.
Lois wasn’t laughing. “Ms. Trevino, concerning the death of Dr. Vincent Winninger...”
“Dr. Winninger was a brilliant scientist,” Trevino said smoothly, “…and a dear friend of mine for many years. I was shocked and saddened by his death.”
“How do you feel about the ozone layer?” Lois asked.
Trevino looked confused and more than a little annoyed.
“What about increased male potency?” Lois added.
“Lois!” Clark hissed at her. “Have you…?”
“Who are you?” Trevino demanded. She glared at Lois, but there was something in her expression that said Lois had hit her target.
“Lois Lane, Daily Planet,” Lois responded.
“Well, Ms. Lane, I find your sense of humor odd, to say the least, and totally inappropriate. I suggest this would be a good time to close this press conference.” With that, Trevino walked off the platform.
There were murmurs of confusion and annoyance as the camera crews began to stow their gear. The print reporters wandered off.
“Bold, Lois,” Clark commented wryly. “Not too bright, but bold.”
“Did you see the look on her face? She knew exactly what I was talking about,” Lois told him. “Even if I didn't.”
“Well, now we'll never get to her.” Clark stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave her a glare of annoyed frustration. It was one sign of how upset Clark really was – he rarely showed annoyance when he was frustrated with her, more like an amused tolerance.
“Ms. Lane?” a man said from close-by. She turned to see a small dapper man standing next to her and Clark. He spoke with a Latino accent. Lois couldn’t place which nationality, not that she expected to – Clark was the one with the talents in that area.
“I am Dr. Trevino's administrative assistant. She wishes me to tell you that she will discuss whatever you like, privately,” the man continued.
Lois glanced over at Clark, who was watching the man warily.
“I'm... here with Mister Kent...” Lois started.
“I'm sorry. Just you, she said. You understand...”
Lois shrugged and gave Clark an apologetic look. “She wants to talk woman-to-woman. It's a sisterhood thing,” she explained.
“Sure, I understand completely,” Clark assured her. But his expression indicated something else. “I'm coming with you.”
The aide shrugged and started for the nearest building. Lois just rolled her eyes and followed him, Clark right beside her.
The aide led the way to the elevators and pressed the button for the top floor. Clark tried to start a conversation with the man, in English and in Spanish – at least Lois thought it was Spanish – but the aide refused to rise to the bait. After several minutes, the elevator arrived at its destination and the aide ushered them out into a bland corridor. He led them through a maze of featureless hallways to a steel door marked ‘Roof Access’.
“This way, please,” the aide said, opening the door and allowing Lois to pass.
“Lois, wait…” Clark said from behind her. Then the door slammed, leaving Clark on the other side. She turned to open the door for him and saw the pistol in the aide’s hand and it was pointing at her. He was out of arm’s reach, and she knew from her self-defense classes that even trying to grab the gun was a phenomenally bad idea. She kicked instead, catching his hand and was gratified to see the pistol fly landing some distance away.
The aide ran for the gun and Lois saw her chance. She ran, only to find there was no where to run to. The pebbled roof offered little cover and the shoes she was wearing weren’t designed for running.
She hid behind one of the air-conditioner housings and headed back to the access door. She heard pounding from the inside – someone trying to break through. She opened the door and Clark nearly fell on his face. She pushed him back and followed him through, the aide right behind her. Clark grabbed the door handle and tried to pull the door shut on the aide, catching the hand with the gun in the door frame.
A shot rang out. Clark slammed the door on the aide’s wrist one more time. The man on the other side of the door screamed and the gun dropped to the floor.
“Lois?” Clark said. His voice was shaking.
“I’m okay,” she assured him, even though her knees were weak and her own voice was shaking.
“Why don’t you call the cops?” he suggested. Lois thought she heard a touch of hysteria in his voice as he held the door shut on the ‘aide’s’ hand. Without another word Lois ran to find a phone.
-o-o-o-
Lois watched as Henderson gazed at the man in handcuffs sitting in the chair in the interrogation room. After a good deal of cajoling – Clark could be surprisingly persuasive – Henderson agreed to let Lois and Clark sit in on the interrogation. The man had been read his rights and his wrist had been checked. It was bruised, although she was sure Clark would have cheerfully broken it given the circumstances.
The ‘aide’ looked calm as he regarded the detectives and two reporters.
