The Cat and the Bullet

Chapter 4

Pete Ross wears a red wig to hide his iconic, tight, curly brown hair; the top of the wig is combed carefully to one side, a stray curl hanging over his squared forehead. Today Sam Lando has decided to wear a white starched suit with a purple bowtie that would make Mark Twain proud. It's such an un-Pete-like thing to wear it's no wonder no one has figured out the truth. Far as the world knows, he's my crippled, adopted big brother. My insides boil when I think of all the lies, we've told the world to save Clark Kent. Those lies were about to bury me alive.

"Ms. Grant," Sam nods in greeting to her. I don't miss the flush that rushes to his cheeks or how he can't take his eyes off Cat's scathingly dressed figure. He winds a nervous hand around his wristwatch. Please, God, tell me I'm reading him wrong.

"Sammy," Cat chides. "No need for such formalities," She wanders over to the small bar in the back of the room as if she's done it a hundred times and pours a glass of scotch for Sam and white wine for herself. "We're old friends after all," She hands him the glass and makes herself comfortable on the edge of the wheelchair's arm.

"Just friends?" Sam smirks at her, raising one playful eyebrow. "You wound me Cat." Darkseid is a picnic compared to this. I gag.

"Shut your mouth, Clark," Cat says. "It's rude to gawk." She's one to talk. I've caught her gawking at me on numerous occasions when I wear my other work clothes. Now I'm starting to think Cat was gawking at 'Sammy'not Superman. I school my expression back to normal. Looks like I'm not the only one with secrets. I shoot Pete a look saying, 'We're not done discussing this,' and tilt my head towards Cat meaningfully hoping she's not going to make me dig my own grave.

"As much as I love seeing you," she leans over and unbuttons Sam's shirt with deft fingers. "This is not a social call."

"I gathered as much," he looks at me when he says this with no trace of recognition on his face. I thank my lucky stars Pete went to acting school and is half a decent actor. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting," he extends a hand to me cordially. I take it, praying I'm as good of an actor as him.

"Clark Kent of the Daily Planet," I say in a robotic voice. I wait for Cat to get to the punch line but when she shows no indication of speaking, I begrudgingly take the lead. It is just another interview. There is nothing weird about this. "I don't know if you are aware, but at approximately 10:55 last night your brother was spotted at Andrina's penthouse," I say in one short breath.

Sam's cool demeanor cracks and he looks between Cat and me as if we've grown two extra heads. Then he raises an incredulous brow towards me, much too personal for my liking. It's the face of a sibling admonishing his tactless younger brother. I fight the urge to look away.

Cat seems to remember this is her story too, digging out the photocopy and handing it to Sam. Pete's features tighten as he takes the offensive sight in. "We were hoping you could shine some light on the situation, love," Cat purrs, rubbing soothing circles in his arm. "Nobody knows dirt like family," she says with a sly smile. "How long have Superman and Andrina been an item? Is he doing this to spite Lex? Are we to expect a Super Baby flying around soon?" I elbow her in the side warningly.

Sam Lando is so livid that steam comes out of his ears. I'm glad Clark is here and not Superman, otherwise, I would be getting an earful. He crumples up the photo in his fist eyes red with fury. "I expect this from Lane, not you Grant," he says through pursed lips.

"Don't be like that Sammy," She says, her grip tightening on him.

"That's Mr. Lando to you!" He spits out, wheeling out of her way; Cat stumbles mouth ajar in shock. I catch her before she trips on her high heels.