Home V: Obsession -- 5/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
Clark nodded, aware that she was cutting back on the size of her usual order considerably for the sake of her mother's presence. He was going to need to take her somewhere else after lunch to make up the difference. "Don't forget the milk," he said, letting his eyelid flicker in a wink that only she saw. "You know what the doctor said about getting your calcium."
She kicked him lightly under the table. "Yes, dear."
Clark saw the corners of Rob's mouth twitch. Mariann was nodding wisely. "Clark is right, Lori. You need to watch your nutrition very closely while you're expecting."
"I am, Mother," Lori said. "We're also taking a maternal fitness class starting this evening, on my doctor's recommendation."
"Oh really? That's a very good idea. Who is ..."
A young man approached the table. "Are you ready to order?"
**********
And now, Part 5:
"I'm glad he interrupted us," Lori said quietly to her husband as they walked out to the Jeep an hour later. Ahead of them, Rob and Mariann were getting into the rental car that was their transportation while in Metropolis. "The last thing I need is Mother getting nosy about which fitness center we're going to and who my doctor is. I don't want to have to explain that my doctor is in Houston and that I fly out to see her once a week."
"No kidding," Clark agreed. Metropolis was the largest city in North America, and, despite the drop in the world's population, three or four times the size it had been when he had first set foot in it a century ago, with plenty of obstetricians and specialists in the various problems that could arise during a pregnancy. Mariann would be bound to get either suspicious or worried, or both, and start asking even more awkward questions if she were to discover that her daughter was seeing a specialist in Houston when there were hundreds of perfectly competent doctors available in her home city. Of course, the only specialist in the world in her particular complication resided in Houston.
Lori waved to her parents as they pulled out of the lot and let out her breath. "So far, so good." She glanced at her wrist talker. "I have two interviews this afternoon. I'm due at the first one in forty-five minutes and I want to stop somewhere on the way for a hamburger or something."
"Thought you might," Clark said. "Why don't you go through McFeegle's drive through? They're only a couple of blocks from here."
"I think I will," Lori said. "What's your schedule for the next couple of hours?"
"I have to interview the head of yesterday's search team, but that's all," he told her. "After that, I can call you."
"I wouldn't mind having you with me when I interview the lawyer," Lori said. "Last I heard, he was claiming police entrapment for his client."
Clark raised an eyebrow. "Right. That was why a couple of dozen cars chased him across the bay and they had to use a nullifier to bring him down. All right, I'll call as soon as I've finished." He opened the passenger door for her. "Do you mind if I drive you to the first interview? Superman can leave from there."
"Sure." Lori climbed into the passenger seat. "Any specific reason?"
He closed her door and a moment later was climbing into the driver's seat. "Nothing in particular. I just happen to enjoy your company."
Lori grinned. "I'm hardly likely to object to that."
**********
Clark unlocked the door to the top-floor apartment that he and Lori shared. He had chosen a high security building when he had decided to return to Metropolis, as it made things that much more difficult for intruders to get into his home, which was important considering his second job. The fact that it was on the building's top floor with a convenient skylight was also a definite plus for his Superman identity.
"The class orientation starts in an hour," Lori said, glancing at her wrist-talker as Clark closed the door behind them. "Any calls for help?"
He shook his head. "I notified the others that this particular time is reserved for you and me," he explained. "They know about the fitness class."
"That's convenient," Lori said. She flopped down on the sofa and pulled off her shoes. "These things should be condemned as a hazard to navigation," she added, rubbing her toes. "I don't see men wearing instruments of torture on their feet."
"Fashion isn't fair to women," Clark agreed. "Maybe you should get a pair of that new kind we saw them advertising the other evening. You know -- the comfortable business shoe for women executives."
"I just might," she said. "I've had it with these things. They're rubbing a callus on my heel." She tossed the shoes onto the coffee table and stood up, flexing her toes on the carpet. "That feels better."
Clark glanced at the clock. "Maybe I should give you a foot rub."
She shook her head. "Last time you did that, we forgot about a dinner engagement. Your foot rubs are dangerous."
"Well, it wasn't the *foot rub* exactly," he pointed out.
"No, it was what it turned into," she replied, with a grin. "And that may have been where Junior here came from." She patted her stomach. "Maybe you could give me one after we get back from the class. In the meantime, I'm going to get into my gym clothes."
