Double Down (Lois Lane)

by Gwenda Bond

  “Dad?” James said. “That’s the man I believed in, growing up.”

  The ex-mayor lifted his fingers to his lips, shushing us again. But he was bending our way. I didn’t want to break him—I wanted to push him, make him bend far enough, like a tree in the wind that then snapped back. I wanted him to stand tall.

  I thought he wanted the same thing, underneath his denials. Otherwise, why not destroy whatever evidence he’d amassed in the first place? He might have convinced himself it was an insurance policy only, something to give him leverage should he need it, one final card to play. It was, but not the way he thought.

  A man like James’s dad—a former reporter for the Harvard Crimson, no matter how long ago that was—didn’t keep evidence like that unless someday, somehow, he thought he might finally use it. Finding out about the clone and the threat of returning to jail had scared him, made him almost toss away that last chance. I agreed to his request to be quiet, taking the pen again and writing another question for him. The question.

  Did you tell them where it is?

  He stared at me for a long moment, then he shook his head. He mouthed an answer to me and James. Not yet.

  I released a long breath. I could work with that. He was weakening. I could feel it. He wanted James to be proud of him, but also to protect his family. We had to make him see that rolling over and exposing his soft belly to the bad guys meant he’d never be able to.

  Not ever. But this is perfect, I wrote. Now you just need to tell us where it is. Where did you hide it?

  James stepped in front of his dad, forcing the older man to look at him. He whispered, “Dad, put your faith in me. We can do this.” He paused, and then said, “You deserve this. You deserve for people to know the truth. For us, and for you.”

  The ex-mayor was still torn, and he didn’t want to put his family in danger. That much was plain. But I saw the moment he decided to give in, that he bent far enough to snap back. To hope. To believe in the possibility of who he was, underneath the lies that had been attached to his name.

  James meant that his father deserved for people to know the truth about him, that he was a good man.

  The ex-mayor’s spine straightened. He stood tall.

  I underlined my question about where the evidence was and held up the pad again. He started to reach out for the pad and pen, but then dropped his hands, hesitation returning.

  James had a bit of a temper, could be pushed into a rash response. Maybe his dad did too. So I flipped the page and scribbled ridiculous options for where the evidence might be: What, did you bury it in the back garden? In the mayor’s office?

  He shook his head at first, but flinched.

  Flinched as if I’d hit home. “Are you kidding?” I whispered.

  But I could tell by the stricken look on his face: He obviously wasn’t.

  He reached out and took the notepad from me, and he wrote something. He held it against his chest, hesitating one final time. Then he showed us what he’d written.

  In the ceiling above my desk. It was the safest place.

  Triumph flooded me… for a few seconds, before the urge to strangle him returned. I laughed quietly. Nothing was ever easy.

  I held my hands out and took the pad. I wrote: Great! Why couldn’t you have put it somewhere harder to get to? I paused and added: Yes, I’m being sarcastic.

  He hadn’t told them it was there. And he was right. They’d never guess.

  I wrote one more sentence: We’ll talk tomorrow. We’re going to make this right.

  James’s dad picked up his drink, and it was a clear sign we were dismissed.

  Which was fine with me. I had somewhere else to go, someone else to see. We were finally making progress, and we’d have to move fast from here on out. The story train was leaving the station.

  Ticking my head to the side, I waved for James to walk me out. In the garden, he said, “There’s no way we’ll be able to get into Ellis’s office.”

  “We will,” I said. “I’m not worried about that.”

  Not as my first-tier worry, anyway.

  “What’s your plan?” he asked. “Pretend you’re doing an article on Mayor Ellis? It won’t work. Trust me, he’ll be a lot harder to get access to than my dad.”

  “I’ll get Devin to look over the City Hall plans. That part should be relatively easy. Maybe.”

