Mark was a man with a past that seemed sure to catch up with him. But there were people in high places that were looking out for him, even as his life and his job seemed to be taking him in a very odd direction.

~o~O~o~

I was fresh out of college at twenty-one years old with my master’s degree in hand. I had done it in four years, but should have been there for six years. I had a perfect 4.0 average to boot.

Criminal science had been my study of choice and I had more than a few offers on the table as far as work was concerned.

Several police departments and one very large private firm had offered me a job any time I was ready. The way it looked right now the private firm was the way to go. The money was better and I didn’t have to work my way to the top like I would with the police department.

As it stood right now, I had already helped the local police solve more than one murder case and that had gotten me more than one or two friends on the force. Mike was one of those friends and as we drank a beer at the local watering hole, he chided me about the job with the private firm.

“You realize you will be a token male if you take that job,” he grinned.

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

“The company is owned by two women and they employ mostly women. Maybe even all women so far as anybody knows,” he added.

“And how would you know that?” I asked.

“They had a suit filed against them some time back. Discrimination, if I recall, filed by a man with more experience than you,” he shot back. Then he stood and headed for the bar and another round of beer.

“Well, I know they use women as couriers and they are a multi-national company. But I’m pretty sure the EEOC would have landed on them long ago, if they had no male employees at all,” I added.

“They did,” Mike smiled, “about three years ago. It lasted all of about thirty minutes or so I was told. Seems the investigator had looked at some of the employee files and dropped the case almost as quick as it was filed.”

“Did anyone find out why?” I asked.

“Not really,” he said with a halfway grin. “We figured they had enough men on the payroll to cover their butts.”
It was six in the morning and Mike’s shift was over. He headed home while I headed back to my apartment. I had an appointment with the head lady tomorrow. In the meantime, I wanted to do some checking up on them for myself.

I spent most of the day going over what I knew and searching the net for what I didn’t know. Around noon I called it good and headed off to bed. I was sure to get the nickel tour of the place tomorrow, but for now sleep was the only thing on my mind. Well, that and the case I was working with Mike.

I hit the floor about seven that afternoon and did my daily two mile run. I was in no way the stereotypical male. I was thin as a rail, according to most, but if Mike had his way, I would be sporting a beer gut and way too many pounds.

I’m five foot nine inches tall and weigh around one thirty, maybe one thirty-five if I am eating well. I have dark blue eyes and sandy brown hair. If they weren’t so dated, I could easily wear the same clothes I graduated high school in. I wore a 30x, 33 pant and a size 15 long shirt. When tight pants were in for men, as well as the women, I was often told I had a bubble butt, whatever that means.

I had a steady thing with one of our cheerleaders in high school. She had taken off for some college in Georgia after graduation. She wanted to be a nurse and some college offered her a scholarship. She would lend a whole new meaning to the word Georgia peach, that was for sure.

I continued that trend with a cheerleader here in college. As you might have guessed by now, I had no trouble getting laid if I wanted. And yes, I knew a pretty girl when I saw her. Brandy had graduated the same day I did and headed home for the spring break. She never said so, but I doubted I would see her again.

After a quick shower, I headed for police headquarters. Mike was already there when I came through the door.

“Ready to wrap this up?” He asked.

“What? You got some new lead?” I replied.

“No, but we do have the murder weapon now,” he smiled.

“You had it checked for prints or a ballistic match?” I asked.

“Yes and yes.” He smiled even bigger. “They’re waiting for you in the lab to confirm the report.”

I all but skipped down the stairs to the lab. If the .45 caliber we had was a match, this case was over. That meant I was free to pursue whatever job I chose.

The bullet was a match and the fingerprints belonged to the wife of the dead man. If the wife tested positive for GSR, the case was over. By the way, GSR is gun shot residue.

“So how did we get the gun?” I asked Mike after I confirmed it was the murder weapon.

“Some rock hound was out walking in the desert with a metal detector and found it,” Mike replied.

“Did he tell you where in the desert?” I asked.

“About three miles from the victim’s house and about twenty yards off the main road,” he added.

Mike had already questioned the wife once and she had a good alibi. Still the evidence didn’t lie and when Mike confronted her with it, she broke down.

Paul, our victim, was dating a show girl on the side and had been for quite some time. The wife knew he was up to something, just not what till she caught them together at a local motel.

The girl ran and got away clean. Paul caught a bullet in the chest and died on the scene. The wife had made a run to the store for party favors as she was hosting a hen party of sorts that night. We suspect she ditched the gun on her way back home and all the women at the party said she had been gone less than ten minutes, not nearly enough time to drive to the motel and back. Still, once she confessed, it was over.

It wasn’t even midnight when I told Mike I was done and headed home. I had signed off on all the reports and took my few belongings from the lab.

“It was great working with you,” Mike said, “and keep in touch.”

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and this case was proof positive of that time honored saying. Tomorrow would be a new day and I was sure a new case for Mike to solve.

In the meantime, I was headed home and straight to bed. I wanted to look sharp for my interview tomorrow with the agency.

Chapter 2

The sun seemed almost new to me. I had worked the owl shift with Mike for the last three months and hadn’t seen it much if at all. After my run and fresh shower, I broke out my best suit and tie. I didn’t like wearing it much, but I wouldn’t get a second chance to make a first impression.

I had been told some time back Ms. Franklin broke no argument when it came to her dress code. Near as I could tell, she had the means to back herself on that one or at least she and her other female partner in the business.

I parked my Chevy outside the ten story building and steeled myself for what might be a once in a lifetime chance. Hell, yes, I was nervous. I was about to meet the most influential woman in this town. She had made and broken more careers than I could count. More to the point she had almost sunk Mike’s career. Probably the reason he didn’t care for her or her agency very much.