Lois peered more closely at the man and spotted a seam at his neck. She pointed it out to Henderson. Henderson reached out and pulled off a very thin mask and make-up.
“Sebastian Finn, I presume,” Henderson said.
“So... why'd you kill Dr. Winninger?” Lois asked.
“His Rosencrantz was atrocious,” Finn stated.
“But why come after me?” Lois asked.
“You could identify me,” Finn said. He sounded surprised that she would need to ask his motives.
“No, I couldn't,” Lois said.
Finn shrugged. “Well, that's the way it goes sometimes.”
“How does Barbara Trevino fit into this?” Lois asked.
Finn shook his head. “You can’t make me talk… Superman may have been the Man of Steel, but I have a will of iron.”
“I hate actors,” Lois groused. Henderson just chuckled.
-o-o-o-
With Finn behind bars, Lois was feeling a little safer. After giving their statements to Henderson, she and Clark went back to the newsroom. Jimmy was still researching Finn. Lois assigned herself to dig deeper into Vincent Winninger’s background. Clark took on the task of locating the elusive Doctor Hubert.
Jimmy hung up his phone at the same time Clark and Lois did.
“You first,” Lois told Jimmy.
“According to the police,” Jimmy began. “Sebastian Finn wasn't just moonlighting when he killed Winninger. The police think he's been a successful hitman for years. I guess he finally made his ability to disguise himself as anyone pay off.”
“I can top that.” Lois announced. “I just talked to the dean of the Philosophy department at Metropolis University. He used to be a member of the Elimont Commune. He knew Winninger, Finn and Trevino way back when. Apparently it was a regular Peyton Place. Winninger and Trevino used to be together, but then he dumped her.”
“Why?” Clark asked.
“Because Winninger felt she was selling out,” Lois related. “Abandoning the ideals they all believed in. Then, she took up with Finn. They eventually split, but stayed in contact.”
“I can top that,” Clark said with a grin. “Dr. Hubert, the man no one can find. Henderson finally admitted the police had him in protective custody. With Finn behind bars, he’s willing to talk to us tomorrow.”
“That's great but, we still don't know the connection between increased male potency, the rain forest, and Barbara Trevino,” Lois reminded them. “The police questioned her and she's got an airtight alibi, of course. She was getting in her limo. She claims she has no knowledge of any attempt on my life. It would be real nice if I could talk to her myself.”
“Yeah, good luck on that one,” Jimmy said, going back to his computer. LNN had been running Lois’s question and Trevino’s non-answer on every news break, making Lois look like a first class idiot. To say it was annoying was an understatement, even though LNN did follow the clip with the attempted murder story. Journalists were supposed to report the news, not be the news. Hopefully the bruhaha would die down in a few days.
-o-o-o-
It had been a long day. Lois still ached from Clark pushing her to the ground the night before. He was willing to take a bullet for me. She glanced over to where he sat at his desk. She knew he had finished his own work some time ago and was now tracking down leads from what Perry had dubbed the ‘Superman disk’.
Jimmy had finally gone home as had Perry and much of the rest of the staff. Luthor had called twice, first to offer to take her to dinner then an offer of lunch the next day, but Lois had put him off.
Clark finished his work and stepped over to Lois’s desk.
“Ready to call it a day?” Clark asked.
“Not quite. I've got a little more work,” Lois said.
“I'll wait.”
“Clark, there's no need,” Lois said. “Finn's in jail. I'll be fine.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes! And don't be hanging around outside waiting for me,” Lois warned him. “I don't plan to see you till tomorrow.”
“Okay, goodnight,” Clark said, but Lois knew he wasn’t happy leaving her alone. He could be so sweet, sometimes.
“Goodnight.”
Clark left, leaving Lois alone in the bullpen. She went back to her computer to finish her article. After a few moments her phone rang and she picked it up.
“Lois Lane.”
“Hi, Lois. Barbara Trevino here,” a woman’s voice said over the phone.
“I missed you the other day after the press conference,” Lois said, wondering what Trevino wanted. Lois didn’t for a minute believe that Trevino didn’t know that Finn had tried to kill her.
“No, I believe it was I who missed you,” Trevino said.
“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” Lois asked.
“I think I'll tell you when I see you,” Trevino said. “And that should be soon. Very soon.”
The phone went dead. Lois wasn’t sure what Trevino meant, but she was sure it wasn’t good. Finn was in jail, but Lois had the feeling her life was still in danger. And Clark wasn’t around.