  James huffed. “Which part won’t? Dad told them he would provide the location of the evidence in exchange for them permanently deactivating—that’s the word Moxie used—the clone thing. They didn’t like having to give anything up, and there were some definite veiled threats exchanged. They were only willing to discuss that if Dad gives them the evidence. I’m not sure what their next move will be.”

  “They’ll show your dad they mean business. We’re going to have to double down after his stunt tonight. We need to make them believe he’s changed his mind and is willing to give it to them. But on our timetable.”

  The clone’s suspicions had been correct. The fact that he liked being connected to Melody made things complicated. But the connection had to end regardless, for Melody’s sanity and so I could keep my promise to Maddy. In addition to retrieving the evidence tomorrow, we’d have to figure out how to separate the double and Melody permanently and then manage to do it before we exposed Boss Moxie.

  I suspected the double himself—despite his protests—was our best hope. He understood what a lack of freedom was like, obviously knew what the cure was, and he seemed to care about Melody. But was I giving him too human a psychology? Probably. It was a gamble as an approach to the problem.

  Still, none of that was the biggest obstacle in front of me at the moment.

  “And you’re not worried about that?” James asked. “Doubling down?”

  “No, I’m worried about the worst thing this means. It’s time for me to talk to Perry,” I said. “We’ll need his help.”

  James was quiet. We’d reached the heavy back gate, and he pulled it open for me. There was a face in the iron visible from this direction. It was solemn, with leaves and branches growing up and out, forming the rest of the gate itself.

  James latched the gate behind me, but I could see his face between the shapes illuminated by a streetlight.

  “You’re right,” he said, grim. “That is worse. Good luck.”

  “Text Devin for me, if you don’t mind, get him started on the building plans?” I asked.

  “Will do.”

  I crossed the sidewalk and climbed into the cab’s backseat. The cabbie said, “Home?”

  “Give me a second.”

  After digging out my phone, I sent SmallvilleGuy a message. He’d be waiting for word from me.

  SkepticGirl1: All is… not well. But the mobster is gone. Time to talk to my boss, tho. Perry.

  SmallvilleGuy: I’m on Bess and Nellie duty overnight, but I want to hear how it goes ASAP.

  SkepticGirl1: First thing in the a.m.?

  SmallvilleGuy: Definitely. But message if there’s an emergency.

  SkepticGirl1: You too. Anything from TheInventor?

  SmallvilleGuy: Not yet—imagine he’s hard at work.

  SkepticGirl1: K. Hug Nellie for me.

  “Ready?” the cabbie prompted.

  “One more second.” I scrolled through my contacts to Perry’s cell phone number. We were only supposed to use it in case of emergency. Like, “if you need to be bailed out of jail,” he’d said when he gave it to me.

  I hit it and called him. He answered on the second ring.

  “Lane?” he said. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” A pause. “Do you need to be bailed out of jail?”

  “Funny,” I said. “Not exactly. I need to tell you about the story I’ve really been working on.”

  Another pause stretched between us. “This can’t wait
until tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “I’m still at the office anyway,” he said. “Shoot.”

  This wasn’t a conversation to have over the phone. I’d already snuck out, so I might as well do all the business I needed to while I was on the lam. Lucky for me, all that quality time with Mom and Lucy meant less chance either would look in on me in my room, and Dad was gone. As far as I could tell, I was home free.

  “I’ll meet you at the Scoop in twenty minutes,” I said.

  CHAPTER 24

  I’d never been to the Daily Planet Building this late at night. But neither news nor the city slept. So while the building was less busy than during the bustling day and early evening hours, that didn’t mean it was deserted.

  The freckled desk guy was signing to accept an after-hours messenger delivery, probably headed up to the newsroom. He glanced up at the clock above the elevators when he saw me, but he waved me on by.

  The lower level where our office was housed was dead. It was dark enough that I had to hold my phone out in front of me and use the screen to light the way. Somehow it seemed fitting that I had to travel in darkness toward this certain doom.

  Perry would not be happy about what I had to tell him. To say the very, very least.