He laughed. "Killjoy. Okay, the class it is, but I'll keep that foot rub option in mind."
"Do that." Lori headed for the bedroom to find her gym clothes. "At least I'll be wearing gym shoes. The only problem with them is they make me look so short."
"Who cares?" Clark asked. "Nobody in their right mind would think your height made a difference."
"Oh yeah? You don't have to worry -- you're six feet tall. I'm five feet four inches in my bare feet."
"Look at it this way," he remarked. "It might make the next bad guy underestimate you. Not that I want to see you facing down any more bad guys."
"Clark, it wasn't my fault I walked in on a jewelry store robbery the day after New Year's. And I wasn't about to let him take me hostage."
He couldn't help a snort of amusement. "He found out the hard way that it wasn't a good idea. You gave *me* déjà vu that time. I think it's part of your karma or something."
"Probably it was just as well that he was a first-timer," Lori said. She shed her blouse, wiggled out of the slacks and hung the clothing over the back of a chair. "Not to mention that Superwoman and Blue Lightning showed up five minutes later, ready to tear him apart. Poor guy nearly had a nervous breakdown on the spot. I almost felt sorry for him."
"I didn't," Clark said. "Besides, you probably dissuaded him from a life of crime."
She giggled, pulling open her bottom drawer to dig out her gym clothing, but didn't answer. Clark held the sleeve of her shirt when she groped blindly for it, the garment over her head. "I only wish trouble didn't just seem to find you so easily," he said as her head emerged from the depths of the clothing. "I know you don't go looking for it, but it happens to you all the same."
**********
The Hobs Fitness Center was a large, nondescript building originally intended to be a warehouse, Clark saw as he touched down in the shadows of an alley across the street from the establishment. A sign had been erected over the doorway announcing the Hobs Fitness Center, and a row of cars pulled up against the side of the structure showed that it was indeed open for business. The area immediately around the building was well lighted: not a bad precaution to take, he thought, considering the seedy nature of the neighborhood. That was why he and Lori had elected to fly this evening. She had been unwilling to risk their vehicle to the uncertain conditions obtaining in this section of the city.
He set his wife on her feet and took her hand. "Shall we go, Ms. Kent?"
"Let's," she responded, looking him up and down with an appreciative lift of her brows. "You look good in sweats, Mr. Kent. I'll be the envy of every woman in the class."
He grinned, reflecting that a number of the men in the place would probably have better builds than he did, if they worked out there at all frequently. Lori could have been reading his mind.
"You're built just right," she told him. "Not underdeveloped, and not overdeveloped, either. Some of the body builders I've seen look positively grotesque. You look just the way you should."
Well, at least he wasn't grotesque, he reflected as they crossed the street. Still, it didn't matter how much or how little he worked out. His body always remained exactly the same when it came to muscular development, so it was just as well that Lori liked him as he was.
He glanced down at his petite wife and smiled. In spite of her attempt to suck in her middle, her rounded tummy gave away her condition for all to see. He knew she had trouble understanding it, but it made her all the more beautiful to him. He slipped an arm around her waist.
"Clark Kent, you are a completely hopeless romantic," she said, with disconcerting accuracy. "Do me a favor and don't change, okay?"
"Not on your life." He pushed open the unpowered door and they stepped into the Hobs Fitness Center. The young woman at the receptionist's counter looked up and her face lit up with a smile of recognition.
"Mr. Kent! Ms. Lyons! I didn't expect to see you again so soon," Deirdre Monitor said. "I take it you're here for the maternal fitness class?"
"That's right," Lori said.
"You're a little early," Deirdre said. "If you like, I can have someone show you around while you wait."
"Lori!" Clark turned his head at the yell, and saw a tall, muscular young man with a crop of shoulder-length blond hair and a handlebar mustache of truly magnificent proportions charge across the room toward them. He engulfed Lori in a hug, sweeping her off her feet. "Baby, it's *great* to see you!"
Connor Cooper, Clark surmised, as the young Atlas set Lori back on her feet.
"It's great to see you too, Connor," Lori replied, unruffled by the exuberant greeting.
"Let me guess," Connor said, surveying Clark critically. "This must be the lucky guy you married."
"Well, he's the guy I married, anyway. This is Clark Kent," Lori said. "Clark, I'd like you to meet Connor Cooper."