-o-o-o-
She made her way to Clark’s apartment. She didn’t want to seem needy, especially after a week like this one, but Clark’s place felt safer than her own apartment.
The lights were on in his apartment. She knocked on the door and he opened it. He was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, obviously relaxing, maybe even getting ready for bed. The bandage on his arm was stark against his olive skin and she was reminded again how he had saved her life. Just like Superman.
“Hi, Clark,” she said.
“This is a surprise,” he said, moving aside to let her in. He closed the door behind her, but not before checking to see what was outside. He led the way down the steps to the living room, crossing to the kitchen. Lois saw a blender filled with something pink and frothy on the counter and watched as Clark poured the contents into a glass. “How 'bout a smoothie?” he asked. “It'll only take a second.”
“I'm not thirsty,” Lois said. She was trying not to show how upset and scared she was, but she knew she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Clark noticed.
“Lois, what's wrong?”
“Don't take this the wrong way...” she began.
“What?”
“I guess I'd just feel better if I could...” She looked over at the sofa.
“Stay here tonight?” Clark said, guessing her meaning.
She nodded and he pulled her into a hug. His heartbeat was slow and even and comforting and her head fit perfectly in the hollow of his shoulder.
‘I live by three rules,” she had told Clark soon after they’d met. ‘Never get involved in your stories, never let anyone else get there first, and never sleep with anyone you work with.’ Granted, she later confessed to him she had, at one time or another, broken each of those self-imposed rules. And now it looked she might just be breaking them again. The story had gotten her involved. And it felt very warm and safe in Clark’s arms right now.
She knew he had feelings for her – a simple friend or co-worker wouldn’t have shielded her body with his own as he had. But she was afraid of what would happen if she raised her head and kissed him. They had a comfortable relationship at the moment. They were friends – best friends. And she could destroy that in a moment if she had misread his feelings. Especially when she wasn’t really sure of hers.
She had thought that Superman was the love of her life. But Superman was dead and gone. Clark was alive and here.
“Want to watch a movie?” Clark asked.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I think HBO is running Princess Bride.”
“With the R.U.S.es?”
“Rodents of Unusual Size? Yeah.”
“The hero saves the day?”
“Naturally.”
“Smoothies and popcorn?”
“Of course.”
-o-o-o-
Everything looks better in the morning, especially when there’s fresh coffee brewing and croissants with strawberry jam – although Lois noticed that the croissants weren’t quite as good as the ones Clark used to get. Again she wondered where the little restaurants were that he bought take-away for them. He had always refused to tell her although she had, occasionally, harbored the suspicion that some of those shops where in places only Superman could get to.
Superman is dead… She had taken his letter home and put it in her scrapbook – the one she had been putting together about Superman. But she also remembered that Murray had told her that Superman had written two letters – one to her and one to someone else. She knew it wasn’t to Clark. He would have shared it with her, just as she had shared her letter with him. But if Clark was as close to Superman as she thought he’d been, why hadn’t Superman left him a letter?
Clark was in the shower when she spotted the torn envelope in the recycling bin. It was the same Superman Foundation stationary envelope that her own letter had come in. There was no letter inside – she hadn’t expected to find one – but the envelope was addressed, not to Clark Kent, but to Jonathan and Martha Kent. Superman hadn’t left a letter for Clark, but had written one to his parents?
“Clark?” she asked when he came out of the bathroom fully dressed. She held up the torn envelope.
“Oh, yeah. In all the confusion, I forgot to tell you about that,” he muttered. He seemed a little embarrassed that she’d found it.
“Superman left a letter for your parents?”
He nodded. “And don’t ask me what it said, because they wouldn’t let me see it and they wouldn’t tell me what was in it. Mom just said that she’ll show it to me when I remember him.”
“And Doctor Friskin says that chances are, you’ll remember when you need to?”
“Yeah, that’s about it,” he told her. “But there’re no guarantees that’ll ever happen. It's so damned frustrating.”
“Clark… I just want you to know, I appreciate how hard this has been for you,” she said. “First you lose your memory, and Superman ends up dead, then you end up worrying about somebody trying to kill me.”
“I like worrying about you, Lois,” he said. “And with Superman gone… Well, somebody’s got to watch your back.”
