Linda opened her mouth, but closed it again. Clark watched helplessly as she paced. He looked to the sofa. His mother was gone. "There are... so many things..." Linda shook her head and closed her mouth again. She sat on the sofa, then stood again. "Okay, Clark, let me just..."
Clark had no choice but to let her just... whatever she wanted to do. But he really wished she'd get on with it. His mind was clearer now, but his body was still weak, yet restless, his skin crawling with the kryptonite that pulsed through his blood. Murray said it was only a minute amount, but apparently that was all it took.
Linda moved closer to the bed, then further away again, biting at her thumbnail. She glanced back at him, accusing. "Why do you have to be sick? I had this whole speech prepared, you know, and I can't give you word one with you laying there all pathetic." She crossed her arms and sat on the sofa again. "This sucks." She glanced up at him. "You suck, Clark."
She was silent. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to say something or not. His throat felt like sandpaper, anyhow. He opened his mouth and the only thing that came out was a rusty grunt.
Linda looked up again. "Huh?"
He tried again. He wanted to say he was sorry, that none of it was planned, that he wouldn't hurt her again, and that he really, really wanted a glass of water. But all he got out was "Uhhh..."
Linda held her hand up. "No. Don't even try it, Clark. It's only too obvious you two have slept together again. What I want to know is how you can possibly think that's okay."
He didn't, not really. He knew how it looked, but... How could he not? He needed her. She needed him. It didn't matter who they were. He could share this, too, if he could only speak. He glanced at the nightstand, trying to nod his head to the glass sitting there. It seemed so far away...
Linda followed his gaze. "Yes. It's after nine o'clock," she said, noticing the clock instead. "We've had seventeen hours of hell with you because you couldn't pick up a phone. And don't think I'm forgetting that either. Your mother was beside herself."
He closed his eyes. He should have called someone, maybe Murray that first night. He might be in better shape now. He'd just thought it would go away with sun and rest. It was pointless to explain that even if he could. He gave the water one last longing glance before looking at her again.
"I know what you're thinking," she said, nodding. She stood and moved closer to the bed. "You're thinking that I'm going to smack you around a little now that you can feel it."
He hadn't been thinking that. But now that she mentioned it... He winced as she came closer still.
"I won't." She put her hands up in front of her. "I've been seeing someone about my control issues and how they stem from my family having been picked off before my eyes. I realize that I have to accept that my cousin will make her own decisions and that I... do not need to be so personally involved in her personal process," she said, as if reciting it very reluctantly. "So... you could hurt her again. And I would just have to accept it because it has nothing to do with me or my relationship with her." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "But I don't want that to happen, Clark," she said opening her eyes. The last time we talked face to face, in your loft, you said you loved her. I... I believe you, Clark. In your stupid, messed up way, you love her and every stupid thing you've done these last months is because of that, but..." Linda ran a hand over her eyes. "This is really hard for me. Because I've watched her all these years, crying over you, then pretending it was all hunky dory. I just... I need to know, Clark. I need a promise. I need insurance."
He found himself surprised. So much of this time, he hadn't thought of her point of view. He only saw her as an angry harridan who'd swoop down if he made a false move. But she was Lois' only family. As over-protective as she could be, she had every right to be so. Now he really wanted to talk... and to Linda, of all people. He reached toward the water, but his hand stopped short of it. He dropped his arm, panting slightly.
"Damn it, Clark, can't you even look at me when I'm..."
"I think he's thirsty, Honey." Clark looked to the doorway, relieved to see his mother there, running a towell over her hair. Clark tried to rasp in the affirmative, but his mother was already coming forward, grasping the glass and perching on the bed. He sat up and let her bring the glass to his lips.
"Thank you," he rasped when his throat felt less like a tube of broken glass. "Linda, I want to..."
"Where's Lois?" They all turned to the doorway. Ollie stood there, holding a carrier full of coffee. "I was hoping she could describe the details of the investigation more fully."
"Oh, Ollie," Linda sighed. "Could you give her a minute? She's in the guest shower."
"No, she's not." Martha glanced at ollie, then Linda. "That was me. I didn't want to wake Clark so..." Martha shook her head. "Oh, Lois."
Clark sat up straighter, every muscle protesting. "She just left?" he growled.
"Calm down," his mother said, resting a hand on his arm. "Getting worked up will help nothing." She sat straighter. "We'll just call her cell and see where she is."
"Great idea," Linda said quickly. "Then I can beat the living..." Her words trailed off as she left the room. Everyone waited until they heard a loud. "Son of a b*tch!" from the kitchen. Linda appeared in the doorway, holding her purse in one hand and her cell in the other. "She took my keys."
