Chapter 4: Take A Chance On Me

Part 4:

It didn't take long for Chloe and Clark to arrive at the house of Timothy Hudson, the name on the small piece of paper. This house, in comparison to George Layton's grungy house in Metropolis, was much more luxurious. Practically a mansion, Clark observed, instantly a bit intimidated by its sheer size. As he gazed up, all he could see were huge, rectangular windows lined with blue shudders. The white siding added a soft touch to the overall feel of the house, allowing it to slip into the category of upper class, suburban accommodations.

But the house was dipped in the darkness of nighttime sleep.

Is this right? Clark asked himself, clearly confused. Shouldn't this guy be residing in the black hole of Las Vegas? If he really participated in the many, illegal things we think he may have done …

"This is the address you took off the Internet?" Chloe asked in a whisper.

Clark, walking just a little behind her as they took the steps up to the front door, answered, "Yeah, I think so."

They were on the outskirts of Las Vegas, in the varying spots with houses just like this all around. The sections people rarely saw on the Travel Channel or in brochures. But they did exist, just like in any other major city in the United States. And though Clark would have believed normal life happened every day to the citizens of Las Vegas, the fact that this man, supposedly known for truly underhanded and illegal crimes, was living such a promising life quickly became hard to swallow.

Chloe looked anxiously at her watch. "It's so late. I hope he doesn't confuse us for robbers or anything."

Clark sighed with the same ounce of anxiety. Then knocked on the door.

There was no answer, of course. But after another second, he rapped on the door again. This time, much louder.

Clark debated if he should ring the doorbell, aware that would practically announce their arrival on such a dismal night. As Chloe feared, Hudson might consider them robbers, or merely criminals looking to cause mischief. Not to mention both Chloe and himself, though they were in their mid-twenties now, did look like kids. And anyone would refuse to answer the door under such conditions.

However, time was critical. And Lois was waiting.

But when he reached for the doorbell, the porch lights suddenly lit above them. And the door ahead opened.

"Yes?" asked the man irritably. Clark guessed he was in his late thirties, with black hair peppered white just above his ears. He wore glasses, as well, though his eyes squinted behind them. Eyes clearly carrying exhaustion and hardly any tolerance. Hudson had every right to be a bit crisp and tight with them, considering the inconvenient time of night.

"Hi," Chloe replied, her wide smile trying hard to break the immediate tension, "My name is Chloe Sullivan, and this is Clark Kent. Reporters for The Daily Planet." She then paused. "Are you Timothy Hudson?"

Hudson straightened a bit. "I am. Why?"

"We just need to talk to you, sir. It'll only take a minute," Clark reassured, with an encouraging, small smile.

"I really don't want to talk to any reporters tonight," he said.

But when he tried to close the door on them, Chloe refused to let their investigation end here. She would not rest until she was looking into Lois' eyes, and saw safety residing there. Only then would the weight be lifted.

And with force, she stepped up and held the door open, just enough for Hudson to still see both of them through a small crack. But it would be enough.

"Please. There is no way we would be out here, traveling the incredibly safe streets of Vegas, if not for a good reason," Chloe pressed. The urgency and need in her voice both convincing and strong.

Hudson bowed his head slightly, before his eyes turned to her. The tension melted a bit, and in its place was a hint of compassion. A welcome light on the otherwise pitch, black path they've been traveling since Metropolis.

He then nodded, letting the door open a bit further. "Okay, but be quiet. My family's still asleep."

Family? Clark asked himself. The puzzle of Timothy Hudson continued to unravel, or, perhaps, become more complicated by the second. Either way, Clark's interested piqued ten fold. And something pulled at his gut, something tangible, something instinctual. Something that told him the visit would be worth it.

When they stepped into the foyer, twice the size of Clark's kitchen on the farm, he immediately felt his previous intimidation refuel at the bottom of his stomach. Despite his instincts, nothing could displace his fear that Hudson would be totally uncooperative. And that, through everything, their difficult and exhausting investigation actually led to an impenetrable dead end. Not totally impenetrable, he reminded himself. If I can break through walls, I can clearly break through this.

Impeccably decorated, the interior of the house matched that of the exterior in exquisite detail and beauty. Hudson, though Clark did not notice, led him and Chloe to the immediate sitting room on the right, which housed a grand piano, a fireplace, and chairs often seen on display on tours through old-time mansions of long ago. Can we sit in these? Clark asked, a little amusement crossing his lips.

"This is a wonderful home," Chloe commented in a slight whisper, stating Clark's thoughts.

Hudson nodded as he sat in a comfy, plush, red chair adjacent to a coffee table in the middle of the room. "Thank you. We enjoy it."

Clark studied various objects interspersed throughout the room with his X-ray and magnifying vision. He wasn't exactly sure what to look for, but knew anything obviously suspicious would be a place to start. And though pictures would not help them much, he could not help but stop to gaze at one on the mantle of the fireplace across from the couch Hudson offered them to sit on. A picture, specifically, of his family – him, probably his wife, and two young children.

Without warning, previous conversations with his parents back in high school, and even recently just after college, flooded back to his mind like a tidal wave. Clark often considered the real possibility that he may never be able to have children. Of course, he could adopt. That was always an option. But, despite the joys of such a decision, it would not be the same. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Yet he was adopted. And his parents loved him as if he was their own son, and they always told him that over and over again.

Clark glanced to Chloe then, curious as to her thoughts on the subject. She never spoke of it with him before, despite their two-week relationship nearly two years ago. And he wondered how important it might be to her. Would she need to have her own children? Or would she be content just to love her husband?

Did he ever have the right to ask someone to give up something like that?