I had one foot in the door and some thirty feet away the receptionist was calling Ms. Franklin to announce I was here.

“Mr. Singer is here,” she said with a smile.

When I got to the desk, she didn’t even give me the chance to speak. “Tenth floor, last office on the left,” she said, as she pointed at the elevator.

I could play that game. I nodded and pushed the button for the elevator. I could feel the woman staring a hole right through my back, but I wasn’t about to turn and look to see if I was right.

When the elevator stopped, I checked my look one last time in the shiny steel doors. I took a deep breath just as the door opened. Now I was more than surprised.

Ms. Franklin was standing there and greeted me with a smile as soon as the door opened. I was expecting short cropped hair and a power suit suitable for a woman of her position.

I wasn’t even close.

“Mark Singer,” I stuck out my hand.

“Isadora Franklin,” she held out her rather limp wrist.

“You seem a bit shaken, Mr. Singer.”

“Well, I will admit you’re not what I expected,” I smiled, as she led me down the hall.

“While you, on the other hand, you are pretty much exactly what I expected,” she smiled.

“Really?” I questioned.

“Have a seat Mr. Singer,” she smiled, as she closed her office door behind us.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Care for a drink?” She asked.

“Scotch on the rocks,” I replied, as she paused at the bar to make it.

She handed me the glass and took a seat on the corner of her desk.

“Thank you,” I said, as I took a sip of the drink. She was looking me over hard and I all but dreaded the questions I could see coming.

“That’s probably your best suit and ill tailored for your body,” she stated. “Your hair is neat and clean, but you did forget to shine your shoes. Your watch is way too gaudy, as is the tie. It’s easy to see you went out of your way to try to make a good impression and I suspect you felt you needed to, as we only employ women.”

She paused and slipped into the chair behind her desk. She had pretty well nailed me before I even spoke.

“And what do your eyes and senses tell you?” She asked.

“Your clothes are well tailored and that is a luxury you can well afford. You are not the feminist most think you are. The high split in your skirt, never mind the high heel shoes, are not the trappings of that sort of woman. The wonder bra you’re wearing shows off your bust line well and from the overall figure you possess, I suspect you spend many hours in the gym everyday. Shall I continue?” I paused.

“Well done,” she smiled. “Right on almost every count, but I am a feminist through and through. It’s the only way a woman can get to the top.”

“You hide it well.” I raised my glass in a mock toast.

“I have to, but we can talk about that some other time. I’ll get to the point Mr. Singer. Have you ever dressed as a woman?” She asked.

“You already know the answer to that,” I shot back. “We met last year at the Shakespeare Festival. I was wearing a peasant maid’s outfit. You said, and I quote, ‘The costume was fitting’, did you not?”

“Yes, I recall saying that, but I had no clue that was you.”

“To answer your question, I have no problem with letting others think I am the opposite gender. Likewise, I have no problem dressing that way. It can be rather disarming when people, men that is, think you’re a female.”

“Good answer,” she smiled. “You’re not the chauvinist I was told you are either.”

“Oh, but I am. When we were walking down the hall, I spotted at least three women that could be good prospects for later tonight.”

“I would be careful on that one,” she smiled. “At least half of all my employees are male, but you will have to guess as to which half.” She smiled even bigger.

This wasn’t idle banter now.

“I take it you have some design or plan for me along those lines as well.”

“You did say it wasn’t a problem?” She questioned.

“I did, but we haven’t talked money or any other reasons that I would agree to work in such a…”

“Problematic way.” She finished the thought for me.

“Yes, that would be one way to say it,” I agreed.

“I’ll start you out at 40k a year. You will work strictly in the lab till your training is done. Once you have passed the entire test and there are many, I might add, you will be available for field work.”

“We also loan out our agents here from time to time. They work with other agencies and draw two paychecks instead of one. We even work with the police when we are asked. Last year one of my older agents made over 100k in commissions alone and she never broke a nail.”

“We take our work serious. My agents don’t do favors. We work and we get paid well for doing it. Now, if you would like the tour, Amanda will be glad to show you around. I think you will be impressed with the facilities.”

“Thank you. I would like that very much.”

Amanda moved like a cat in heat and despite the stress I could feel just below my belt buckle, I reminded myself that her real name might just as well be Adam as it was Amanda.

The 8th floor was nothing more than an elaborate spa. Any and every need for the employees could be met here. The 6th floor was a gym and about 6 to 8 aerobics classes going all at the same time. The 4th floor was the lab and it had all the good stuff in it. It made the police lab look like it was something from the fifties or worse.

The first three floors were apartments and everybody in training stayed there, bar none. Amanda said it was mandatory. Even she had stayed on the site for most of a year.

“For training?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied, as we stepped on the elevator and headed back up.

40k was double any offer I had on the table at the time and I had three not counting this one. By far the amenities were better here than any of the others. I wasn’t so sure about the training aspect of it or even what it was. What more did I really need, after all I had my masters degree already. Field experience was the obvious answer, but I don’t think that was what Ms. Franklin had in mind.

I thanked Amanda for the tour when she dropped me off at Ms. Franklin’s door.

“In or out?” She asked, almost as soon as I was in the door.

“I still have a few questions,” I stated.

“You have all the information you will get till you make your decision,” she said almost in a huff.

“I’ll call you,” I said, as I turned towards the door.

“The offer expires at midnight and you already know you have nothing better to go to. Mike is a good friend and fine cop, but he still makes less than 30k a year and he’s been there ten years. He’s going nowhere fast, but you’re welcome to follow him if that is what you want.”

I loosened my tie as I headed down the hall and back to my car. She had read me like a book from the moment I walked in the building. While, on the other hand, she was nothing like what I had expected? Hell, for that matter, I wasn’t even sure she was a she.

