For previous parts of the story, go here: http://www.lcficmbs.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=6;t=000871
How I Spent My Christmas Vacation: One Year Later -- 7/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"I guess I can see how you sort of drifted to Lana," Lois said thoughtfully. "I guess it never occurred to me that it was as tough for you as a kid as it was for me. It's too bad we didn't know each other back then."
"Yeah. Moral support and all that. If your father had let me associate with you," Clark said. "Anyway, I think I've proven myself since then, but I guess it still rankles a bit."
"He wouldn't have had any say at all after he left, and Mother was so smashed most of the time that she'd never have noticed," Lois said. "Then, after I was in college, Dad paid for my education, but he never took much interest in anything I did after he found out that I wasn't going to go into medicine, so I could have associated with Jack the Ripper and he'd have never known. And you had to be more socially acceptable than Jack the Ripper." She took his arm. "Come on, let's go get some lunch."
**********
And now, Part 7:
Maisie's Diner was moderately busy just before eleven in the morning, Kansas time. Lois Lane and Charlie King stood in the entrance for a few seconds before Lois spotted an empty table near the rear of the room. They took their seats, and Clark pulled off his hat, careful not to dislodge his blond wig.
"Do I look okay?" he asked.
Lois was busy removing her coat. "You look fine. Your wig is straight and you don't look a bit like Mr. GQ Kent."
Clark grinned a little, fingering the pink earring. Hopefully his old acquaintances in town wouldn't recognize him either. When he'd left he'd been a lot rougher around the edges, and he'd only been here a couple of times since, mostly to take care of business at the farmhouse. He and Lois had come here last year to get rid of as much Kryptonite as they could find but they hadn't been anxious to advertise the reason for their mission and had avoided the residents of Smallville.
He squirmed out of his coat and half got to his feet to hang the article of clothing over the back of one of the empty chairs at their table, glancing around as he did so. He was a stranger in town, he reminded himself. Charlie King didn't know Pete Ross, the biggest bully in high school when he had been there, or Aaron Wilkins, whom he had tutored in English during his senior year. He didn't even recognize Rachel Harris, who had just walked in the door.
Maisie Allen, who had run the diner for as long as he could remember, wended her way through the maze of tables and chairs, to pause beside their table. She smiled at them with the friendly smile that he remembered from his days in high school. "How are you folks today?"
"Fine," Lois said.
She set a pair of menus down on the table. "Can I get you something to drink while you decide?"
Clark nodded. "Thanks. That would be nice. I'd like coffee, please. It's pretty cold today."
Maisie cast him a sharp look, and Clark saw her glance at his pink earring, but she said nothing and turned to Lois. "Would you like anything?"
Lois ordered coffee as well and Maisie left them to peruse the menus.
"Maisie's added stuff to her menu," Clark said after a minute. "It all looks good. I can't make up my mind what I want."
"That's because you're really hungry," Lois told him. "Better pick something. She'll be back any minute."
Clark nodded, scanning the menu again, his mouth watering. "I guess I'll have the steak sandwich and fries," he said finally. "And maybe a side of onion rings, and a bowl of soup, and I think some Cole slaw. That carrot cake looks good for dessert, too."
"Take it easy," Lois said with a grin. "You're going to get fat at that rate. Perry would say your eyes are bigger than your stomach. If I were you I'd stick with the sandwich and fries, and maybe the soup. Order the dessert after you've eaten, if you're still hungry. And if you're *still* hungry after that, you can order something to go."
"I guess I'm not used to being really hungry," Clark admitted with a small grin. "Okay; I guess I'd better take your advice. You have more experience with this being hungry thing."
Rachel Harris crossed the room and took a seat at the table next to theirs. She gave them a curious glance and then a second one. "New in town?" she asked.
"Yes," Lois said.
"Just passing through?"
"Not really," Lois said. "I'm Lois Lane, from the Daily Planet in Metropolis, and this is Charles King, who sometimes works with me."