It was the same question he has lived with for quite some time, especially when his feelings for Chloe resurfaced during college. And now, the question seemed to settle uncomfortably in his soul, acting only as a reminder of its need to be addressed.

"Did you work for James Peterson?" Chloe asked beside him, the voice that caused his thoughts to crumble under the weight of the here and now.

Hudson paused for a second, his expressions drawn a bit as he considered his answer. And what Clark noticed, finally, was how often people in this investigation wanted to deny their affiliation with Peterson. Which only interested him all the more.

"Yeah," he finally answered.

Chloe nodded. "What did you do for him?"

Hudson shrugged slightly, and leaned back a little in his chair. "Things I'm not proud of."

"What things?"

Clark quietly cringed at Chloe's question, a little worried with Hudson's reaction to the prying they were doing in his life. Already, just from the tension in the man's face alone, Clark could tell the subject was an uncomfortable one. And though the investigation needed to progress at a quick pace, it also could not afford to be halted completely by an inappropriate question. Honestly, he would not be surprised if Chloe's nosy nature might have gone too far, too soon in this particular situation.

Yet Hudson merely sighed, glanced away from them, and then admitted, "Whatever he told me to do, I did it. I didn't want to most of the time. But it was money, a job."

"Can we include illegal in your definition?" Chloe asked candidly, though with clear, genuine interest above any hostility.

Hudson then stood and walked towards the fireplace, settling a hand on the mantle. His eyes fell on the picture of his children. "Probably. But I left it," he replied, then turning back around to face them. "I just couldn't do it anymore. So I got myself a respectable job, married, and started a family. The life I couldn't get from what I was doing before. Something I never want to go back to."

Clark chimed in quickly, "Mr. Hudson, we're not here to accuse you of anything. And we're not here to expose you. We just need information."

"My cousin," Chloe began, with only the slightest crack in her voice, "was kidnapped almost a week ago now. We've been looking for her ever since. Our investigation led us to Peterson - who, surprisingly, seems to have some interest in performing criminal acts."

"Time is running out, and knowing Peterson is involved isn't getting us close enough," Clark added.

Chloe leaned forward slightly, and settled her elbows on her knees, with her hands folded just a little out in front of her. Exhaustion hardly described her features, and Clark knew the minute they found Lois, Chloe would crash for days. They've been chasing after Lois for two days straight, with hardly any sleep in the middle. The journey far more extreme than either expected. An experience that tested their endurance, stretched their capabilities, and almost shattered their already fragile friendship.

"We need you to give us some idea of where to start looking," Chloe explained.

"You really think I would know?"

Clark sighed softly; aware he was dodging them a little. "Well, if you were involved in that half of Peterson's business, then … yes, we think you can help us." After a second of silence, he added quickly, "There has to be some place that he used more than the rest. A place he would most likely take someone he just kidnapped."

Hudson seemed to let his wall of protection fall slightly. Especially when his eyes fell on Chloe, who seemed clearly distraught by the entire situation. And when he moved back to his chair, scratching his head absently, he commented heavily, "So much of his business has changed now. I'm sure it's not the same."

"There has to be something you can give us," Chloe pushed.

Hudson rubbed his chin and sat down, and Clark could see the wheels spinning quickly inside his head. When he did not say anything at first, the tension built slightly inside the huge room. Because all three knew the important of anything he could offer. Just anything, some clue to keep the trail going and alive. Not that their entire investigation should rest solely on this interview alone, but Lois' time was running out. And any misuse of that precious time would certainly come back to haunt them.

And just as Clark was about to suggest another angle, Hudson offered quietly, "He did buy a new building. An entirely new business, actually."

"A new business in Vegas?" Clark asked.

"Yeah, Lyman Trucking Company or something. The building itself is an old warehouse, really, on the outskirts of the city limits, a bit south of here." Hudson explained.

But Chloe, of all people, played the skeptic and asked rightfully, "What makes you think he would use that building?"

Hudson smiled. "Because he hated being so 'out in the open', as he stated it. The building he bought has a some kind of … cellar or something quite a few feet below the surface."

Clark nodded, biting back the smile that tried desperately to creep over his lips. The something that tugged on him when they first arrived here was finally revealed, and he could not help but believe the end of the tunnel they've been searching for lay below the surface of the earth. And then abruptly, he felt Chloe stand up, and he did so quickly to follow her lead.

"Thank you for your time," Chloe said, the first, genuine smile gracing her beautiful face.

Hudson stood and extended his hand to her. "I'm glad I could help."

In seconds they were escorted to the door, exchanging pleasantries above the surface of the mostly awkward last few minutes.

And when the door to the huge house finally closed behind them, Clark felt Chloe tug him away urgently.

"We need to go now," she whispered, as their footsteps reached the neighborhood sidewalk.

"I agree."

Chloe looked to him suggestively, her eyes dancing with excitement. "Then let's go."

"Well, our car is …," Clark began, but could not finish his thought when he felt Chloe suddenly pull him close.

"No," Chloe urged. "I mean, let's go. You know … run to it. Fly to it. Whatever form of transportation you think is the fastest."

Clark felt blood rush to his cheeks. "But what if someone sees me? Sees us?"

"It's dark out. Plus, everyone is gambling this time of night," Chloe commented lightly, with a small smile.

Clark smirked. "I thought you didn't like to fly with me?"

"I trust you."

And in her eyes, Clark knew she meant it.

For the first time in two years.

Without another second of hesitancy, Clark picked her up effortlessly in his arms, and shot like a bullet through the midnight air.

On the other side, Clark was sure; Lois would be waiting for them.

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to be continued ...