I called Mike and asked him to meet me at the bar. I had till midnight to make up my mind and right now he was the best friend I had. I grilled him about anything he could tell me about being a cop. The bottom line was you had to love the job to stay with it and unless you just loved kissing ass, don’t plan on anybody helping you up the ladder. Last, but not least, never trust anyone and especially not another police officer.

Mike didn’t paint such a pretty picture for the police department and I knew it wasn’t a good paying job.

It was 11: 50 when I called Ms. Franklin and took the job. It was a call that had the potential to be the best or worst call I had ever made.

“I’ll take the job,” I said, as soon as she answered the phone.

“I figured you would,” she smiled, as she hung up the phone.

By the time I made it back to my apartment, Amanda was waiting for me.

“Looking for me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Escort me to your car?” She asked.

“Sure.” I took her by the arm and headed back towards the car just in time to see the moving truck pull in.

“Give the driver the key to your apartment,” Amanda smiled.

“Am I moving?” I asked.

“It’s better this way. With spring break going on your college friends will come back to find you gone. The place is rather deserted now so nobody will question it.” She added.

“Where to?” I asked after she fastened her seatbelt.

“The office. We have an apartment already set up for you there,” she grinned.

“I’m starting to feel like I was set up from the start,” I replied.

“Can’t say, I was just told to come and get you about an hour ago,” she added.

“I can tell you you’re getting my old place. It has a really good view. I think you’ll like it.” She smiled again.

It was almost 2:00 a.m. and I was ready for some sleep. As soon as I parked the car, Amanda took me to the second floor and showed me my new home, at least for the time being, she added.

She poured us both a drink and while I took mine it was the last thing I really needed. I took a chair at the kitchen table with her talking a mile a minute about the company. That was the last thing I remember till I awoke in bed some time later.

My bladder was so full I bolted from the bed. I was three steps towards the bathroom before I realized my chest felt different. I paused, but only long enough to realize my best friend was gone as well.

Without hesitation I sat down and the water flowed from my bladder like a river. My chest felt squishy for some reason and I was sure I would know soon enough. When the water stopped, I looked between my legs and mad as hell right then. It looked like I had a vagina now and the beginnings of a pair of breasts. I wiped and headed back to the bedroom.

Ms. Franklin and another woman that I had not seen before were there waiting. “Jennifer, meet Maggie Singer.”

“A/k/a Mark Singer,” I replied, as I stuck out my hand. “And what the hell is this?” I pointed between my legs while I looked Ms. Franklin right in the eye.

“A very expensive and convincing prosthetic. Your manhood is still in tact,” she replied in an almost casual tone.

“And this?” I cupped what would be all but tiny breasts in this house of silicone.

“Basic saline implants. Believe me you’ll need them to fit in around here,” she added.

“You realize this is grounds for a harassment charge. Right!”

“Probably, but you did fill out the application and signed the waiver giving us immunity from such,” she smiled.

“Jennifer will be your trainer for now. As your skills progress, so will your training and you will be tested along the way. Until you’re told otherwise, you and Jennifer are attached at the hip. Got it?” She all but shouted.

“Got it,” I replied.

“She’s all yours.” Ms. Franklin looked at Jennifer. “And do something about the attitude quickly, please.”

Jennifer just smiled as she watched our boss leave in a rather casual manner.

“She’s also known as the wicked witch of the north,” Jennifer smiled at me.

“And?” I questioned.

“Ms. Townsend is the good witch of the south.”

“Do tell,” I shot back. “Hope I don’t have to meet her anytime soon.”

“No, not till you’re more presentable, shall we say. I’m told you usually run two miles every morning,” she smiled.

“Usually, yes,” I replied.

“Good. Then put this on. We have lots of work to do.”

“Pink?” I sputtered, as I looked at the leotard and tights she had laid on the bed.

“Pink tells everyone on sight that you are new. Phase two, you get to wear blue. If you make it past that, phase three is black or red depending on your skill level. After that it’s nothing but green.”

“Since you’re wearing green, I take it you have been here a while.”

“Five years and I love it more everyday,” she smiled.

“Wow, pink running shoes too,” I said with some sarcasm.

As soon as I was dressed we headed for the gym. Jennifer ran every step just the same as I did. When we were done, I was sweating like a pig, while she was dry to the bone.

“The showers are that way,” she pointed to the far end of the gym.

I walked and was still catching my breath when the water from the shower hit me full force. I always enjoyed a good shower after my run, but, as I suspected, this one was cut short.

“Finish up,” Jennifer said. “We still have things to do and the day is getting away from us quick like.”

Jennifer gave me a towel and pointed me towards what looked like a dressing room. From habit I wrapped the towel around my waist. Jennifer just looked at me as if I had done something wrong.

When I stepped through the door, it was as if I had changed floors. I was now looking at a doctor’s exam table and what seemed to be a fully equipped office setup. A young woman, and I guessed her to be a doctor of some kind, stepped in the room.

“Dr. Joyce, this is Maggie. Maggie, Dr. Joyce.”

“Hello,” she smiled. “Not very lady like with that towel around your waist.”

She didn’t even wait for my reply and I doubt she even heard it anyway.

“Have a seat, please,” she motioned towards the bed.

I sat on the edge of the bed a bit uncomfortable with the stirrups turned out and ready for use.

“Sit back and relax. This will take just a few minutes and you can be on your way.”

When I stood to reposition myself on the bed, she quickly took the towel.

“Now, all the way back and put your feet up here.” She smiled, as she placed my right foot in the stirrup and then the left likewise.

“Any problem urinating?” She asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Any aches or pains I should be aware of?” She asked as she poked around my breast.

“None that I am aware of right now,” I stated flatly.

“Good, now close your eyes,” she said.