******************************
Two hours earlier...
Lois moved the tiny sports car through the gate. As anxious as she was to get some fresh clothes, she didn't exactly relish the idea of being in the house again. This Helen Bryce knew where it was, knew how to hurt them, knew too much... Lois would even bet she'd been the one to tamper with the car. She moved toward her street, her eyes peeled for a curly head. She didn't know if this woman had got what she wanted, but she didn't want to stick around to find out. She passed the large truck parked on her street and pulled into the driveway. She got out hurriedly, not even looking around her. She'd get in, grab a few things, and get out. She started toward the front door, but felt herself hesitate.
Victor had found the stuff on the knob. He'd said he'd cleaned it of all traces, but she had to be sure. She pulled a tissue out of her purse before turning the key, then the knob. She quickly moved to the bathroom and flushed the thing down. She looked around then. The entire place was a shambles. If she wasn't nearly running for her life, she'd stop and give it a once over. But as it was...
She moved to the bedroom, taking her suitcase from the closet. She threw in pants, shirts, a warmer coat, toiletries, not stopping to even look at what she gathered. Anything was better than the clothes on her back. She moved to Clark's room next. She opened his drawers, looking for more clothes. He should have some warmer things, since he'd found this new aversion to cold. She grasped a few sweatshirts, some sweatpants, stopping only when she heard the clink of that bracelet again. She stopped, picking it up from the bottom of the drawer. In daylight, she could see it clearer. It was silver with a turquoise stone. She saw the lines again and, looking at it from the front, found them itching at the back of her mind again.
She wished Clark was here now. She could ask him and... She groaned and stuffed it into her pocket. Nothing was stopping her from asking him. Maybe it was his mother's. Maybe it was an heirloom. Maybe it was only right to make sure she brought it to his attention.
Deep down, though, she knew it wasn't any of that that had her stuffing it in her pocket. She... wanted it. On some level, she really wanted it. She felt the weight of it in her pocket, nearly seeing it glint for her.
Why did she want it? She didn't even like turquoise.
She pushed the thoughts away and moved to his closet. There would be something there he'd need. She saw it then. A bag at the bottom of the closet. She opened it, feeling like a snoop. A moment later, she closed the bag and grasped it to her. Suits. His Superman suits. If he got better, he'd need one... or two. To be honest, she wasn't sure what his laundry habits were. She stood, taking the bag whole, then picking up her suitcase. She moved toward the door. This was it. If she needed something else, she'd do without. She wasn't sure she'd come back here ever again. They could hire someone to pack up anything they...
She stopped in the doorway, seeing it right in front of her. She'd been so focused, when she'd pulled up, that she hadn't noticed the words emblazoned on the side of the large truck.
"E-Z-move," she breathed, her eyes widening. She saw Dodie on the opposite side of the street, watching the truck with a scowl. She turned toward Lois.
Lois closed her mouth and tried to school her expression into one of mild interest as she came out, dropping the bags on the stoop and pulling the door shut by the side, not touching the knob. She let it close behind her as she picked the bags up, moving to her own car. She opened the back, trying to throw a smile Dodie's way. Dodie didn't seem to notice. She was scowling at the truck again. Lois tossed the bags in the back and tried to walk so casually across the street. "Someone moving?" she asked as she got closer.
"Apparently," Dodie sneered.
The van seemed to be in front of Mitzi's house. That wasn't right. She glanced backward. If this moving company that technically didn't exist was here, then it was here to clean up something very specific... a missing couple. But... Bob and Mitzi? They were so... old. Lois tried to laugh. "They must have the wrong house." She glanced backward. She couldn't see Pammie's house from here, but if she was too late...
"Oh, no," Dodie said, her eyes hard. "I asked. Mitzi's definitely moving and..." Lois was surprised to see Dodie choke on her words slightly. "I can't believe she would do this to me."
It was awkward, but Lois forced her arm up, letting it rest on Dodie's shoulders. Dodie turned into her, suddenly sobbing. "I was there for Mitzi," she wailed, "always giving her the best advice, always helping her to better herself, and this is my thanks?" Dodie pulled away, sniffling. "She just leaves me?"
"There, there," Lois tried, keeping her eyes on the van. She saw one man to the side of it. He didn't look like any mover she'd seen. He looked too large, too muscular. Two other men exited the house with boxes. There wasn't a potbelly in sight. And they were most definitely moving Bob and Mitzi.
"I don't understand," Dodie was saying. "Last night, I came over to show her my loaf basket for Crafty Devils night..." She stopped, looking at Lois. "You didn't show, I noticed. Do you think our crafts aren't good enough for..."