-o-o-o-
They took a bus downtown. Clark explained it was difficult, if not impossible, for a car to follow a bus without being noticed – a city bus stopped nearly every other block and it would be nearly impossible to predict when a passenger was going to get on or off.
She accepted his word for it, choosing not to remind him that all bets would be off if a killer simply boarded the bus after them and opened fire.
They made it to the Daily Planet without incident, aside from a drunk making a pass at her.
“Now you know why I don’t ride busses,” Lois muttered to Clark. He chuckled.
“Your elitism is showing,” he told her as the bus stopped next to the Daily Planet building.
There were noticeably more people in uniforms in the lobby, including MPD uniforms. They both had to show their identification before being allowed on the elevator to get to the newsroom.
Lois noticed Clark eying everyone they passed, glowering if they got too close.
“Clark, drop the Kevin-Costner-protecting-Whitney-Houston bit,” she told him as the elevator doors opened on their floor. “We're inside the Planet. I think we're safe here.”
Perry spotted them coming down the steps to the bullpen floor. “I've put on extra security in the lobby. Nobody gets in or out without proper I.D.,” he announced.
Lois gave Clark an ‘I told you so’ look and a shrug.
“Excuse me for caring,” he muttered.
Lois relented, squeezing his hand. “I love it that you care.”
She felt Clark relax a little. He had been taking his self-imposed assignment so seriously. She didn’t really mind Clark’s actions. It was comforting, actually, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.
“Hubert's waiting for you at Winninger's office,” Jimmy told them.
“Won't he meet us here?” Clark asked.
Jimmy shook his head. “Uh Uh. He's afraid to come out, with what happened to Winninger and all.”
It made sense. Hubert didn’t believe Finn was the only threat out there any more than she did.
“I assume you're with me,” Lois asked Clark.
“I assumed I would go alone.”
“It's still my story,” she reminded him.
He stared at her a long moment. “You are really high maintenance, you know that?” he said, a bemused smile flickering around his mouth.
“But I'm worth it.”
-o-o-o-
Hubert was waiting inside Winninger’s office. He checked their identification before letting them in – of course, if they had been assassins, he would have already been dead. Lois was a little surprised to see how good Finn’s make-up had been – he could have been Hubert’s identical twin.
“I’m so glad you were able to come,” Hubert told them. “I know you’re the ones looking into Vincent’s murder.”
“We’re just trying to figure out why anyone would have wanted him dead,” Clark explained.
“I think I know,” Hubert told them. “During the time Vincent spent in the Amazon, one of the discoveries he made was a rare plant which, when correctly harvested and processed, increased male potency.”
So his prowess with the ladies wasn't all God-given?” Lois asked.
“Correct.”
“Better sex through science,” Clark observed with a shrug. “Why not?”
“He also discovered vast mineral deposits beneath areas of the rain forest that are currently protected by law.” Hubert added.
“How does Barbara Trevino fit into all this?” Clark asked.
“Barbara knew of Vincent's discoveries and research, and tried to convince him they should be exploited for their commercial value. He turned her down cold,” Hubert told them.
“Wait a minute!” Lois told them and started fishing around in her purse for the sheet of paper she knew had to be there. She finally found it and unfolded it.
“This is the background sheet on Trevino they handed out at the press conference,” she explained, scanning the sheet. “Here we go… Barbara Trevino is, among other things, on the board of directors of Hobbs Mining.” She looked at both men. “Extensive mining operations in protected areas of the rain forest would constitute an ecological disaster.”
“Winninger knew that,” Hubert said quietly. “The world saw him as a hedonist, but he was really a humanist. The plant he discovered was just one of the many potential treasures hidden deep in the rain forest, waiting to be discovered for the eventual good of all mankind. He devoted his life to preserving that resource.”
-o-o-o-
Another late night at the Daily Planet. Lois, Clark, Cat Grant and Perry were the only ones left working in the newsroom. Perry had volunteered to use his own contacts to get through to Hobbs Mining.
“Anything?” Lois asked when he passed her desk on the way to the elevators. He paused and shook his head.
“No, they're being very closed mouthed. Ben Bradlee used to call it 'non-denial' denials,” Perry told her. Perry looked as discouraged as Lois felt. “You going to be all right?”
“Sure, I've got my protector over there.” Lois nodded in Clark’s direction just as he walked straight into the corner of a desk. She watched as he winced, rubbing his thigh. He was going to have a nasty bruise.