Rachel glanced curiously at his earring. "The Daily Planet? What's a big newspaper like yours doing in a little town like ours?"
Lois glanced at Clark. "Charlie and I are in the middle of an investigation. Superman dropped us off here a while ago."
Rachel's eyes widened. "Superman? Why didn't he stay around?"
"He had an emergency he needed to handle," Lois said smoothly. "He left us to find out what we can. He'll be back later to pick us up."
"Oh," Rachel said, frowning slightly at Lois. "You work with him, don't you?"
"We're partners," Lois said.
"Yeah, I remember seeing your name on his articles," Rachel said. "So, what are you investigating for him?"
"We're trying to find out," Lois said, "if anyone has been seen on or nearby the Kent farm in the last few months -- people who aren't from this area. I guess the first person to ask would be the sheriff, so, do you know?"
Rachel frowned. "Out-of-towners? Now that you mention it --"
"You mean you saw someone?"
Rachel shook her head. "No, but Wayne Irig -- that's the owner of the farm nearest the Kent place -- saw some treasure hunters on the property a couple of months ago."
"Treasure hunters?" Clark said.
"People snooping around the place with metal detectors," Rachel said. "We get 'em out here, sometimes. There's some stupid legend that the Dalton Gang buried the gold from a bank robbery somewhere in the area of Smallville."
"I see," Lois said. "Is that all? No other strangers?"
"Kind of." She scowled, obviously making an effort to remember. "Wayne mentioned seeing a survey crew over at the Kent farm, a while back."
"A survey crew?"
Rachel nodded. "He thought Clark was having it done. Maybe going to sell the property or make improvements or something."
"He isn't," Lois said. "When was this?"
"A couple of weeks ago, I guess. After he saw the treasure hunters, I think. What's this about, anyway?"
Maisie set two cups of steaming coffee on the table along with a little bowl of containers of half-and-half, and packets of artificial creamer. "Here you go. Have you decided?"
Lois nodded. "I'll have the bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich with fries. Charlie?"
Clark ordered the steak sandwich, virtuously limiting his side dishes to the soup and fries. Maisie picked up the menus with a smile. "It will only be a few minutes."
Rachel waited until she had walked away. "What's going on, anyway?" she asked. "If Clark didn't send those survey guys, who did?"
"We're not sure," Lois said. "There have been some rumors that some criminal group is trying to find a way to attack Superman."
Rachel's eyes narrowed. "That's not all there is to it, is it?" she asked suddenly. "You wouldn't be here if it was. Why did you think someone might have been on the Kent farm?"
Lois hesitated, glancing at Clark. Rachel was too bright for their good, he thought, but then, she always had been pretty smart. "Do you remember what happened at the Mayoral Debate, when Mayor White's opponent exposed Kent as Superman?" he asked, in his best Charlie King voice, with the trace of Brooklyn accent that he had adopted with the identity.
Rachel nodded, and then her eyes widened. "You mean, when he used that green rock on Clark?" she asked.
"Yeah," Lois said.
"But what does it have to do with someone hunting around the Kent property? You think they were looking for more of that green stuff?"
"We think so," Lois said. "Like I said, we've heard rumors that there's a criminal organization moving into Metropolis and that they're looking for a way to neutralize Superman. I can't go into everything that happened, but we have good reason to suspect that they've been snooping around his old home, trying to find out what they could, and possibly find more of the green rocks. Charlie and I are trying to help Clark figure out what's going on."
Rachel nodded. "Well, I'd think the person to talk to would be Wayne Irig," she said. "Do you need directions to his place?"
"Clark drew us a map," Lois said, "but you could point us to the nearest place to rent a car."
"That's easy," Rachel said. "Two blocks down from here. Barclay's Car Rental." She hesitated. "If I can help any other way, let me know, would you? Clark and I were sort of casual friends in high school. I always thought he had a kind of raw deal -- but don't tell him I said so."