  Each step made me want to turn around, leave, chicken out, talk to him over the phone. Or send a nice, long email. So when the light in the Scoop office popped on as I approached, I made an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak of surprise.

  “Lane? You almost gave me a heart attack. You sound like a giant, dying mouse,” Perry said, appearing in the doorway. “I barely beat you here. You’re on time, though. Twenty minutes on the dot.”

  My phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked down at it, half-hoping it would show MOM on the screen and give me an excuse to run. Instead, it showed a new text from Maddy. It said: DO NOT TELL PERRY ABOUT MELODY.

  All caps. I frowned, and in the next second the phone rang, blaring the song Maddy had made her ringtone on my phone.

  “Lois?” Perry wasn’t the most patient man in the world.

  “I have to take this,” I said, with a sick feeling in my stomach. I had to tell Perry about Melody, didn’t I?

  I answered the phone and said, “Hang on,” then held it against my chest. “Can you give me a few minutes?” I asked Perry.

  “Don’t keep me waiting forever,” Perry said. “And whatever you have to tell me better be good. I’ll be in my office.”

  He meant the dank office cave in the back of the Scoop offices, where he occasionally came to work in quiet.

  I stepped back into the darkness of the hallway, out of earshot, in case he was motivated to eavesdrop.

  “Maddy?” I asked, lifting the receiver to my ear. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

  “Lois, you haven’t told him yet, right? I heard Perry’s voice. Is it too late?”

  “I’m just getting ready to talk to him.” I leaned against the wall, holding the receiver close. “How do you even know… Oh. James.”

  “He called me,” she confirmed. “You could have too, you know.”

  She was right. I could have, and I should have. It hadn’t even occurred to me, in the midst of my dread. I couldn’t even swear to her I would have before morning.

  “You’re right. I suck,” I said. “But don’t you think we have to tell him?”

  “No!” she said. “You told us that Melody’s DNA sample was the only one that had worked for this so far. If the world finds out about this, don’t you think her life will be—maybe not ruined, but it’ll be forever changed. Anyone who Googles her will find out about this. This stupid mistake she made. That she’s linked to this thing. They’ll study her.” Maddy paused. “She had another spell tonight. She woke up, thirty minutes ago, crying in her sleep.”

  When I’d been talking to the clone. When he reached out to her.

  “But how can I not tell him?” I asked.

  “Put me on video.”

  I switched over, holding the phone out so I could see her. Maddy’s face appeared in the narrow window. She’d been crying too, I saw. Her eyes were so red.

  “She’s my sister,” she said. “I can’t stand by and let you mess up her life. Perry probably won’t even believe the cloning part. Think about it. There’s another way.”

  Her face convinced me. I might not have seen the other way yet, but I wouldn’t betray my friend. And she was likely right about Perry not buying the cloning stuff, not easily.

  More than that, I understood. We protect the people we care about when we can, especially when they’ve done nothing wrong. It was like keeping SmallvilleGuy a secret. I did it because it was right to.

  I was the one who’d prodded Maddy to begin the process of forgiving Melody in the first place.

  I nodded, so she’d see I meant it. “Okay. But I need something to explain… him. You have an idea?”

  She released a sigh of relief. “A twin is a clone—but a natural one,” Maddy said, rushing through the explanation. “The double could just be a twin James’s dad didn’t know he had, as far as the rest of the world is concerned. The fingerprints, you said those could have been planted.”

  “That’s a lot more feasible,” I agreed. “We can come up with some story about how Moxie located this unknown twin brother and hired him.”

  “See, it might work,” she said.

  “It will work,” I said. “I’ll loop in James. We’ll have to come up with another way to deal with the scientist, though. Because he has to be stopped.”

  My mind rushed ahead. I could retrieve the lock picks when I got home. We’d have to go to the Ismenios building first thing in the morning, try to beat Donovan there, and convince the clone to help us disconnect Melody from him. Once her tie to the clone was broken, we’d have more leeway to handle the mad doctor.

