Disclaimer: see Prologue.
CHAPTER 3: The Secret in the Eyes
Chloe had never experienced such a degree of hostility coming from a complete stranger. She was fuming, but the only thing she wanted to do was put as much distance between herself and the bald billionaire as she could. It had taken her a fraction of a second to match the name Lex on Lana´s lips with the infamous surname of Luthor. How could she have not recognised the almighty Lionel´s first born when their paths had crossed for the first time? Either her inborn intuition was getting rusty or she had been turned to mush by the attractive billionaire.
Chloe walked along Main St. making an effort to calm down. On entering The Talon she had perceived his presence even before her eyes had registered him. There weren´t many bald-headed patrician-looking guys in Smallville, and those blue-grey eyes of his were far from forgettable.
Chloe chided herself for being such a fool. She had actually considered coming over and saying ´ Hi! ´ - for crying out loud! – despite the rudeness of the previous day, only to stand still when she had read that fleeting look of hatred in his eyes again.
She was frustrated. What the hell had she done to deserve his spite considering she had never set eyes on him before? She strode on at a fast pace, the wind blowing in her eyes and she started to feel the pricking of tears in them. Breathless and with clouded eyes she almost collided with a middle-aged woman who was coming her way. Almost immediately, Chloe recognised in her the red-haired she had seen conversing with Lana at The Talon on her first day in Smallville.
¨Good morning, Chloe, ¨said the older woman. ¨Welcome back to Smallville. ¨
¨Thank you, ¨responded Chloe with a rising intonation in the hope that she´d volunteer her name.
¨Excuse my manners, honey. I´m Nell Potter, Lana Lang´s aunt. You know my niece, don´t you? I´ve seen you at The Talon. ¨
¨Right. Well... pleased to meet you, Miss Potter, ¨ said Chloe, shaking her hand.
¨Is everything to your liking? ¨
¨Pardon? ¨
¨At the house? I didn´t know you were coming. If I had, I would have stocked your larder. ¨
¨Oh, sorry! My dad´s lawyer told me somebody had been taking care of the house, but he didn´t mention your name. Thanks for everything you´ve done. ¨
¨It was the least I could do for Moira. I´ve heard somewhere that you don´t remember her. Is that true? ¨
¨That´s right. I can´t remember the first five years of my life. ¨
¨Nothing whatsoever? ¨ asked Nell in surprise.
Chloe felt like snapping ´What the hell do you care? ´, but it would have been downright rude; particularly when the woman had been so kind as to keep the house in pristine condition for the last twenty-five years.
¨No, nothing at all, ¨responded Chloe, keeping the previous night incident in the kitchen to herself. She didn´t want to share any information until she understood the reason for her fears.
¨How long are you staying? ¨the red-haired kept prodding.
The conversation was turning into an interrogation and Chloe had to bite her lip in order not to retort.
¨I´m not sure. Maybe I´ll stay for a while until I decide what to do with the house. ¨
¨I understand. It must be difficult to live in that house considering... ¨
Chloe frowned. It was the second time somebody had dropped hint about the house. Remembering her panic attack, she decided she couldn´t let the opportunity to get some answers slip away.
¨Considering what? ¨
Nell hesitated for the first time since she started her interrogation. Chloe could see the older woman was weighing up the pros and cons of giving her a response. Finally, she looked into Chloe´s eyes and dropped the bombshell.
¨Considering your mum was murdered there. ¨
¨Your mum was murdered there. ¨ The words resonated in her mind as Chloe sped up and resisted the urge to take the interstate and go back home.
Was home actually Gotham? She was no longer certain. Everything that she had considered solid and safe in her life was now shaky. Nothing had prepared her for what she had just learnt. Mrs Kent had told her her mother´s death had surprised the inhabitants of Smallville, but Chloe had thought at the time that Clark´s mum had meant something completely different. When Chloe had come to Smallville looking for answers she believed her mother´s death was remembered by the town because it had been untimely, not violent.
