The Princess of the Desert

By Melodie Thomas

Edited by Holly Hart

Chapter 4

Monday, September 8, 2008
My right fist slammed into the heavy bag as hard as I could throw it, and I felt the shockwave all the way to my toes. The bag did not move nearly as far as it had a half hour ago, when I started. My arms felt like lead, but I didn’t care if they fell off. However, my knees finally gave up on me as I fell into the bag, and I had to hang on, so I wouldn’t hit the floor. This has already been a shitty day, and it was not even noon yet.

I didn’t visit Atkins at all over the weekend. Actually, I didn’t go back to the hospital, nor did I go to work. I took the weekend off. I had been catching enough flak at the end of the week that I just didn’t want to deal with it. Stacy was at the hospital full time and Tina visited a couple of times, and both gave me updates, but those updates were very short, cold and to the point. There was no doubt that I was being considered the bad guy right now.

By the time Sunday night came around, I had convinced myself there was no way I was going to be able to continue being effective on this case, when everything I said or did would be looked at as an affront to Atkins, everyone’s Princess. No one thought I could deal with this situation and I was even beginning to doubt it myself.

I decided that when I got to work Monday morning I was going to call Holiday, and ask to be removed from the case. That all changed with the first email I’d opened this morning.

I had an email from the Cybercrime unit, which said they had found a video in which the participant seemed to have a similar brand on the right buttocks as our victims. How these guys can comb through the thousands upon thousands of porn videos that are currently on the web and identify 2 or 3 frames that trigger some search engine is well beyond me. The email requested that I show the video to Atkins to see if the players could be identified.

I downloaded the video to my laptop and launched it. The initial scene showed what appeared to be a woman in a very short dress being led into the room by a rope around her neck. The way she walked it was pretty easy to tell she was high on something. The person doing the leading appeared to be a white male but he was wearing a full hooded mask. The only identifying mark was a red lightning bolt tattoo on his right arm.

The woman’s ankles were handcuffed to a couple of rings on the floor that forced her to stand with her legs apart. Her hands were then hooked to a couple of chains hanging from the ceiling that resulted in standing with her legs spread and arms held over her head.

After the woman was bound, the man that led her in walked in front of her, grabbed her dress at the neckline and in one quick motion, tore the dress away from her. Standing naked, it was obvious this was not a woman but another TS or shemale. The man left the scene, only to be replaced by another man, similarly dressed but with no tattoo. The second man was carrying something, but I could not tell what it was.

I did not realize that I had the sound turned up on my computer. The sound that came out of that computer not only brought two other Agents charging into my office with weapons drawn, but pretty much set me up for nightmares for the next month. I could not get that video shut off fast enough to avoid getting the images trapped in my mind, and probably my nightmares.

Even with four years in the military and eight years with the FBI, I had never seen such raw, savage, brutality as I had just witnessed on my small computer screen. I sat in my chair and could not stop shaking. The shock and anger was over whelming. The person whose integrity I had been questioning had lived through brutality like this. I don’t know if my anger was now focused on the people responsible or on myself, but I now wanted these bastards, and I wanted them bad.

I grabbed my gym bag.

After showering, I called Tina and Paula to set up a time to meet with Atkins and review the video, we settled on 2pm.

At 1:15 I was sitting in my car in the hospital parking lot. I needed to talk to Atkins, preferably alone, to try to reach some level of a peace agreement. I needed him to solve this case, and I was determined to solve it. At the same time I was dreading showing this video. I didn’t think I was in a weakened emotional state and I knew what the video had done to me, I didn’t want to imagine what it would do to him. I still couldn’t get those images out of my head, and I had to see them again.

As I approached Atkins’ room, I saw that the door was open and I stopped in the doorway. Atkins was standing at the window looking out on the city. Her hair was brushed out and laying down her back while being held in a loose ponytail with a yellow ribbon. She was wearing a similar terry cloth robe as the last time I saw her, and it was pulled tight around her, highlighting her figure. No one else appeared to be in the room. The extended stay rooms were really small apartments, consisting of a living room with a separate bedroom and bathroom. The living area consisted of a sofa and two matching chairs with a television.

“Come on in, Agent McNeil. “Atkins said without turning from the window.

“I’m sorry” I responded, not sure what I was sorry for. “The door was open.”