I was hesitant, but Jennifer said I should do as I was told.

The doctor placed her finger right above my navel and asked if I felt the hard spot the same as she did.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Okay, you’re going to feel a slight pinch so be very still, please.”

It was more than a slight pinch. In fact, it hurt like hell, but it passed quick enough.

“Now, you’re going to feel tightness in your chest. If it turns into pain, you tell me to stop. Okay?” She all but asked.

There was a lot of pressure on the right side of my chest and now it was starting to hurt, but it wasn’t real bad. When I was almost in tears, I said stop. If this was a test, I wanted to pass with flying colors.

“You’re going to feel another pinch. Again, tell me when to stop same as before.”

Now the pain had moved to my left side and I waited till I could stand it not a second more before I said stop.

“Now, I will give you a shot of pain killers. This should keep you pain free till in the morning,” the doctor said.

“Just lay still till that shot kicks in and then you can get up and go. Jennifer will stay here with you, but I have other patients to attend to.”

“Have a good day,” she said cheerfully, as she left the room.

I still had my feet in the stirrups and to say I felt totally silly would be a grand understatement of the fact. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my day had just gone from bad to worse.

Some minutes later, Jennifer asked how I was feeling.

“The pain isn’t quite as sharp now, but it’s there nonetheless,” I replied.

“Well, you stay put. I have to visit the ladies room right quick.”

“I’ll be right here,” I said, as I tried to take a long slow breath.

Jennifer was gone for quite a while and the whole time I laid there with my eyes closed and my feet in the stirrups just as she left me.

“Better now?” She asked.

“Much,” I replied. “The pain is all but gone, but I can feel the weight on my chest still.”

“That will pass,” and I could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke. “If you are ready, we still have things to do today,” she added.

She took my feet from the stirrups and asked me to stand up. I did and then I really felt the weight of my breast.

My hands flew to cover them as soon as I realized what had been done.

“You must have a high tolerance for pain,” Jennifer said. “Those are at least a D cup.”

I all but wanted to laugh and with my body full of pain killers, I felt way too mellow to get mad. I covered myself with the towel again and this time from the breasts down.

Jennifer took me to the next room where I was fitted for a corset, bras and panties, all at the same time. I was measured from my nose to my toes and Jennifer told them which room to send the stuff to.

From there she took me back to my room. I was still wearing the corset and the D cup bra I had been fitted with. It probably should have hurt like hell, but by now I was feeling no pain at all.

It was dark outside when Jennifer put me in the bed, but I had no clue what time it was. In fact, I wasn’t sure what day it was or much of anything else for that matter.

I would like to tell you I awoke early the next morning. Took whatever suitable clothes I could find and got the hell out as quick as I could, but that was not the case.

They let me sleep off and on for most of two weeks. What little I was awake was to eat and that was very little and, of course, to use the bathroom.

By the time I was really awake again, my body was accustomed to the corset and the D cup breasts I now had.

Jennifer cooked me breakfast that morning and gave me the run down on the next phase of my training.

“Your morning run will only be a mile now. Then you will take the intermediate aerobics course since you’re already in fair condition. After that or at least today, it’s off to the salon. You’ll get the works and after that all you will need is a maintenance visit from time to time.”

“Would you like a shower before we get started?” She asked.

“Yes, I believe I would if you don’t mind.”

I stood and she released me from the corset. I got the bra off on my own and it wasn’t the first time I had done it. I will admit to being shocked when I saw my now rather shapely body in the full mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

The pink leotard and tights were waiting on the bed when I got out of the shower. “No bra,” I said as I pulled the tights into place.

“No, you need to get the feel of how they move without one. All real women know this and you will need to know as well.” The pink running shoes were different than before and Jennifer didn’t wait for me to ask the question she saw on my face.

“They’re arched to fit your foot like high heels. By the time you meet Ms. Townsend next week you will walk in heels like you have done it all your life. Trust me,” she said with a wink, as we headed out the door.

Running with unsupported D cup breasts? Well, it might not be lady like to say so, but it hurt like hell. And the aerobics class was no better. But after an hour in the hot tub at the spa I felt much better.

Save the things you already know, the only thing remotely feminine about me from the start was my long hair. It was board straight and fell to about the middle of my back.

Now it was trimmed just to even up the ends and permed into really big curls. My eyebrows were thinned and given a somewhat high arch. While yet another woman applied cosmetics to my face, two others worked their magic on my fingernails and toenails. All in all, by the time I left the salon, there was nothing remotely male about me.

Now each morning started the same. My one mile run and then the aerobics class, which I soon began to hate. The exercises were all designed for women. Add to that when I wasn’t exercising I had to wear the corset and you could see real and definite changes in the shape of my body.

Jennifer was teaching me about makeup and taking care of my hair. Skin care was high on her list today and then we took a break for lunch. The rest of the day we spent reviewing cases that had gone cold.

We would watch the news at ten and go to bed and start the same routine over the next day. A month had passed before I knew it and I was stunned to core the day I opened the closet to find it full of clothes. Granted, they were for a female.

For the next month my aerobics class was changed for a Judo class. It was self defense, more or less, but considering my current condition I decided this was a class I really needed.

I also graduated to walking in real high heels and wearing stockings or pantyhose at times. Underneath I was still fuming mad, but for now all I could do was go along with whatever plan they had. My chance to make a break would come and I would take it no doubt when it did.

I started the third month with a smaller corset and I questioned Jennifer about the design of the waist.

“Your previous corset had a stem styled waist just not as wide as this one. Your last one had a two inch stem and this one is a three inch stem.”

It took her several minutes to get it fully closed in the back and I felt a size difference in my lower ribs.

I didn’t complain. It would have done no good to, but when I went for my checkup, Dr. Joyce did give me some pain killers to take till my body adjusted to the new corset.