“Oh, brother,” Perry muttered. “Well, you be careful.”
He started toward the elevator again. “Good night,” he said as he stepped inside the elevator.
Lois nodded and went back to her work. She wondered a little at Clark’s clumsiness. He had won awards as a high school and college quarterback. Clumsy people didn’t do that. After a few moments, she sensed someone standing by her desk. She looked up to see Cat Grant, dressed in her usual skin-tight, eye-wateringly garish sheath dress.
“Big story, huh,” the other woman commented, leaning against Lois’s desk.
Lois didn’t answer.
“You must have been terrified.”
“It was a little scary,” Lois admitted.
Cat chuckled. “You want to talk scary? I covered the governor's wife's speech at the museum volunteers' luncheon today. Her dress… that was scary.”
Lois gave her a polite smile, hoping Cat would get the hint, and went back to her work.
Cat didn’t seem to get the hint. “You can tell me. You were scared, right?”
“Like I said, a little.”
“A lot,” Cat contradicted.
“Little.”
“Lot…”
Lois looked up at her. “Why is it so important to you that I admit how scared I was?” she wondered aloud.
“It just makes you more human,” Cat explained.
Lois gave her a blank look. She honestly had no idea what Cat was referring to. Lois was a good investigative reporter as well as crime beat reporter – one of the best in Metropolis. She had always been curious, stubborn with an overwhelming need to be right as well as needing to know the truth. All good reporters had those qualities. It simply never occurred to her that other people thought she was ‘odd’, or other than human.
“Okay, I write as well as you do. I'm more fun at parties. But you're the star here…” Cat said. “The chief's favorite. In on all the action. And when you get in trouble, look who's hanging around to come to the rescue…” she gestured vaguely in Clark’s direction. “Not only a cute guy, but until he… you know… you had a god with a cape looking after you...”
Lois had never heard Cat talk like this. It almost sounded like she was jealous of Lois. “But...” Lois began to protest.
“Excuse me. You asked, I am answering,” Cat said. “You've got something the rest of us don't have, Lois. So it would be nice if for once, just once, you could admit that you have bad days, problems, and fears just like the rest of us.”
Cat straightened up and stalked off. Lois had to admit that it had never occurred to her that someone like Cat Grant might envy someone like her. She took a deep breath.
“Cat!” Lois called. The other woman paused and looked back at her. “I was scared… a lot,” Lois admitted.
Cat gave her a long look, then nodded and walked away.
Clark walked up to Lois’s desk. Lois knew he had finished his own work some time before and was simply waiting for her. “I guess it would be foolish to ask if you're ready to go,” he said.
“I've just got...” Lois began.
“…a little more work to do,” Clark completed for her. He sighed. “I want you to promise me you won't leave before I get back.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’ve been trying to get hold of this old acquaintance of mine ever since we talked to Doctor Hubert,” Clark told her. “He’s finally got time to talk to me, but I figure I’d better do it in person.”
“An old source?” Lois asked. She knew Clark had sources she didn’t know, just as she had sources she hadn’t shared with Clark.
“Something like that,” Clark said. “Do you promise you won't leave?”
“You want it in blood?” she asked.
“Great,” Clark conceded. “But I also don't want you here alone.”
Lois looked around. Except for a cleaning woman, there was no one left in the newsroom besides her, Clark, and Jimmy.
“I'll stick around,” Jimmy volunteered. “I don't mind. Really.”
“Okay,” Clark agreed. He started to go, but turned back to look at Lois.
“What?” Lois demanded.
“I'll be back to pick you up in a little while,” Clark told her. Then he was gone and room felt cold.
Jimmy settled back at his own desk. Lois wasn’t sure what he was doing. Doing research for Clark, probably. She picked up her coffee cup and realized it was empty.
“How about a cup of coffee?” she asked loudly enough for Jimmy to hear.
“Sure, I'd love one,” Jimmy said. Then it occurred to him what she meant. “Oh. I'll be right back.” He disappeared around the corner of the coffee area.
Lois went back to checking her notes, checking off the items she’d covered in her article. Then the point broke off her pencil. She checked her desk for a pencil sharpener or another pencil but didn’t find either. With a sigh of resignation, Lois headed for the storage room for a pencil sharpener and a box of pencils. She saw the cleaning woman dumping the desk trashcans into the large can on her service cart. The woman didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her as she crossed the floor.