"Oh, Dodie, I'm so sorry," she cut in. "My cousin made a surprise visit and it just flew clear out," she explained, hoping to keep Dodie talking. "But Mitzi? Wow. It's so unlike her. She's the heart of Crafty Devils... And you're the brains. of course," Lois added hurriedly at Dodie's mutinous look.
"Well..." Dodie sniffled and shook her head. "No one was more surprised than I was. She didn't answer her door. I called and she didn't answer that either and... Wait just a minute." Lois stood back as Dodie rushed forward. One man seemed to be attempting to shove several items down in a box near the opening in the trailer. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
The man looked up, but didn't say anything. He stood.
"You can't just crush that skillet into a box." She reached into the box and took a giant blackened pan. "That was handed down in Mitzi's family for over eighty years. she told me so herself. Her grandmother cooked for President Taft when he was passing through Kentucky back when..."
"Look. Lady." He was large. He looked capable of crushing Dodie into a spot on the asphalt. Lois found herself stepping forward as well. "I'm just doing my job, I don't need no..."
"Hey, Dodie." Lois stepped up to Dodie and grasped her arm. "Why don't you hold onto that? I remember I heard Mitzi say that she really wanted you to have it."
"What? But she didn't..."
"Sure, she did," Lois lied, surreptitiously pulling her cell phone from her pocket. She pointed to her house. The large man followed her finger as she dropped her cell into the box. "I remember it clearly," she said, as both sets of eyes turned back to her. "She was right on my lawn when she said that, if anyone should have her heirloom skillet, it should be you."
Dodie's lip trembled as Lois pulled her backward, away from the large man. "Did she really..."
Lois walked further, pulling Dodie with her. "Actually, she didn't, but I'm sure it was in there somewhere. But we have it now." Lois smiled. "Mitzi is sure to get in touch and tell you why this sudden move. Right?"
Dodies' eyes filled again. "First Jenny, now Mitzi." She looked heavenward. "It's as if no one truly appreciates me."
"Oh, no," Lois crooned. "I'm sure that's not true." She rolled her eyes as Dodie started crying on her again. She patted her back awkwardly and stared off. She saw... Pammie. She was walking with her youngest girl again. Of course, the minute she saw Lois and Dodie, she picked her daughter up and turned away, moving out of sight. Lois wished she could go after her, but her hands were full with a miserable Dodie. But, now that she thought of it... Pammie was safe. That meant Mitzi and Bob were truly... She squeezed Dodie harder, her mind racing. Mitzi and Bob weren't too much older than Mike and Pammie, really. "I'm sure Mitzi appreciated you," Lois said, wishing the woman would dry up already. She needed to get answers, not mascara stains.
Dodie lifted her head and sniffled. "She better," Dodie said, wiping her eyes. "I saved her marriage, after all."
"I bet you did," Lois lied, just waiting to get back to the tower apartment. They could track the van now. They could find out where it went...
"If it weren't for me, Bob would have left her, as infertile as she was. But I told her what to do."
Lois turned back to Dodie, her interest suddenly piqued. "How's that?"
"Well..." Dodie stiffened. "It's common knowledge that Bob is sterile," she said, her chin raised.
"Yes?"
"Just how do you think that idea came about? Not naturally, I assure you."
"Dodie, did you..."
"Well, she was so sure he was going to leave her. He thought she was the problem and... Well, she was, really. But I told her. Just make sure he thinks it's him. He'd never leave then."
"So... Bob isn't sterile?"
"Oh, no. It's just Mitzi. She has an unhospitable womb. Poly-cystic ovarian..."
Lois ran to her own car. "Dodie, I have to go. I really... You know what?" She stood straighter and opened the driver's side door. "Just think what you want to. Bye."
*************************
"She took my keys."
Clark stared at Linda. "Didn't you hear her get out of bed? you have to watch her every second. She doesn't know what's..."
"You think I don't know that?" Linda screeched. "For your information, I know my cousin a lot better than you think you...
"Could you just call her?" Ollie cut in. "Just try that before you two rip each others' heads off."
"Fine," Linda growled. She punched some numbers on her phone, then slapped it to her ear so loud, it could be heard. "It's just ringing and..."
"Clark!"
Everyone turned. "Lois?" He tried to shout, but it was still just a weak rasp. She appeared in the doorway then. He wanted to get up, hug her, shake her, kiss the living daylights out of her... As it was, he could only lay there, trying to sit up straighter. "Where the hell have you..."
"I was wrong," she said quickly. "But all hope's not lost. We can still track them. We can still find them if we..."