After a week in the new corset, my body had adjusted to it and it was just as well as the pain meds were gone now.

How little did I know about all the drugs they were giving me in the food I ate every day. Granted I didn’t eat a lot, but I soon found out it was loaded with drugs, too.

The day had arrived and now Jennifer was taking me to meet Ms. Beverly Townsend. My other boss, if you would, and as I would find out much, much later on a man as well.

Beverly seemed to like me from the start and soon I had the run of the lab at least. Every day now I conducted my life much like any woman on the planet would.

In the lab I processed whatever evidence came my way. I had little contact with people outside of the office or the lab, but I was content to be working for whatever reasons.

I worked the morning shift now and did my classes in the evening. I seldom saw Jennifer any more as I was plenty well trained in the ways of a woman by now. It took me all of an hour now to get ready for work and that included taking a shower.

My hair and makeup was always flawless. My nails, while longer than I really liked them, were always polished. My pierced ears always sported some style of earrings and there were rings on my hands as well. I often wore a bracelet or an anklet depending on how I felt that day. And always wore a small but useful watch.

On the anniversary of my first year with the agency, I was told I could pick and choose my own place to stay now. It was the fist time I had stepped out of the building and into the public eye as a female.

I paused at the door for a quick second and then walked to my car. It was also the first day of a week’s vacation. I wanted to get moved as soon as possible and enjoy some of my time off.

A lot of things had changed for me and it was evident in the way I was treated. Men openly stared at me now. Some would blush, when I caught them, while others would undress me with their eyes. Most of them treated me well.

When I looked in the mirror now, I saw a woman and I was that woman. I wasn’t mad like I had been before. I was happy and maybe all too happy to look and feel the way I did. I wore skirts and dresses all the time and high heel shoes as well. I felt confident as a female and if the truth be told, it was all I could do to even remember the man I once was.

Spring was in full swing now and each day after work I spent at least an hour by the pool in my bikini. It was small and maybe too small for such a public place, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Now as sure as night must follow day, I began to get a few field assignments. I probably should have been more happy to get them too. But then these were known as dumb blond jobs. Pick up a case here, deliver it there, pretty much brainless stuff.

It wasn’t long then till I had a lot of extra money coming in. This was a good thing, as far as I was concerned. I spent a lot of time shopping and now had a pretty full woman’s wardrobe.

At times I questioned myself about buying such stuff, but my training and the drugs were still working and all too good.

Amanda, Jennifer and I were out one night having a nice meal and drinks when we ran into Mike. Yes, Mike, my old friend from the police department. He didn’t recognize me right off, but before the night was over I was sure he knew it was me.

You would think I would have been nervous, but I wasn’t. And I even gave Mike my new phone number and address before we parted that night. I wonder if this was just another test and Amanda and Jennifer would report back as to how I handled myself.

Mike never called or came by, but when one of our girls was gunned down on the strip, I was elected to work with him on the case.

“The rule is simple,” I told Mike. “Even I have done it. You take the bag or case or whatever you are given and deliver it to the person as you are told. You never know what you are carrying and we are never allowed to open the package and look.”

“So this girl had no clue she was carrying most of two million dollars,” he replied.

“Not a chance,” I stated firmly. “Unless the customer told her anyway which is also against the rules.”

“Well, all we have to go on is a slug taken from her body and one eyewitness that says it was a black male about six feet tall, bald and driving a Lincoln town car. He cut the handcuff chain, took the case and then shot her anyway, according to the witness.”

There were no prints on the half of the cuffs he left and the slug was from a .32 Colt, as near as I could tell.

Mike and I hit the streets and rounded up everybody that we even thought might know this guy. One girl told us it sounded like a pimp she knew that ran some girls on the west end of the strip. He was a want to be drug dealer as well. He was known as Carlos, but she wasn’t sure if that was his real name or not.

“Carlos, sounds more like a Hispanic name?” Mike questioned.

“True,” I replied, “but it’s a pretty thin lead to say the least.”

Around ten that night we turned the last of the bunch loose. Mike wasn’t allowed any overtime and it was the end of his shift.

He asked me to have a drink with him before we went home. Since we were working together, I took him up on the offer.

The old me would have recognized the place at a glance, but I was far too deep into being Maggie. Mike took his normal corner booth and the waitress soon showed up with two beers and a basket of chili cheese fries.

The beer was okay, but I passed really quickly on the fries.

“What? You afraid you will lose your figure in one night?” He scoffed.

“No, I’m just not hungry right now. Maybe another time,” I said.

“So what’s your feel for this one?” He asked.

“Well, none of our girls turn tricks so that angle is out.”

“But all of your girls do package delivery and it would seem they’re not so picky about the customer either,” he grinned.

“That’s not part of our job. The agency decided who and when for us, we just deliver the goods.

“Sounds like someone at the top is not above taking chances with her employees,” Mike grinned even bigger.

“Could be and it could be she didn’t know any more than she told the courier,” I replied.

I finished the beer and headed back to my place. I didn’t like the way Mike was talking about the company, but then I couldn’t afford to really ignore what he was saying either.

My front door wasn’t locked and when I pushed the key in, the door swung open. I had locked it before I left today so something was up. As soon as I turned on the lights, I knew my place had been tossed. It was a mess to say the least.

I called Mike and went back to my car to get my field kit. I dusted the place top to bottom for prints. Mine were everywhere, of course, but there were three that weren’t mine for sure.

Mike arrived about an hour later and he was as clueless as I was as to why this had been done. I told him I had three prints that weren’t mine and I would run them the next morning to see if we could get a match.

In the meantime, Mike suggested a safe house that was paid for by the department. Till I had some idea of what was going on, I decided to take him up on the offer.