Clark extended a hand, only to find it engulfed in Cooper's, being enthusiastically shaken. Connor Cooper was at least six inches taller than he, Clark thought, and would have out-massed him by a good forty pounds if he had been human. He made Clark think of one of the traditional Viking warriors of old, who should have been swinging a battleaxe, not running a gym.
"Great to meet you," Connor was saying. "I figured you had to be some kind of super man to convince Lori to actually marry you. She always said she wasn't going to get married until she got her first Pulitzer."
Clark raised his brows and looked at his wife, who had turned red. Connor laughed. "I've been reading your stuff since the Mayflower deal. I wasn't surprised. I figured Lori'd shake up any news service that hired her."
"You were right about that," Clark said. "You worked on the college paper with her, didn't you?"
Connor nodded. "That's right. She joined the Clarion staff a year after I did, and two years later, she was the editor. Conned me into writing a health and physical fitness column for the whole last year."
"I figured you'd write best about what you really enjoyed," Lori said. "I was right, too. If you don't mind, I thought we'd take your maternal fitness class and write about our experiences here."
Connor grinned. "That'd be great," he told her. "I can use the publicity to get this place off the ground. Lots of guys have to be talked into this kind of class," he added with a glance at Clark. "Your other half looks like he knows his way around a gym, though."
Lori nodded. "Clark's pretty athletic," she said, straight-faced. "He didn't argue about the class, though."
Clark laughed. "Well, I have a part in this, too," he pointed out. "If I can learn how to help Lori get in shape for this whole thing, it's the least I can do."
"Good attitude," Connor said. "Lots of women let the physical fitness part slide during a pregnancy, but the best thing she can do to give herself an easy delivery is to stay fit. That's why we offer the class. Doesn't hurt the expectant dad to keep in good condition, either, and the two of you taking it together is good for both of you. Lori'll do a lot better with you to help than by herself." He wrapped an arm around Lori's shoulders and steered her toward the other persons who had been watching their meeting from the reception counter. "Come on. I want to introduce you to the other instructors here. Our receptionist is Deirdre Monitor ..."
"We met the other night," Lori said. "I didn't know she worked here, though."
"Okay. I don't think you've met my instructors, though." Connor pulled her forward. "Guys, this is Lori Lyons and her other half, Clark Kent. She works at the Daily Planet now, but she used to be my editor at the NTSU Clarion." Connor indicated a short, muscular man with closely cropped dark hair and a set of shoulders as wide as his own. "Lori, this is Paul Brown, who's in charge of the weight room. This," he continued, indicating the remaining woman, dark-haired and tanned, "is Marcella Evans. She's going to teach your class." Marcella, Clark thought, looked fit and trim, and if she carried any extra fat, he couldn't tell. "Marce was a phys ed major at NTSU like me," Connor continued. "We were in the same class. And this is Jacob Prince." He indicated the second man, a taller, leaner version of Brown. "Jake instructs Aerobics, and is assisting Marce with the maternal fitness class. Clark and Lori are going to take the class and do a piece on it for their news service," he added to his employees.
"Pleased to meet you," Paul Brown said, sticking out a hand. "I guess you must know any new business always has a problem getting started. We can sure use the free publicity."
Lori took his hand. "I know. Connor got hold of me a couple of weeks ago and told me about his gym. I figured that, since my doctor had recommended a class, this was the perfect opportunity to help him and myself at the same time. Besides, this is something a lot of women don't seem to know much about."
"I guess you two were pretty good friends at school?" Marcella said.
Connor grinned. "She was more a drill sergeant than an editor," he said. "I ended up writing that fitness column because of her." He dropped an arm over her shoulders. "Me, writing, of all things!"
"It got you through your English requirement, didn't it?" Lori said, giving him a jab in the ribs with one elbow. "Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to convince your English professor to give you credit for that?"
Connor nodded. "Seriously, I owe her a lot," he said. "Anyway, I wanted you all to meet the lady who helped me get where I am. Come on, Lori, let me show you and Clark around before the class starts."
**********
The class was slowly breaking up, and Lori experimentally flexed an arm. The exercises hadn't been particularly strenuous, but her muscles knew they'd been working. Clark got smoothly to his feet and gave her a hand up.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"Of the class? I think it's going to put me in good shape. Do you remember all those stretches I have to do every evening?"
He tapped his forehead. "All memorized."