"I won't," Lois said. "Thanks"
**********
Lois vaguely recalled the country around the Kent farm but she had only seen it once, and then from the air. She and Clark had been here nearly a year ago on a mission to locate and remove every green-glowing crystal that they could find in the area. Clark had floated high above Shuster's Field and scanned the countryside for miles around, looking for the deadly stuff. When he'd located it, he'd flown Lois to within fifty feet of it and then hovered directly above the spot so that she could find it, dig it up and place it in a lead-lined bag. There hadn't been many, but fourteen pieces in the wrong hands would have been more than enough to kill Superman. When they had been as sure as it was possible to be that they had found all of it, Lois had wrapped the pieces in the lead foil supplied by Dr. Klein and Clark had hurled them into space hard enough to be certain that they would escape the Earth's gravity field and continue on out of the Solar System, never to return.
The car slowed as Clark turned onto the dirt road that led to Wayne Irig's small farm. A few chickens wandering around the snowy yard were pecking at the snow and withered brown grass in search of who knew what, Lois thought. There weren't likely to be any bugs or ants in this temperature, but they were evidently finding something, for they continued to peck as Clark pulled the car into the area of packed dirt in front of the old farmhouse and cut the engine. As she opened the passenger door and got out of the car, the door of the farmhouse opened and a short, thin man, probably in his late fifties, Lois thought, stepped out onto the broad, wooden porch.
"That's Wayne Irig," Clark said in a low voice.
"Will he recognize you, do you think?" Lois asked, softly.
"I don't think so," Clark said, as he got out of the car. "The last time he actually saw me was over two years ago. We've spoken on the phone a few times since, but that's all." He shut his door and together they approached the big porch. Lois noted the two-seater swing that dangled from the porch roof seemed the best kept up part of the structure. Wayne Irig stood waiting, looking back and forth from one to the other as they mounted the peeling wooden steps.
"Mr. Irig?" Lois asked.
"I'm Wayne Irig," he said. "Can I help you?"
"Maybe. I hope so." Lois gave him her best smile. "We're looking for some information."
"If it's about the Kent house again," Irig said, "I told the other people that it's not for sale, as far as I know. You'll have to talk to the owner."
"Other people?" Lois and Clark looked at each other, and then Lois turned back to Irig. It sounded as if they might have hit pay dirt. "It's kind of about the Kent house, but --" She stopped. This wasn't the time to get distracted. "We're hoping you can help us. I'm Lois Lane -- Clark's partner at the Daily Planet, in Metropolis. This is Charlie King. He sometimes works with us." She produced her press pass.
Irig squinted at her and then at the identification. "Yeah, I've seen your picture in the paper. Weren't you the reporter that Clark rescued from some island in the South Pacific last year?"
"That's me," Lois said. "I'm surprised you remember."
A dry smile stretched the farmer's lips. "I've followed Clark's career," he said. "The tabloids are always makin' up stuff about him and this woman or that woman." He snorted. "Gossipmongers!"
"What do you mean?" Lois asked.
"Clark never was a skirt chaser," Irig said. "Lonesome. Lost his parents too young, but he was a good kid. When he got to be Superman and the tabloids started printin' that stuff about him and women, I knew they couldn't find any dirt to spread around so they were makin' it up. But then I started seein' his name with yours in the paper, so I took note. He made you his representative. I remember now. Smartest move he ever made. Got the press off his back."
Lois almost laughed. Wayne Irig was definitely a no-nonsense sort of man. "Yes, he did. And right now, Charlie and I are trying to help him. We need to find out --"
"Look," Irig said, "It's freezin' out here. Come on into the house and have some coffee while we talk." As he spoke, he opened the door and waved them through.
A woman of about the same age as Wayne Irig was standing in the entryway. She looked questioningly at Lois and Clark.
Irig closed the door. "Nettie, these are Lois Lane and Charlie King, from Metropolis. Friends of Clark's." He added to Lois and Clark, "My wife, Nettie. Come on into the living room. This way."
"Would you like some coffee?" Nettie asked. "It's pretty chilly out."
"That would be nice," Clark said.
"I'll bring it," she said. "Make yourselves at home."