I reported the break in to my boss and spent the next day in our lab running the prints through every database I could.

Mike had some ideas of his own and without me in toe he checked them out.

Carlos Ramirez, age 23, had left a thumbprint at my place. Also, his brother, Hosea, had left his. The other one belonged to a well known drug dealer named Manny Sosa.

All Hispanic and known to live in the Las Vegas area the lead Mike and I had gotten wasn’t quite so thin now.

I went to the safe house and sat on what I knew for the night. Mike was supposed to come and get me in the morning and we would go from there.

Unlike my place, there was little, if any, food in the place. Granted, I didn’t eat a lot since I still wore a corset almost 24/7, but some food is a good thing. I ordered out and it was delivered just in time for me to eat and watch the news at ten. By the way, there was tons of food at my house and it was all supplied by the agency. A perk I was told at the time. And no, I didn’t tell my boss I was staying in a safe house while the police were watching mine.

Mike picked me up at just after 7 in the morning. We took what evidence we had to the D.A. and got a warrant for Carlos, Hosea, and Manny.

Hosea and Manny said they were just along for the ride. It was Carlos that had broken into the place. He was looking for his money or so he told his boys.

Mike grilled Carlos and he was quick to claim the money. According to him, he had been in a high stakes poker game and won big. 1.85 million to be exact. He wanted his money and didn’t much care how he got it.

Also, according to him, his car had been stolen. And we did find a report to back that up. He also gave us the names of the players in this poker game and the place where it had been. He knew nothing and less than nothing about the girl that had gotten killed save what he had seen on the news.

We sat on all three of them for 72 hours while we checked out the story Carlos gave us. While it wasn’t exactly a legal poker game, Carlos had been there and he did leave the big winner. The money was taken from a local bank the next day and our courier was to take it to Carlos.

Mike and I could have pressed the breaking and entering charges on all three. Nothing was taken and we figured the judge would just turn them loose so we took a different approach to it.

There was most of two million dollars out there floating around and Carlos wanted his money one way or the other. We decided to turn them loose and put a tail on all three.

Mike’s captain suggested that I take Manny. Mike would get Carlos and Eric. Another police officer would take Hosea. He even gave Mike and Eric the okay for all the overtime they needed.

I spent most of the first week following Manny almost around the clock. What little time I was away from him I spent at the safe house alone. That was where I put two and two together and saw the pattern Manny was using to buy and sell his drugs. Granted, that wouldn’t solve Susan’s murder, but it might come in handy later on.

The next day Carlos’s car turned up torched just north of town. There was a case in it like the one Susan would have been carrying. When it was opened, it was empty and Carlos figured his money was gone for good now.

Some of the car wasn’t damaged too badly and I did manage to get some prints. I took the day off or at least as far as Manny was concerned and went to the office to run the prints.

I got several hits and once again put the information away for later. Sometimes the less the hoods think you know the more likely it is that they will screw up.

I was just about to head back to the safe house when I got a call from Beverly. She wanted to see me before I went home, so I headed up to her office.

What started out as a polite conversation soon got hot and heavy. It was going fine till she asked me about the case I was working on. I told her what I knew and where I thought it would all end. That was when she all but warned me not to look too deep, I might not like what I found. Finding Susan’s killer was fine, but anything after that was taboo. I should let the police handle that, she added.

I went back to the safe house feeling a bit confused. I knew the rule, we don’t do favors. So why was Beverly worried that I would bust some other people getting to Susan’s killer? It made no sense to me at the time.

The next day I gave Mike the names to go with the prints on the car. His smile went ear to ear.

“You realize this is almost every big time drug dealer in Vegas.” He shook my hand.

“I do and there is more, but I can’t tell you about it just yet. I have some other things to check on.”

“Okay, but what am I supposed to do?” Mike looked at me funny.

“Start arresting bodies and see if one will confess to killing Susan.” I smiled as I headed out the door.

I had the address of the would be brothel Carlos was running. I went to the court and asked for the land registry. I was pretty sure Carlos didn’t own the place so I was curious as to just who did.

Shock in no way covers what I felt when I saw the registered owner. William Bill Townsend. My first guess was a/k/a Beverly Townsend. So this whole thing could land right in her front door. Now things were starting to make sense.

Next was a records check on Beverly Townsend. They went back for only ten years then stopped. I cross checked all her accounts before I found what I thought was the missing piece of the puzzle. Bill Townsend and Beverly Townsend still had a Visa Gold card with the same account number.

I took Beverly’s reported birthday and ran that with birth records. Bill Townsend was there, but no Beverly. I stepped ahead 16 years and found an old drivers license photo. I searched the renew data base and got the oldest picture of Bill Townsend I could. Beverly’s license had a different number, but the address was the same.

This was not looking good for my boss at all. But then maybe most people knew she was once a he and had just forgotten about it. Still it didn’t explain why he or she, as the case, maybe owned a brothel or why a scumbag like Carlos was running it.

I still had way more questions than I did answers. Back at the safe house that night I felt very light headed. I almost called 911 and took a trip to the hospital, but would for sure blow my cover as a female.

By morning I was better and, in fact, I felt much better than I had in quite some time. While I was comfortable passing myself off as a female now, I searched my brain trying to figure out why I was doing it.

While Mike was working the who’s who list I had given him looking for our killer, I was busy watching Manny and the brothel. I was taking pictures of all the girls so when I made my case to Mike he would believe me.

All the while I was having lucid nightmares and occasionally some pretty wild daydreams. But my memory was coming back and getting clearer by the day. I had what I will call a Mark moment and decided to go by the apartment and grab some food.

Granted, the police lab wasn’t the best place to do it, but there was no one I trusted more than me to test the food. And with my memory getting better almost everyday now, I wasn’t surprised to find out the food was heavily drugged.