"Naturally," Lori said. "What was I thinking?" She glanced over her shoulder at the two instructors, who were answering questions from several of the students. "I guess I'll get interviews with them next time. Or maybe I can come by here tomorrow when they're not so busy."
"Give them a call in the morning," Clark advised. "Right now you'd have to fight for time with them."
"Yeah." Lori picked up her towel. "Are you ready to head for home? I want to write up my impressions while they're still fresh in my mind."
Clark nodded. "All set. You can write and I'll fix us something to eat."
"Something healthy, I hope," Connor's voice said from behind them.
Lori turned around. "You still haven't broken that habit, I see," she said.
"What habit?" Clark asked.
"Sneaking up on people from behind and scaring them out of their pants," Lori said, fixing Connor with an accusing stare.
He grinned. "You can't intimidate me with that look anymore, Lyons," he told her. "Actually, I was wondering if you have a few minutes to talk," he added in a lower voice, becoming serious for a moment. "The gym closes at ten, but I'm off in a couple of minutes. There's a coffee shop down the street where we could talk privately. It's called Marge's Coffee Corner."
"Do they mind having people coming in in their sweats?" Lori asked.
"Nope," Connor said. "I go there for dinner a lot. They know me."
"No problem, then," Clark said. "Shall we wait and go with you or meet you there?"
"I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes," Connor said.
**********
"I wonder what's up," Lori said as they left the gym a few minutes later.
"Good question." Clark said. "I guess we'll find out." He led the way into the nearest alley, and a moment later, Superman flashed upward fast enough that even someone who was watching carefully would have seen only a blur, and certainly couldn't have identified his passenger. Marge's Coffee Corner was a little establishment at the end of the block, frequented, it seemed, by working class men and women with jobs in the nearby areas. Only a few older ground cars were parked in the lot behind the coffee shop and no aircars at all. Clark landed in the shadows provided by a burnt-out street light and a moment later, he and Lori entered Marge's Coffee Corner.
There was an empty booth in the far corner, and Clark led his wife directly to that one. As they took their seats, Lori took out a notebook. "I need to make a few notes," she explained, "before I forget what I wanted to say about tonight's class."
"Go ahead. I'll watch for Connor," Clark said.
"Thanks." Lori began to scribble furiously.
A waitress appeared with silverware and water. "Would you like to order something to drink?" she inquired.
"Two coffees for now," Clark said. "And a extra-large nachos for an appetizer."
Lori barely glanced up. "Extra guacamole, sour cream and cheese," she said. "And an order of breaded mozzarella sticks with dipping sauce. And a glass of milk," she added as if in afterthought.
"Connor will be scandalized," Clark observed. He glanced at the waitress. "We're waiting for someone, so we'll order the rest of the meal after he gets here."
"All right," she said. "That was extra guacamole, sour cream and cheese? *And* mozzarella sticks?"
"That's right," Clark said. "And a large milk."
"You're from the Fitness Center?" she asked, glancing appreciatively at Clark.
"Yes," Clark said. "Do people from the gym come here often?"
"Sure," she said. "All the time. If you can eat like that and still stay in this kind of shape, I gotta sign up."
Clark didn't comment. Lori made a final note and closed the little book. "There," she said. "I think that covers everything for tonight."
The waitress departed and Clark glanced toward the front of the restaurant just as the door opened to admit Connor. He raised a hand to attract the man's attention. "Connor's here," he said.
Lori looked up, as Connor slid into the seat opposite them. "Thanks for coming," he said without preliminary. "I need to talk to you. After what happened yesterday, I knew I had to find someone who could help me. You two are investigative reporters, and I need someone who understands this stuff."
"Are you talking about --" Lori began.
"I saw the article about the woman who was stabbed last night not far from the gym," Connor said, keeping his voice low. "Her name was Ginnie Talbot. The police were questioning me about her this morning, Lori. Since you wrote the article, you probably know she was one of my instructors."
Lori nodded. "I talked to the police today."
"What you may not know, however," Connor said, "is that there have been four other murdered women in the last three years, and all of them knew me! I'm a suspect, and I don't blame the cops a bit. The only reason I'm not under arrest is that for two of them, I was teaching a class and couldn't possibly have been the killer, but there's got to be some connection to me. It's too much of a coincidence otherwise. I need you to help me find out who's doing this and stop him before he kills anybody else!"
**********
tbc