Lois and Clark followed Wayne Irig into a small, cozy living room. A two-foot Christmas tree glittered on a table and the room was strung with garlands of pine and holly. Irig gestured them to chairs and took his place in a heavy wooden rocking chair. The padded cushions on the back and seat had obviously been embroidered by hand, Lois thought. Sort of like the throw cushions that Clark kept on his sofa.
"So," Irig said, getting right down to business, "you said this was about the Kent house?"
"Kind of." Lois had appointed herself spokesman. The less talking Clark did around Wayne Irig, the safer it would probably be. "Mr. Irig, Rachel Harris said you were the person to talk to. She said you saw some strangers on the Kent property. Do you know who they were?"
Irig rubbed his chin with one finger. "I don't know, exactly," he said. "A couple of months ago, I happened to be drivin' by the place after dark and noticed lights --"
"In the house?"
He shook his head slowly. "No; not in the house. In the wheat field. People walkin' around with flashlights, and some kinda equipment. There was one guy with a metal detector. At least, that's what it looked like from a distance."
"What did you do?"
Nettie entered at that point with a coffeepot and cups. She distributed the cups to her husband and guests and set a tray bearing cream and sugar on the coffee table. Lois poured two teaspoons of sugar into her cup and followed it with a generous helping of cream.
Wayne Irig took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. "Wasn't much I could do," he said in answer to her question. "I drove home and called the sheriff, but by the time she got there they were gone. Rachel figured they were just treasure hunters. I wasn't so sure, but I didn't see 'em again."
"What about the 'other people' that asked about the Kent property?" Lois asked. "Someone wanted to buy it?"
"I guess it was about a month ago," Irig said. "These people came by. Two women. Said they were representin' somebody that was thinkin' of buyin' hereabouts, and wanted to look the place over. Somebody in town had told 'em I looked after the land for Clark. I told 'em I didn't have no authority to take 'em onto the property, and that they'd have to talk to him."
"Do you remember what they looked like?" Clark interjected.
Irig frowned, obviously trying hard to recall. Finally he shook his head. "One of 'em was a tall, skinny blond gal," he said. "Dressed kinda flashy. Looked like a good stiff breeze would blow her away. Don't remember the other one in particular. Mighta had brown hair." He leaned forward, clasping his hands on his knee. "What's goin' on?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Lois said. "Somebody's out to get Superman. That's all we know. Possibly some organized criminal group. We think they're looking for some way to harm him."
"By lookin' around his old home?" Irig asked.
"Sort of."
Irig scratched an eyebrow. "'S far as I know, the only thing that can hurt Superman is that green rock that guy used on him back when we first found out about him," he said. "It disappeared, didn't it?"
"Yes," Lois said uncomfortably. "We think they're looking for more. Sheriff Harris said there was a survey crew here?"
"Yeah. A couple of weeks ago." Irig frowned. "They showed up with some legal papers. Said they were supposed to survey the property. They were around a couple of days, and that was it."
"Legal papers?" Lois asked. "What kind of legal papers? Did you see them?"
"Sure." The farmer nodded vigorously. "I was drivin' to town and saw all the men and equipment out there. I went over to ask 'em what they were doin' and the man in charge, I guess he was, showed me a bunch of legal-lookin' stuff, about takin' a survey of the property for the county or somethin'. I figured those gals might have got hold of Clark and maybe he was gonna sell the place. Didn't hear anything more about it, though, after that."
"Clark didn't know about it," Lois said. "Whoever they were, he didn't send them. Do you remember the man you talked to? Did he tell you his name or anything?"
"Sure," Wayne Irig said. "He was a short guy, had kinda broad shoulders and white hair. Had a sorta funny name. Gene somethin'."
"Do you remember what it was?" Lois held her breath.
"Let me think," Irig said. He rubbed his chin, scowling deeply. "Newton? Newrich? Somethin' like that ..." He snapped his fingers suddenly. "I got it. Newtrich! His name was Gene Newtrich!"
**********
tbc