  “You two be ready to meet me early in the morning. We’ll have to take a field trip to Suicide Slum before school. I know it’s quick, but it can’t wait. Everything’s moving now. Assuming I survive the next half hour.”

  “You will. And you promise, about Mel?” Maddy asked one last time.

  “I do so solemnly swear. If Perry kills me, it was nice knowing you. Make sure the Planet gives me a full obit.”

  “Thank you, Lois. For everything. You don’t suck. You’re… you’re my best friend.”

  There was a wet sting in my eyes suddenly. I was important to Maddy too. I was her best friend. “Back at you. Now stop with the mush. I’ll text you if I survive.”

  I hung up, sniffed to banish the threatening tears, and walked into the office. Passing my own desk and everyone else’s, computers dark, I went straight to the corner and into the hot seat across from Perry’s sometime-desk.

  “This must be good,” he said. “If it’s not, I’m going to be really disappointed.”

  No pressure or anything. “Good may not be the right word.”

  How could I tell the best reporter I knew, my own hero, that he’d been fooled? That the stories he was proudest of were phony?

  “It’s late and I’m waiting,” Perry said. “Give me the bad news, then.”

  “It’s not exactly bad news either.” The answer was clear. I had to say it straight out. I thought of what James had told his dad.

  It was time to be brave.

  We needed Perry. He was a key component of my plan to throw off the mobster and his henchmen, and then take them down. I was too much of a realist to see this unspooling in our favor otherwise.

  “I’m ready, Lane,” he said.

  No more shying away. The clock was ticking. “I’ve found evidence that suggests Mayor Worthington was set up by Boss Moxie. That he used—” I phrased it with care, per my promise to Maddy, “—an unknown twin brother of the mayor’s to fake most of the evidence that convinced you and the r
est of the world he was corrupt, because Mayor Worthington was planning to take Moxie down. And so Boss Moxie could get a more amenable politician—Mayor Ellis, who was in on the whole thing—into office and get richer and more powerful off this waterfront project. Among, no doubt, countless other unsavory things.” Like clones. But that had to go unsaid.

  Perry blinked twice, in rapid succession, but the rest of him was still. “What kind of evidence do you have?” he asked.

  I couldn’t interpret his tone. I’d never heard him use it before. It was… neutral.

  Giving me no hint how he was taking this.

  “The twin is here in town. I’ve seen him, and so have plenty of other people. You just missed him the other day—that was him at City Hall. That’s why people were whispering about seeing Mayor Worthington. But I—not to mention the police—confirmed that Mayor Worthington was at home at the time, and James was there with him. Moxie knows that James’s dad still has the evidence and wants him to know he can be sent away again if he becomes inconvenient. So they arranged for the twin to be spotted. A threat.”

  “Why not just take him out?” Perry asked. “Moxie’s done it before.”

  I’d wondered the same thing. “I don’t know. I think maybe Moxie has a love for the dramatic? And a mayor is different than another mobster. Even an ex-mayor.”

  Perry inhaled deeply, and then nodded. “And maybe they worried the wife would come forward with the evidence if they did that. He does still have it? I’m assuming he kept quiet about this fact because Moxie convinced him James and Leah were toast if he revealed it at the time.”

  This sounded an awful lot like he believed me.

  “Mr. White,” I said, and when he frowned at me, “Perry. Are you saying that you think I’m right? That this is the truth?”

  “Lane, you’re a good reporter. I’m assuming James has been helping you, giving you unprecedented access.” He paused. “But I’ll admit it’s that I had a feeling back then. You know the one, that some piece is missing. It was all too neat. The story, the tapes, everything, it fell into my lap. James’s dad never defended himself against the charges, even though I’ve never seen a politician more in love with his job or the city. And he was the only one who went down for it. In my experience, corruption hardly ever stops at one person. But that time it did. A twin would explain the tapes, eye witnesses who said he asked them to transfer funds, all of it.”