Now she understood the curious glances that were shot her way and the strange reactions she had come across during those two days. Her mother´s murder must have been a tremendous shock for the quiet population. No wonder her presence there had come as a complete surprise. Still, she couldn´t explain the hatred she had seen in Lex Luthor´s eyes.
Despite the momentous news, Chloe was determined to persevere. She couldn´t leave now, not when she was close to discovering the truth. Somebody had killed her mum and she had no recollection. The only things that she had kept from the past were her childhood nightmares and her incapacity to trust other people. She had to know why.
Chloe consulted the map and took another turn left, parking her beetle in front of Smallville´s Public Library. No better place to start an investigation than the archives of the local library.
She climbed up the front steps and opened the heavy wooden door. The building was small compared to Gotham´s Public Library but it smelt just the same. In spite of her penchant for computers, browsers and search engines, there was nothing like the smell of old books to the investigative Chloe.
¨Good morning, how can I help you? ¨ asked a smiling librarian in her early twenties.
¨I´m doing some research, ¨ said Chloe, relieved to find a friendly face which was too young to remember the murder case. ¨I wonder if you could provide me with old issues of the local newspaper. ¨
¨Certainly. All the issues of The Ledger are on microfilm. Which ones are you interested in? ¨
¨I´d like to consult those of twenty to twenty-five years ago. ¨
¨Wow! Those are a lot of newspapers. ¨
¨It´s a comprehensive research. ¨
¨I bet. OK. Here are the microfilms. Do you know how to operate the machine? ¨
¨Yes, thanks, ¨ answered Chloe, grabbing the rolls.
¨We don´t close for lunch so you´re welcome to stay. We shut at seven. ¨
¨Thanks again, ¨ smiled the young reporter.
¨You´re welcome. ¨
Three hours had gone by without any breakthrough, and Chloe was ready to call it a day, when- suddenly- she came across a front page headline that read: ´Smallville´s Community Shocked: Young Woman Brutally Murdered at Home ´
Chloe studied the photo of a blond twentysomething woman that looked a lot like her now. It was the first time she saw a picture of her mum; Gabe had either burnt or stashed her photos away. Once she overcame the initial shock, Chloe started to read the article. Moira had been a reporter just like her and had moved from Maine to Smallville when she married Gabriel Sullivan. The couple and their little girl Chloe had made their home in a house Moira had inherited from her grandmother. The report on the murder wasn´t detailed but shocking. Moira had been hit several times on her head with a blunt instrument on the night of August 13th. Sherriff Ethan... had discovered her body lying on the kitchen floor. The small child was also found in the house, unharmed. The girl had apparently witnessed the murder but, after several attempts at interrogation, the police and the DA had come empty-handed.
Chloe felt a bitter taste in her mouth and the urge to empty her stomach. It was at that moment she realised the panic attack in the kitchen had to do with her mother´s murder and with the fact the she had been in the house when her mum had met her violent death.
Had the panic attack been triggered by a repressed memory? Had she been a material witness? Or was her fear a result of the trauma of losing her mum under violent circumstances? There were still a lot of questions to be answered and she didn´t know the killer´s identity yet.
She kept browsing the following microfilms and read several articles on the inquest, until she came across one in particular which rendered her speechless; ´Renowned Member of Metropolis Society Suspected of Local Reporter´s Death´. The photograph that accompanied the report featured a beautiful patrician brunette. Chloe traced her features on the screen with trembling fingers. Although it was the picture of a woman, she would have recognised those eyes anywhere- they were the eyes of the man who had looked at her twice in hatred. The resemblance was unmistakable.
Stunned, Chloe kept on reading. Her name was Lillian Luthor. According to the newspaper the lady had been seen leaving the Sullivans´ two hours prior to the discovery of the body, making her the last person to see Moira Sullivan alive.
Chloe searched a new microfilm. The references to the crime stopped two days later when an article was printed asserting that the person who had claimed to have seen Mrs Luthor that day changed her statement, saying that she had actually seen her the day before the crime. Lacking both the murder weapon and the testimony of a witness to place Mrs Luthor at the scene of the crime, the DA decided not to prosecute the billionaire´s wife.