There was enough testosterone blockers in it to stop a horse. There were other things in it as well, but none that would be considered a smoking gun, as it were. Mood altering drugs, some herbs, nothing that would harm you in small doses.

Six months had passed now and still we didn’t have Susan’s killer. I had more than enough information to get my old life back and I was making a plan to do just that.

That Friday was payday and Monday I went straight to the local computer store and bought myself a new laptop. At another store just down the road I bought a metal detector as well. Then I called Mike and asked him to meet me at the spot where we found Carlos’s burned car.

Mike didn’t ask a lot of questions, but I was there long before he was.

“So what’s on your mind?” He asked, as he stood by my car.

“How about a scavenger hunt,” I replied, as I showed him the metal detector. They ditched the car here, so why not the murder weapon as well,” I added.

Mike frowned a little. “I kind of doubt they would leave it here, but I guess it won’t hurt to check around a little.”

And so it was that Mike and I started to search the area. Around lunch time Mike had the detector and got a big hit. We had to dig through several feet of blowing sand, but there it was, a .32 caliber automatic.

We beat feet back to the lab and I dusted it for prints. There were two real good ones and I was sure we would have a hit on them soon. I did the ballistics test as well and confirmed it was the murder weapon.

While the computer chewed on the prints, Mike suggested we have some dinner. We had missed lunch completely so I wasn’t hard to convince.

“What if we don’t get a hit?” Mike said, as I chewed on my salad.

“Well, I have another plan that I am sure you won’t like, but I am all but sure it will work and we get the bad guys to do our work for us. If it works,” I added.

I already knew the gun was registered to Hosea, but he could say the gun was in Carlos’s car when it was stolen. I was really hoping for a print match so we could know for sure who pulled the trigger.

Just as we finished up Mike got a call on the radio. We had a hit, but the person on the other end of the radio didn’t sound too happy about it at all.

We went back to the station and Mike followed me down to the lab this time. The prints came back to Hosea, but they had also found a report he filed saying it had been stolen long before Susan was shot.

“Plan B?” Mike asked.

“Yes, but you and I need to have a long talk alone somewhere before we put it in motion,” I smiled. “I’ll call you later. I have something I need to do, make some free time for later tonight,” I added.

There was a lot that Mike did not know about me. In fact, there were very few that did. I had a past and it wasn’t pretty. I would have to come clean with Mike and I was nervous about it to say the least.

I went to my apartment and got the storage key where all my old stuff was at. There was just one thing I wanted and that was my gun. My .44 Magnum was still in the case right where I had left it with two clips fully loaded.

I placed it in the leg holster I had bought earlier in the day. It was big and bulky, but I hid it well under my skirt. That wasn’t all that was hidden there and Mike would know that too after tonight.

Back at the safe house I used my new computer to make some travel plans. Ted, a friend of mine in college, was back in Mexico. His mom and dad were both doctors. I had met them some time back and they were good people. I needed a place to land and some medical help as well when all this blew up.

I called the airport where dad’s old plan was and had it checked out and prepared for a flight to Mexico. I gave my flight plans over the computer and got them approved for that Friday. Yes, I was making plans to run, but only for a while till I could be Mark again and clean up some loose ends…I hoped.

I called Mike and he came over at about eight that night.

“So what’s the big secret?” He asked, as he took the seat I offered.

“Do you remember working last year with Mark Singer?” I dropped the bomb.

“Sure, he’s a good man and smart to boot,” Mike added.

“Well, I am Mark Singer and still a man.”

“No way!” He shot back.

“Yes way and it gets worse,” I paused.

“Prove it,” he said, as he stood and got a beer form the sack on the table.

I slipped out the .44 Magnum my dad had bought me long ago. It had gold inlay and my name in gold on grips right and left. I took the clips from my purse and laid them on the table as well.

“I told you long ago I would never part with it.” I looked him right in the eyes as he looked over the gun.

“So there is more to this case than just finding Susan’s killer?” He all but asked.

“Way more,” I said. “And I will give you that bust that will make you the captain or maybe even the chief if you want the position.”

“And how will you do that?” He asked.

“I will be the bait, as it were.”

“No way,” Mike stated before I even had the chance to.

“You want to put Carlos and his boys away forever?” I asked.

“You know I do, but I won’t sacrifice your life to do it,” he added.

“Well, my life as Maggie is over now anyway. I am leaving Friday. I am going to Mexico to stay with some friends till I can be Mark again. Then I have plans of my own for the agency. That is if you don’t bring them down in the meantime.”

“Have you lost your mind?” He asked.

“No, but I have almost lost my manhood, thanks to them, and I want it back.”

“Meet me tomorrow, room 202, in the hotel across from the brothel where Carlos runs his girls. I’ll show you first hand how he is moving his drugs right under your nose.”

“Okay, but I don’t like this any a bit,” he said, as he headed out the door.

Chapter 3

Tuesday we sat and watched the brothel. I pointed out how some of the women walked in with small to very small breasts and walked out with large and very large ones. Some even came out with hips they didn’t have before.

“So what does that prove,” Mike said with some disgust.

“Pot, cocaine and what are the three main street drugs?” I asked.

“Heroin,” Mike said.

And that is a liquid, a liquid that could be easily placed in breasts and hip implants and transported all over the world. Once inside the body the dogs can’t smell it and nobody is going to do surgery at the airport now, are they?”

“And when did you figure this all out?” He asked.

“About a week after I started following Carlos around. My bet is the poker game was also a drug deal.”

“And Carlos was trying to cut Manny out of the deal,” Mike added.

“Yes, that is what I think, too.”

“So you plan to rat Carlos out to Manny? Then what?” He asked.

