PART THREE

The next day.

The Talon was packed. It was impossible to walk across the room without bumping into someone. Look in any direction, and you'd see a Smallville High jersey. The background noise, a combination of music, conversation, and laughter, grew louder by the minute. It was hardly the place to come if you were looking for a place to think.

Unless your name was Lex Luthor.

Lex sat alone at one of the coffee house's more secluded tables, barely aware of the activity around him, or the cup of coffee cooling at his elbow. His attention was focused on the screen of his laptop, and the article he'd downloaded from the Inquisitor's website earlier that day.

Lex picked up his cup and sipped the lukewarm coffee. A few reporters from the newspaper some thought little better than a tabloid seemed to be the only ones still interested in William Merrick's murder. While the case wasn't officially closed—and wouldn't be until someone was convicted of the crime—the investigation had been put on the back burner. After all, Merrick was only a temporary resident of Smallville. There were no grieving family members demanding the police find answers. No real leads to follow up on.

And the Ledger and Planet seemed to share the same theory. Merrick was a security consultant, a very dangerous business. What if he'd been killed by an enemy he made long before he came to Smallville? Made sense.

Even the unusual circumstances of Merrick's death had raised few eyebrows. In Smallville, people died under unusual circumstances all the time. William Merrick's decapitation was just one more oddity in a town where "odd" was almost normal.

Only the Inquisitor was interested enough to dig deeper. Of course, no one took what they'd 'uncovered' seriously. Still, it was an interesting read.

Lex rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, and pressed his fingertips to his temple. Sharp blue eyes read the words he'd already committed to memory. It seemed Merrick wasn't the first to be killed in such an unusual manner. Or the second. Or the twentieth. There were reports going back decades of headless corpses being found all over the world. In each case, the wound was cauterized, so there was little blood at the scene of the crime. And witnesses in the area often reported seeing some kind of strange, localized electric storm near where the bodies were found.

This fact made Lex's heart leap in his chest. He was convinced he'd witnessed such a storm himself. Since the night of Merrick's murder, his dreams were filled with visions of emerald lightening pouring out of the window of the Smallville High gymnasium. Stabbing at the sky.

According to the article, these killings had become something of an urban legend. There were countless theories surrounding them, each a little more far-fetched than the last. Conspiracies. Cults. Aliens.

Lex was intrigued by the fact that swords, often expensive antiques, were found near some of the bodies. Swords that had been used, blades covered with fresh blood that didn't belong to the victims.

No sword had been found near Merrick's corpse. Had the killer taken it? Disposed of it? Where was it now?

"Hi, Lex."

Startled, the young millionaire looked up to find Clark Kent standing in front of him. Always pleased to see his young friend, Lex smiled. Then, he remembered the information on his computer screen, and how Clark might react if he saw it. Especially since Chloe Sullivan was standing next to him.

"Hello, Clark," Lex said. He resisted the urge to immediately close the laptop. Not yet. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show today." He nodded towards the young reporter. "Miss Sullivan."

"Mr. Luthor," she said, nodding in return. Her smile was reserved. Cautious.

"Can we…?" Clark waved at the empty chairs.

"Of course. I could use the company." Smoothly, he folded down the screen of his laptop. "I've just about had my fill of expense reports."

"Hmmm," Chloe murmured as they sat down. "Kind of a weird place to work, isn't it? I wouldn't think you could concentrate with all of this noise."

"Well, I needed a break from the quiet of my office." He looked around the busy room. "And being surrounded by activity actually helps me focus on what I'm doing."

"Expense reports?" she said, with just a hint of skepticism. She glanced at the closed laptop with open curiosity. "Uh huh."

"So, Lex," Clark broke in, casting a warning glance in Chloe's direction. "It's actually good we ran into you. I was telling Chloe about your offer to teach her some self defense."

"Really?" One of Lex's eyebrows peaked. "Since I made the offer last week, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten."

"I almost did. But, when I told her about it yesterday, she said…"

"Maybe," the young woman interrupted. Which seemed to surprise Clark.

"What?" he exclaimed. An exasperated frown crinkled his brow. "I thought you said…"

"I'd think about it. Which I did. And, hey, learning self-defense from a millionaire would be a great story to tell the grandkids." Grinning suddenly, she glanced at Lex out of the corner of her eye. "Plus, I just gotta see what you look like in sweat pants."

Lex was surprised to hear himself chuckle. He often wore sweats around the mansion. Jeans too. But, for trips into town, he preferred the armor of tailored suits and slacks, silk shirts, shoes made by hand.

"Chloe," Clark sighed. He cast a pained look up at the ceiling.

"But," she continued, " I think it's only fair I give you the chance to back out, Mr. Luthor. After all, you really meant the offer for Clark. When he said I was the one who wanted the lessons, I'm guessing the offer sort of got extended to me in the heat of the moment."

"Perhaps." Lex conceded. "But I'm actually looking forward to it. My regular instructor had to take some time off for personal reasons. Teaching you will keep me in practice until he gets back."

"See?" Clark asked. "I told you Lex wouldn't change his mind."

"I guess you were right," she agreed. But her smile was filled with doubt. Lex realized how odd this must seem to her. They didn't know each other very well, and here he was offering to spend several hours a week teaching her to fight.