Lois found an open case of pencils and grabbed one package. Then she started to look for a sharpener. Someone had ‘straightened up’ the storage room a few weeks before and Lois was still getting used to the new organization. Then she heard the door open and close. She turned to see the cleaning woman standing in front of the door.
“Oh, you scared me,” Lois said. “Are you looking for something?”
The cleaning woman locked the door.
“I found it,” the cleaning woman said – she sounded exactly like Barbara Trevino. And she had a gun in her hand. “Now, tell me where that notebook is.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Lois said, her heart in her throat.
“I knew Winninger was about to expose my true motivation in wanting to be appointed chairperson of the Rain Forest Consortium,” the cleaning woman said. As she spoke, she removed her gray wig and peeled off layers of prosthetic make-up. Trevino.
“From there it would have been easy to grant Hobbs the exclusive strip mining licenses they needed to exploit the area,” Trevino said. “So, I called on our old friend Finn to eliminate him. But, Finn left a loose end.”
“Me.”
“And the notebook. Where is it?”
“There's nothing in the notebook except Winninger's processing formula for the male potency plant,” Lois told her.
Trevino shrugged. “Then I guess I went to a lot of trouble for nothing. But, with the strip mining proceeding as we speak and you eliminated...”
“Eliminated?” Lois repeated. That sounded so not good. Clark, where are you?
“I guess that's the way it goes sometimes,” Trevino said. She seemed utterly nonchalant about committing cold blooded murder. She tightened her finger on the trigger, but there was a sound outside the door. When Trevino turned to look, Lois lashed out. There wasn’t enough clear space in the storage room for a kick, but Lois managed to grab Trevino’s gun hand, forcing the muzzle up. The gun went off, showering them with plaster. Then Lois banged Trevino’s wrist against one of the filing cabinets, keeping the gun pointed away from her.
“Help!” Lois screamed. The distraction gave Trevino an opening and she took it, pushing her free hand against Lois’s neck, forcing her head back. Then, the door opened and an arm snaked around Trevino’s neck, pulling her back from Lois. Lois managed to give Trevino’s gun hand one last crack against the file cabinet and the gun dropped to the floor.
Lois looked up to see Jimmy with his arm around Trevino’s neck. Jimmy began to back out of the storage room, still holding onto Trevino, but the older woman dropped almost to her knees, throwing Jimmy off balance. The woman started to run. Jimmy grabbed at her, but he wasn’t quite fast enough.
“Grab her!” Lois yelled, following Jimmy out the door after Trevino.
Lois stopped short at the sight just outside the door – Clark had Trevino face down on the floor, one knee in the middle of her back.
“Are you all right?” he asked, looking up at Lois.
She nodded. “I am, but the rain forest isn't.”
“The rain forest is okay too,” Clark said. “The local area tribes weren’t well pleased to find that the Rain Forest Consortium had sold them out and had authorized strip mining in their highly sensitive and protected tribal lands. All mining operations have been suspended pending a full international investigation.”
“How do you know that?” Lois asked.
Clark grinned. “Vincent Winninger wasn’t the only American to spend time in the rain forest. And the deputy-consul happens to be an old friend of mine.”
The police arrived and placed Trevino under arrest. It was finally over. The conspirators were in jail and Lane and Kent had the exclusive.
“So, the deputy-consul of Amazonia happens to be an old friend of yours?”
Clark grinned. “He got through to the locals, let them know what we suspected. Apparently it got a little nasty for a bit, but everything’s under control now.”
“And you couldn’t tell me this before you left?” Lois demanded.
“Considering what was at risk, Paolo didn’t want to tell me how it was going down until it was all handled, even though I was the one who warned him there was a problem,” Clark told her. “By the way, he gave me the names of the board of directors of Hobbs Mining. Guess who else is on the list?”
Lois didn’t have to guess. “Luthor.”
It made a bizarre sort of sense. What Luthor didn’t own outright, he was on the boards of directors. She also knew that Luthor was too smart not to know what Trevino had been up to and too slick to get caught - this time.
Lois grabbed Clark’s arm and smiled at him. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“I thought you might take me home,” she said, giving him a cheeky grin.
“I thought you didn't need a bodyguard?”
“Who said anything about a bodyguard?” she asked, grabbing her coat.