“Well, if we can get the department to front us the money, we make a buy and take down the whole operation. What do you think?” I added.

“Might work, but it might get you dead too,” he frowned.

“I figure if I can promise Manny the two million Carlos tried to cheat him out of, he will make a deal.”

“And what happens to the money if this thing goes bad?” He asked.

“Winner takes all,” I replied. “That’s the only way it will work.”

Tuesday I went to Manny and spilled my guts, as it were. I told him I knew how he was moving his drugs, when, where and so on. I also told him about the double cross by Carlos. He wasn’t surprised, but he was plenty mad.

“So what is it you want from me?” He spat. “You’re not a cop or you would have arrested me already.”

“We make a deal. You deliver Susan’s killer to me and I get the two million for you, simple as that.”

“And then we just all walk away,” he smiled, as if he didn’t believe me.

“I don’t care about your drugs or the girls. Susan was a friend and I do want her killer. You can make the deal with me or I can tell the cops what I know. I doubt they will make such a deal, but you’re welcome to try it.”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself for such a pretty little chick,” he smiled.

I blushed I know. Even after all this time I wasn’t accustomed to being told I was pretty or a chick.

I laid out all the pictures I had and it was plain as day to see what was going on. “I don’t think the cops will question me with this much evidence,” I added.

“Okay,” he smiled.

I gave him a cell phone number to a burn phone I had and told him to call when he was ready to deal.

In the meantime, Mike picked up three of his girls at the airport and took them to a local clinic. The doctors were stunned to the core when they found heroin in the implants.

The girls were taken straight to jail and sang like a bird against Carlos.

I reminded Mike that that didn’t get us Susan’s killer. It just got one more drug dealer off the streets.

“Did Manny take the deal?” He asked.

“Well, I am still alive, aren’t I?” I replied.

It took till Thursday for the police to come up with the money for the deal, so now we waited for Manny to call.

Friday around noon he did call and asked for a meeting place. I gave him a location just three miles from the airport where my plane sat waiting for me. Mike rounded up five men he trusted well enough to be in on this and we took off.

It was an old airplane hangar with plenty of room to hide the police cars and men till the deal went down. We got there long before the time of the meeting and I sat in what was the front office till Manny showed up.

Manny came in the front door with a pistol held firmly in the back of Hosea. With one big push Manny left him lying on the floor.

“Now, you tell her the truth or you will never leave this place.” He spat.

“I shot her. I shot the girl with the money,” Hosea all but screamed.

Mike heard him and busted in the door saying it was the police and drop your weapons.

Manny leveled his pistol at me, but I got the first shot and hit him square in the chest. At almost the same time Carlos and three other men came in the door with guns blazing. I grabbed the money and did a quick jump out the window and tumbled just inches from my car.

Mike and his boys had the upper hand now so I left with money in hand, but not before I threw the empty case in Carlos’s car. There was a man behind the wheel and he took off as soon as he had the case. Little did he know it was empty.

I went to the airport and was gone before Mike and the rest of the cops even knew it.

Saturday morning I landed in Mexico and checked my bags with no problems. And no, I didn’t have the money with me. It was safe in the bank I used in Las Vegas under my real name.

According to the newspaper account of what happened that day, Mike and his team busted the men making a drug deal. The driver of the getaway car was arrested the next day and the case, which should have had two million dollars in it, was empty. They assumed he stashed the money and would ask for a plea deal.

About two weeks later Mike also arrested Beverly Townsend as an accessory to the crimes as she owned the house they were working out of. At her trial she got off with a slap on the wrist since she had the house farmed out to a leasing company and supposedly had no idea about what was going on in it.

The publicity was enough to sink the agency and it went under less than six months later. Ms. Franklin joined the other private firm that had offered me a job and took most of her clients with her.

It took a year and a lot of TLC from Rose and Kenny to get me back looking anything like a man. Rose and Kenny are Ted’s mom and dad.

Just so you know how bad it was, the prosthetic vagina had been in place for 18 months or more, far longer than it was intended to be used. My pubic hair had actually grown back in through the air holes that let it breathe as such.

It took Rose three hours on the operating table to get it off of me and that was just the beginning. Because of my depleted or blocked male hormones, even after the implants were drained I still had slight breasts.

My balls were now about the size of small peanuts and my penis, when I could find it, was about the size of my thumb.

It took me well over a year to lose my female mannerisms and other things I had grown so used to doing. My hair was soon straight again, but I left it long like before. About the only thing I couldn’t undo was the hair removal process I had been through. According to Rose, in time I would get some of it back, but it would never be as thick as before.

It was time to go back now and there were still a few scores to settle if I could.

Oh, there was another thing I couldn’t undo. My figure still looked very feminine. My ribs had now shaped to the corset I had worn all that time, so I still had a very small waist. Rose didn’t offer much hope of that going away either, unless I packed on a lot of weight.

The day I left coming back to Vegas I told Rose, you just never know. Having a female figure might come in handy one day. We both laughed at the idea, but then it wasn’t so far fetched either.

Back in Vegas, I contacted Mike and started my career over again with the other agency where Ms. Franklin was now.

Mike said I was a fool for going anywhere near the woman. The evidence of what she had done was still all too easy to see.

“I will settle that account on my own terms,” I told Mike, “and with Jennifer and Dr. Joyce as well, when the time comes.”

“You can cross Jennifer off your list, my friend,” Mike sputtered.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, she was killed in a car wreck with Beverly Townsend the day after her probation was up.”

“Well, I suspect Dr. Joyce is still around,” I smiled.

“Yes, she is. She landed some big grant and started a clinic down off McCarran Blvd.”

“Any idea what the grant was for?” I asked.

“Same as before,” Mike shrugged his shoulders. “Making men into women one way or another,” he grinned.

To be continued.