Double Down (Lois Lane)

by Gwenda Bond

  “I don’t like having to hold things back from you,” he said. “I can’t tell you the whole reason I’m so concerned about this stuff on the boards. And that bugs me. A lot. It’s not because I don’t trust you.”

  My traitor brain—and my traitor heart—might want to know his every secret. But it found this way more acceptable than the other explanations it had supplied.

  “I’d rather you just tell me that than disappear,” I told him. “It’ll be okay as long as we can talk. Promise me you’ll always show up so we can talk, and we’re good.”

  We stared into each other’s eyes and I didn’t know what was going to happen. Then he raised his chin. “Promise.”

  “Good. We’ll talk tomorrow then.”

  “Until tomorrow,” he said.

  I reached up to turn off my holoset. He rarely left before I did, waiting until I was gone before he switched his own set off. A little thing that held greater significance to me, but which I couldn’t be sure wasn’t a random or regular nicety on his part.

  You could ask. Ask whether you mean more to him than just a friend.

  And I would. Just not today.

  I sat on my bed returning to the real world for several long moments. I did need to think. I had to come up with some plan of attack for the giant story of giantness. A story growing so big in one short day that I could barely wrap my head around it.

  But I crossed to my laptop and navigated to Strange Skies first. SmallvilleGuy’s ominous prediction had come true. There had been a new message posted while we were in chat.

  Posted by Insider01 at 10:05 p.m.: The flying man will be sighted tomorrow night outside Medford, Oklahoma, at 3:30 a.m. UCT, or 9:30 p.m. local time. The coordinates are as follows: 36º46’04.52” N, 97º41’05.20” W. Like the previous sighting, this will occur at the precise time and location noted. If you intend to be a witness, do not be late.

  CHAPTER 11

  I knocked at the door of study room C in the silent-as-a-tomb-or-temple library before first bell the next morning. Over the past couple of weeks, Maddy had gone out of her way to befriend the librarian. Now, she let her use this space whenever it was free and the school was open, whether we needed it for homework or reporting business.

  It came in handy.

  The door slivered and Maddy’s eye appeared at it. “Password?” she asked.

  Of course. Always, she liked a password. I never managed to recall it right away. She usually set it for the next time when we were leaving the room.

  “Still can’t remember,” I admitted.

  Maddy sighed. “Fine.”

  The door opened. She muttered, “It was Nellie Bly this time.”

  The other two of my fellow Scoopers were already in attendance, seated around the long study table.

  “You’ve called us all together here today for reasons which you will now reveal,” Devin said, deepening his voice. Maybe these were the booming tones he used when he was playing his King Devin, Ruler of Ye Olde Troy, character in Worlds War Three, and needed to command his griffin soldiers.

  “Does this mean you didn’t have any luck with the property list?” I asked.

  “Nothing in the public search, obviously,” he said. “But I’m working on something with a program I wrote to look, and we’ll know after school if it panned out. Cross your fingers.”

  I lifted my right hand and stagily crossed them. “Did anyone else have any bright ideas on how we tackle this?”

  James was sitting with his hands carefully folded in front of him. He said, “Does that mean you don’t?”

  I ignored him and turned to Maddy. “They brought you up to speed on where we were as of last night, I take it?”

  Maddy nodded thoughtfully. “I have many questions and concerns.”

  “Don’t we all.” I dropped my messenger bag onto the table and slid up to sit beside it. “First things first, if anyone wants out of the loop on this one, I understand. We’re talking about—at a minimum—tangling with a mobster who has in the past been accused of all types of unsavory things.” I’d done a little Boss Moxie research, and it seemed he was the model for a famously murderous movie role. Something that had been less than wonderful to discover. Unlike his movie version, he never got linked to anything directly enough to visit a jail cell or even be questioned. He was smart.

  Too smart to get caught, so the wisdom went.

  And yet I had to try, to press, to keep pushing to find some weakness, or he’d win. The disturbing truth I avoided dwelling on was that he might win anyway. I still had no idea why Mayor Worthington became his target in the first place, but big city mayors were powerful enough that might be all the explanation required.

  I went on. “And some associate of his named Dabney Donovan who took Melody’s DNA, but whose name also turns up nothing on a search. Along with another associate who looks a lot like James’s dad.”

  “About that,” Maddy said. “Can I see the picture?”

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the photo. Her eyes widened as she took in the uncanny resemblance.

  James rose out of his seat to peer over Maddy’s shoulder. “Still just as freaky as the first time.”

  “They must be identical.” Maddy squinted as if she could tease some answer out if she looked hard enough. Then, “But why would Melody be having mental flashes from a person who looks just like James’s dad? Have you figured that out?”

  This was the main thing I’d been rolling around and around and around the night before, the place I’d focused my thoughts and pushed and pushed and pushed trying to make a breakthrough.

  “So,” I said, “yes, I came up with a theory, which you probably won’t like. I think that the research, the harvesting of Melody’s blood sample, was used in some way with the doppelguy who looks like James’s dad, and it created a twin bond between them.”

  There was silence.

  “Come again,” James said, finally.