"Lois!" Linda stepped to her and grasped her by the shoulders. "You stole my keys. You just waltzed off without telling anyone where you..."
"God, Linda, just calm down!" Linda stepped back, letting her go. Lois stepped forward. "Clark, I was wrong. Pammie's safe. It was never her. They got Mitzi, Clark. Mitzi and Bob."
******************************
Clark sat up straighter. "You mean they're the..."
"Who the heck are Mitzi and Bob?" Lois turned to Linda, hearing a mild ringing from the cell in her hand.
"Who are you calling?"
"Well, I was calling you, but..."
Lois grasped the phone and snapped it shut. "Don't do that yet. They'll hear it."
"Who's they?"
Lois turned to Clark with what he could only describe as a smug grin on her face. "I planted my phone with EZ-Move."
"What?"
"I went to the house to get a few things and..."
"Lois, why did you do that? We could have sent Bart or..."
"Well, excuse me if I didn't want Bart packing my underwear."
"Hey!" They turned to the doorway to see a yawning Bart. "I wouldn't have even looked... much."
She shook her head and turned back to Clark. "That's not the point, Clark. The truck was at Mitzi's. She's probably been gone since yesterday. They got rid of us and took her."
"But she doesn't fit their mold."
"Yes, she does. Bob's sterility was all a big lie. Apparently, Mitzi was encouraged to say that to save their marriage. Dodie seemed to think he'd leave her if she couldn't have children and... God, this is all my fault." Lois sank onto the bed.
Clark grasped her hand. "Don't say that."
"It is, Clark. I could have talked to Dodie more, but I just didn't like her, so I didn't. And Mitzi tried to talk to me twice and I brushed her off because she was annoying. I mean, I was as snotty as anyone in there when I could have..."
"What about me? I hardly did a thing. I was always so distracted with other..."
"Well, you're Superman," Lois cut in, squeezing his hand back. "Of course you had other things to do. But I was..."
"None of this is helping," Ollie cut in. "You can beat yourselves up later. Now, we have to move." He stepped forward. "Lois, you said you planted your phone..."
"Yes. I managed to drop it in a box they were packing. If we can find it, then we know where that truck is going and..."
"Victor can do that easily." Ollie shook his head. "But we need more info. We can't just go in there without knowing what's what. Besides that, we should wait till the truck gets where it's going."
Lois stood. "Then I guess we should have a meeting."
Ollie nodded. "I'll call the others back."
********************************
"I don't get it," Diana said. Lois was rather relieved that she was wearing actual clothes. For some reason, seeing her in that glorified bathing suit made her feel... inadequate. And short. But she supposed that last couldn't be helped. "Are we sure that Helen Bryce is connected to these couples? I mean, we know what she did to Clark and where, but they could be unrelated..."
"They aren't," Clark said, sitting up on the couch. Lois thought he looked strained. She wanted to go to him, prop him up, maybe kiss him silly because he seemed just a little better, but... She felt held to her own place, standing against the wall. She felt strange now. Ever since he'd said that name, referred to her by that name, she'd felt almost resentful. It was an emotion that had no place in these desperate times, but there it was, eating her up. "She said we should leave now. She wouldn't be so invested in us leaving Met Vista if she didn't have a stake in what's going on." He sat back, looking winded. "Find where the truck went and we'll find her. I'm sure of it."
"Well, we can wait another hour," Ollie said, looking as if he'd like to do anything but. "Then we can call the phone and track the signal." He glanced at Bart. "If Victor pinpoints the location, you can go ahead and check it out. We can be behind in..."
"No." Lois was surprised to see Clark trying to stand. His mother placed a hand on his arm and he settled back again. "Bart can't just go alone," Clark went on. "We don't know what he'll find waiting for him and..."
"Dude, Boyscout," Bart cut in with a wave of his hand. "With all due respect, I've done this kind of thing before and..."
"And I had to leave training to pull your ass out of an avalanche," Clark nearly yelled. "Just in case you forgot."
Ollie sighed and leaned against the post at the base of the steps. "And what do you suggest? We don't have anyone who can travel near Bart's speed, especially with you out of commission."
"What if I wasn't out of commission?"
Murray stepped forward. "Clark, I can neutralize what the spores do, but the kryptonite is still in your bloodstream and there's no way..."
"There is a way."
Lois started slightly. He was staring at her.
"Besides that, we should wait for nightfall," he went on, his eyes still on her. She held his stare, but he turned away, his eyes hard. "I need a lift to Smallville."
Previous Chapter
Chapter Twenty-Seven
No comments:
Post a Comment