It seemed Clark recognized her unease. Lex watched, fascinated, as the two communicated across the table, with nothing but their eyes, and minute changes of facial expressions. It seemed the two were even closer now than they had been before. That tended to happen when two people shared a secret.

It was a secret Lex also happened to share. At least, in part.

_________________________

A few days after the murder, Clark made a delivery to the mansion. It wasn't unusual for him to hang around for a bit to chat. But, this time, Lex since the younger man had a purpose.

"So," Clark began, unable to hide his nervousness. He shifted from one foot to the other, pushed his fidgety hands into his pockets. "I guess you're wondering why Chloe didn't tell the police she knew Merrick."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Lex admitted. As he closed the door of his study, he was barely able to suppress a smile. Clark looked so edgy, like he'd jump out of his skin at the first loud noise.

How long did it take him to work up the nerve to come on this little fishing expedition?

"I must say, I'm surprised," Lex continued. He pushed his hands into his own pockets. "As a reporter, I'm sure Miss Sullivan knows that, in a murder case, the police are always eager to talk to anyone who knew the victim."

"But she didn't know him all that well," Clark insisted. "Chloe met Merrick right after he got to Smallville. He overheard her talking about the Wall of Weird, and I guess he was really interested. Chloe said he'd had some unusual experiences himself. So, every once in a while, they'd meet to talk about one of Chloe's investigations or something. And that was pretty much it." Clark shrugged. "Chloe thought about telling the police. But she was afraid her dad would freak if he knew she'd spent so much time alone with an older guy he didn't know. Besides, it wasn't like she knew anything that could help find the killer."

Lex nodded, more than a little impressed. It was a plausible explanation. Although it did sound a bit rehearsed. Like something two nervous teens made up and went over several times.

Lex donned a thoughtful frown. "You're probably right. Just because she talked to him a few times doesn't mean she knows anything that could help the investigation. After all, you can talk to someone every day and never really know them."

"Exactly," Clark agreed. If he detected any hidden meaning behind Lex's words, he didn't show it. He was too busy trying to accomplish his goal for the day. "So, uh, if you wouldn't mind, we'd, uh…" Stuttering to a halt, he ducked his head. "Well, Chloe and I, we really don't want…"

"Don't worry about it, Clark," Lex interrupted, putting him out of his misery. He placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. "If the police find out Chloe knew Merrick, it won't be because of me."

Clark sighed, his relief palpable. "Thanks, Lex."

_________________________

"Then I accept your offer, Mr. Luthor," Chloe said, bringing Lex out of his reverie. "If you're really sure."

"Absolutely. And I commend you for wanting to learn to defend yourself. I think everyone should. In fact, Clark, if you change your mind…"

Shaking his head, Clark held up his hand. "I'll let you know."

Just then, a waitress finally made it to their table. As Clark and Chloe gave their orders, Lex was surprised to feel a twinge of guilt for his little ruse, however innocent. As far as the teens knew, Lex had completely accepted Clark's explanation. He doubted either one was worried about what he knew anymore.

Once again, Lex considered coming right out and asking what was going on. He could explain that, whatever the truth was, whatever it had to do with Merrick, he didn't want to use it to hurt them in any way. He just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. To understand what he'd seen that night. And why they felt the need to lie.

But he knew Clark. Young Mr. Kent might not be the best liar in the world, but he was an expert at keeping secrets. If there was something he didn't want to reveal, he wouldn't, especially if he felt pressured. And, while Lex didn't know Chloe as well, he imagined she'd shut down if he confronted her directly.

However, if they didn't think he was interested in their secrets, perhaps they'd start to let their guards down…

"So, Mr. Luthor," Chloe began as the waitress hurried off. "When do you want to start? I know how busy you are, so it's entirely up to you."

"I have some free time tomorrow afternoon. We can start then."

The girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. That's fast."

"Actually, I was thinking of starting today. But I'm attending a retirement dinner for an employee tonight. So, be at the mansion at about five tomorrow afternoon. And don't forget your workout gear."

After that, the conversation wandered off in other directions. As he talked, Lex couldn't keep from smiling in anticipation. He was glad Chloe had accepted his offer to train her. He was convinced spending some time with Miss Sullivan could be very informative.

___________________________


He watched, a face lost in a sea of faces, oblivious to the music, the laughter, barely aware of the throng of teen-agers that milled around him. His entire focus was on one man, one face.

Seeing Lex Luthor smile caused a ball of rage to tighten, like a fist, in his chest. He didn't deserve that smile, or whatever happiness had caused it. Didn't deserve to be sitting there, relaxed and content, as if he didn't have a care in the world. Didn't deserve the air of satisfaction, of confidence, that surrounded him.

Didn't deserve anything.

The watcher glanced at the two teens who shared Luthor's table. They didn't seem like the type he remembered Luthor associating with. They were too clean cut. Too innocent. Nothing about them seemed corrupt, or damaged. Not yet, anyway.

It probably wouldn't be long before the young millionaire changed all that.

Luthor stood. Saying a few words to his young companions, he picked up his laptop strolled out of the coffeehouse.

Mouth set in a hard, grim line, the watcher rose to follow.


(TO BE CONTINUED)