  “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but a few weeks ago we’d have thought an experiment creating a group consciousness using holoset tech was completely nuts too.” But that’s exactly what we’d uncovered by helping Anavi with her bullying problem.

  “You have a point there.” Devin’s hand went involuntarily to his ear, where he frequently had a holoset looped. Probably remembering the brief period when he’d been in danger of personality erasure via the Warheads himself.

  “I know,” I agreed. “It seems too convenient that suddenly there’s this guy who looks exactly like James’s dad showing up when it’ll create the most speculation—just as he’s released. He’s identical enough to be a twin. The way Mayor Worthington reacted when I asked him about Moxie, I think we can assume that if he was framed then Boss Moxie was involved. And we know that this Dabney Donovan character is a known associate of the Boss and has something to do with Ismenios. Maddy, can you check with Melody and see if she recognizes the name?”

  Maddy made a face. “As soon as I can get her alone where no one will see.”

  I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of Melody’s concerns.

  “Maybe I’ll do it.”

  “No,” Maddy said, fast. “I will.”

  I felt in danger of treading on sisterly toes, so I went on. “We also know the experiment Melody was involved in took place two years ago, which is awfully close to when the evidence against James’s dad turned up and he went to jail. It happened so speedily because he didn’t fight. At all. Which now makes slightly more sense.”

  “Where has this Ismenios guy been since then?” Devin asked.

  “Living out his days in splendor? Looking like some poor schlub who they decided to target?” I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. But I’m hoping you can find me an address, as you know, that might fit the profile of the last one.”

  “My dad’s not a schlub,” James said.r />
  “You know what I meant.”

  “Don’t forget that there were incriminating recordings and photos of Mayor Worthington back then,” Maddy said. “That was part of the case against him.”

  I nodded. “That’s more evidence for the link between all these different elements, even if the nature of the link itself isn’t clear. And so let’s just say that this blood sample was used in some way to make this guy better able to mimic James’s dad. And through whatever weirdo presto change-o process that was, it made this connection between him and Melody. A twin bond. Which we’ll need to break somehow.”

  Maddy was radiating skepticism, but it was Devin who spoke up. “Explain the twin bond thing.”

  I knew Maddy would be the toughest sell on this, so I turned toward her. “Everyone knows that twins have a special bond with each other. There are all these stories of, say, two sisters separated at birth who live in different cities, and then one of them has a heart attack or falls off a cliff or whatever—” Maddy’s eyebrows inched higher as I went on, but I didn’t let it stop me. “—and the other one senses it, knows something’s up without any physical contact whatsoever. They also tend to develop secret languages and just have this… connection. I think whatever this dirtbag scientist did made a more elaborate form of this happen between Melody and the guy who looks enough like James’s dad to fool everyone. He knew it was a risk, so he warned Melody about the side effects. He needed a twin because she was primed for it.”

  “Except,” Maddy said.

  “Yes?” I prodded, gently, when she didn’t continue.

  I’d never seen Maddy truly upset before, but she appeared to be getting there. Her face was tinted pink all over, not a blush but a flush, and her expression had a near-angry quality that reminded me to proceed with extreme caution.

  She still didn’t speak.

  “Except what?”

  “Except,” she said. “That’s not a real thing. It’s complete nonsense. There’s zero actual scientific evidence of any of this stuff and as Melody’s actual twin, I can tell you we do not have a special bond. Not of any kind. And the guy doesn’t look like Melody, he looks like Mayor Worthington.”

  “Oh-kay,” I said, scared I’d pushed too far. But I was equally scared that she’d be way more upset with me if her sister’s problem didn’t get resolved. “I hear you. But are you willing to be open to the idea that maybe some twins at some point in history had one? And that maybe that’s what’s happening here? It would explain Melody’s symptoms. Like I said, I think Melody’s DNA was used in some way to make him look right. If there’s something special about being a twin, maybe it can be copied. It’s a leap, I know, but it feels like the right one to me.”

  I expected pushback, and I waited and watched for its arrival. I didn’t dare look to Devin or James for support. I wanted Maddy to know her answer mattered to me. Hers alone, in this moment.

  Her T-shirt today was for a phony band named Worst Crush. I wanted to ask her if it was a reference to Dante and meant she was starting to like him back, or to her sadness over James’s continued fixation on her sister.

  I also wanted her to concede on my theory so we could move forward. And, obviously, to not hate me.

  “Unless we come up with a better idea to explain it… all right,” she said. “Working theory. But please note for the record I am extremely skeptical that twin bonds are a thing. Ever, in history or now.”

  Weak agreement, but I’d have to take it.

  “Good.” I finally looked away from her and to James. “Anything to report from your dad?”

  He must have been focusing on Maddy’s verdict as closely as I’d been, because he said, “What?”

  “Your dad—anything relevant last night after we took off?”

  James took a second to think over what I’d asked. “Paranoid. After you left, he combed through every room, silently, like he was looking for the bugs he’s sure are planted in the house. I tried to ask him questions, like you did, on paper, about the evidence or whether he had any way to prove his innocence and he…” His jaw tightened. “He burned the paper.”