Chloe printed all the information she had found in The Ledger back issues, grabbed the microfilms and strode to the desk.
¨Have you found what you were looking for? ¨asked the librarian.¨ Are you feeling all right? ¨
¨Yes, I´m fine, thanks. You´ve been very helpful, ¨she responded, handing the microfilms over to the girl. ¨Do you know where the Luthors live? ¨she asked with a tremor in her voice.
¨The Luthors? Well, at Luthor Mansion, of course. It´s an imposing eighteenth century castle. Here, let me draw you a map.¨
Chloe took the diagram, put it away in her bag and, thanking the girl, left the library. Once outside, she stood still for ten minutes solid admiring the well-trimmed lawns and the colourful flowerbeds of the square across the street. There were children playing in the swings and sliding down the chute. Everything looked normal, but her world was upside down.
The truth of the matter was that little by little she was unravelling the mystery. However, the ore she got to know, the more restless she felt. She couldn´t help but remember her encounter with Lex Luthor on the road. He had recognised her as the girl who had apparently witnessed the murder of which his mother had been suspected.
The blonde walked to her car, got in and, retrieving the map with the directions, made up her mind- she would seek him out.
A quarter of an hour later she located the castle ten miles away from the town centre. She parked her red Beetle near the black wrought-iron gates and switched off the engine. There was a sentry post at the entrance, and Chloe realised she would have to come up with a plan to get through the gates. In fact, she was aware that the moment the sentry informed Lex Luthor she was there, her chances of meeting him would die on the spot.
Suddenly, the gates opened and a slick silver Porsche made its way through. The Luthor heir was behind the wheel and, as soon as he recognised Chloe´s vehicle, he stopped his car, stepped out and strode purposefully towards the blonde reporter. Once he covered the distance between them, he knocked on the window for her to wind it down, and he spat coldly: ¨What is it that you want, Miss Sullivan? Why have you come back to Smallville after all these years? ¨
Lex was at his breaking point. Their two previous encounters might have been a coincidence, but this time he was sure she had made the conscious decision to see him again. Crossing paths with the attractive woman three times in less than twenty-four hours was more than he could bear. He was determined to uncover the reason behind her comeback.
Chloe wasn´t daunted by his intimidating attitude. She had never been a weakling- at least not in her waking hours. Lex admired her for there were few people who could hold his gaze without flinching. Although he would never hurt her, he wondered what she actually remembered about that fatal night. The sheriff and the DA had tried to get her to talk about what she had seen when she was just a five-year-old girl, but not a word had come out of her mouth. The memories came rushing back. He had been eleven when everything happened and Chloe had been uprooted from Smallville by her father, leaving behind lots of unanswered questions and more hurt than she could ever imagine.
¨What are you doing here? ¨insisted Lex bitterly.
¨I´ve read the articles, ¨said Chloe swallowing the lump in her throat. ¨I saw your mother´s picture in the newspaper and... ¨
Lex was suddenly overwhelmed by anguish. Bearing the Luthor surname had always been a burden, and he had spent the whole of his adult life trying to change the perception people had of him because of his being Lionel´s son. Lillian had also suffered the consequences of being a Luthor by marriage. It didn´t matter that that woman had changed her statement, the people of Smallville had already passed judgement on Lillian; she was a Luthor and, therefore, capable of anything.
Lex straightened up, sick at the flashback and, taking a few steps back, he spoke again.
¨Lillian Luthor was my mother. She was a beautiful person, incapable of doing something so despicable and vicious. She was branded guilty by a town that couldn´t see beyond her surname. She had very few months left to live and this whole affair did nothing but sped up
her death, ¨ blurted Lex chokingly. ¨You, Chloe Sullivan, are the only one who knows who the real culprit is. ¨
And that said, he turned around, got in the Porsche and sped away.
What´s your impression on this new instalment?