  “We don’t need him cooperating more yet. It’s okay,” I said. “He must be afraid for you and your mom. I think you should hold on to the fact that he told you. He wants you to know the truth. Be patient.”

  I was telling someone to be patient? But James seemed to relax a bit.

  “To sum up,” Devin put in. “We’ve got an untouchable mobster mastermind, a missing lab to locate, some dude with a twin bond with Melody running around causing trouble, and a disgraced politician to unframe. No sweat, right?”

  I also had a government agency investigating the flying man on my agenda, but that was a completely separate matter. “No, I’m sweating.”

  The group did a double take, like it was choreographed. “You are?” Maddy asked, surprised.

  I wasn’t willing to put them on. The situation felt so… big. I wasn’t able to shrug that off. I was worried that I’d finally bumped into something too big for me to handle, even with help. That my place in the world was about to vanish in a puff of failure if I screwed this up, along with my friendship with Maddy.

  “What’s our next move?” James asked.

  “We’ll have to figure that out this afternoon. And hope Devin has some answers for us on properties that belong to Boss Moxie.”

  “Hope hard,” Devin said.

  “I am. Otherwise we may be walking around Suicide Slum looking for tags like the ones on our old building.”

  “Not ideal,” James said.

  “There’s another issue you didn’t mention,” Maddy said.

  “What’s that?” James asked.

  To my fascinated surprise, Maddy trained her eyes to the front. She didn’t immediately turn toward James like he was the sun she was starved for, like she usually did when he deigned to notice her.

  “Are you sure Mayor Worthington is innocent?” she asked.

  James said, “I asked myself the same question. Lois knows I did.”

  “I think he must be,” I said.

  “You’re sure?” Maddy asked again.

  I shrugged one shoulder. “As sure as I can be without uncovering the evidence that proves it. The rest of this doesn’t add up, and he says he’s innocent, so…”

  “It’s just, you know Perry did those stories,” Maddy said.

  My jaw dropped open. Oh god. She’s right.

  Perry and his Pulitzer-nominated stories. I had completely forgotten that he was the one who’d really taken James’s dad down. The authorities hadn’t had enough to go on until Perry started digging and publishing his findings. Crap.

  Maddy continued. “Have you read them? I did, last night, after James texted me. There were not just photographs of the mayor, there were recordings voice-analyzed by the FBI, fingerprints that matched those on file. Even identical twins don’t have the same fingerprints. There were also records of wire transfers. Extensive evidence. Really extensive. Perry never revealed his sources of info, either.”

  James had texted her? But I snagged on one other thing she’d said—well, besides Perry’s name and the fact I was engaged in actively planning to overturn his finest hour of reporting. “The fingerprints are hard to explain. Though I guess they could have been planted.”

  “Perry’s going to need more than we have to tell him,” Maddy said, “to believe any of this.”

  She was right. He deserved to know if he’d been tricked. But a vision of telling him all this in the Scoop offices materialized in my mind. He’d explode. And what if I was off base? I was a rookie, and even I suspected I was in over my head on this. I’d rather deal with something less dangerous first. Like a murderous mobster.

  “Let me handle Perry,” I told them. “I’ll wait until it’s the right time.”

  “No argument here,�
� Devin said.

  The others must have agreed too, since the brinnng of first bell interrupted no contrary opinions. Or maybe they sensed that the right time was a mirage, and we might never arrive there. In which case, Perry would never have to know and he’d never go nuclear reaction on us.

  CHAPTER 12

  I was the first to arrive at the Scoop office after school. Which was part of my plan for the day all along, and the reason I’d brought my laptop with me that morning.

  I tromped over to my desk and, without delay, opened my computer and joined the network. I logged in to chat. The entire process took less than a minute, even with the hassle of keying in the sixteen-character alphanumeric password.

  SmallvilleGuy showed up as “currently in chat,” and his first message popped up in seconds. A sense of relief flooded through me.

  SmallvilleGuy: Whew. I can’t stay long and I was afraid I’d miss you.

  We didn’t have any more leads, not unless—or until—we had a verdict on Devin’s mysterious “working on it.” I feared this was going to be a long, frustrating evening of beating our heads against the Morgue walls to figure out our next move. So the official reason I’d been so eager to log on was to check out SmallvilleGuy’s reaction to the latest Insider01 post, in case I didn’t get to chat with him until way later. But I had also wanted to test his promise. He’d said he wouldn’t go MIA again, and I was relieved by the proof: he was here. Now.

  SkepticGirl1: But you’re here, which… Thank you.

  SmallvilleGuy: And I come bearing gifts.

  SkepticGirl1: You shouldn’t have.

  SkepticGirl1: Now gimme.

  SmallvilleGuy: Nope. I’m saving it for the end. You know what they say: good things come to those who wait.

  SkepticGirl1: “They” are evil, and don’t understand that the pleasures of instant gratification trump the delayed kind. I hate waiting.

  SkepticGirl1: But I’m intrigued.

  Oh, this was nice. We were behaving like us again, us as a unit of quips and banter and, most of all, trust. It muted the in-over-my-head, gulping-for-air feeling I had with this ex-mayor/mobster/bad news situation.