“Yes,” Atkins responded turning towards me. I could see she was wearing makeup today, including pink lipstick. “I have dealt with enough closed doors. I like the freedom of having it open.”

I nodded my understanding and entered the room. Atkins motioned me to a chair and sat down in another chair opposite.

“Where is Stacy?” I asked

“She needed a break and wanted to go for a run.” Atkins responded. “I promised her I would stay in my room.”

The whole point of a protection detail was to stay with the principal. The fact that Stacy was not here bothered me and I would have to discuss it with her later. However, I also understood that we had not been able to provide support for her yet. But still, leaving a principal unprotected is not acceptable.

“I am glad you came.” Atkins said. “I was hoping to see you alone for a bit.”

The comment surprised me, I was expecting the opposite. “Why is that?”

“Because, we need to work together to find the people that kidnapped me, the fighting between us will not accomplish that.”

I smiled. “I was having the exact same thoughts, and that is the reason I came early today in hopes of talking to you, not so much in an official capacity.”

“Good, so we have the same goal.” Atkins smiled. “It would help if you would start calling me Stephanie.”

I nodded while I thought for a second. “I have a question, but I am not sure it is going to sound right when I ask it. So, please give me a little slack if it doesn’t.” I was actually proud of myself. I had thought before I opened my mouth for once.

“Okay, go ahead”

“Stephanie…, so does that mean you plan to stay as a…”

“Female?” Stephanie finished for me.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know the answer to that, Agent McNeil.”

“Dan, please.” I want to break these walls down too.

“Okay, ‘Dan’.” She smiled. I do like that smile. “The short answer to your question is … I don’t know. I guess I introduced myself to everyone as Stephanie when I woke up, and since then, that is the name everyone has addressed me by. When I look in a mirror, I don’t see Steven, I see Stephanie, so I may as well go with a name that matches what I look like.

“I have thought about this a lot over the last couple of days and I come to a couple of points. First what Doctor Gibson told me about what it would take to change me back, and the low chances of success, and second, the fact that your FBI probably would not let me change back now anyway.”

“What do you mean?” I was puzzled.

“I am evidence. I will be a key witness in any trial for anyone that is caught. The way I look is part of that evidence. Yes, that could be covered with pictures, but what better jury impact would there be then a victim of forced feminization sitting on the stand telling the story? Therefore, I think the FBI, prosecutors and everyone else involved in the case would wish to do everything they could to keep me as I am until after such trials are over.”

She had a point I had not thought about, but I could see things playing out just that way. Becoming what she is, was maybe not her choice, and staying this way may not be her choice either. We could never ‘force’ it, but I know the lengths some may go to in ‘suggesting’ it.

“So,” Stephanie continued, “I am guessing that I will probably be required to live as Stephanie for at least a year, if not longer. With that in mind, I may as well just accept it, for now, and take my time with any final decisions.

“Now, she smiled, “My new keepers, and I say that in a good way, are doing the best they can to feminize me as well. The hair and the makeup are all Stacy, with Paula’s help. The interesting part is I don’t mind, I don’t find playing the role all that uncomfortable. I will be honest, that surprises me.

“Given all of that, I would prefer to just be called Stephanie for now. It is just a name, and using it, should not imply agreement or acknowledgment of my femininity, or whatever else is bothering you. Can you do that?”

I thought about it for a minute. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Stephanie smiled as she took off her slippers and pulled her feet up under her in the chair. The way she was sitting there exhibited female posture, and it looked natural, not like she was putting on a show.

“Dan, I thank you for the honesty. I am going to ask you to do me a favor and always be honest with me., on what you think, what you feel and what you know. That is the only way that you and I are going to be able to keep working together, and I will do the same for you.”

“Alright, I promise to be as honest with you as I can be.” I replied, after a moment, “So, another question, if you don’t mind, since Friday, you seem to be accepting all of this fairly well.”

That earned me a laugh. I like her laugh too.

“Dan,” Stephanie chuckled, “Then I should be given an academy award. The most unfeminine thing I am doing right now is hiding my emotions. No, I am hurt. I am sick, and I am terrified, but I am forcing my way through it. I could easily become a blubbering, babbling idiot, but that will not get the people that did this caught, nor will it get my friends back. I am still suffering from the drug withdrawals, I have more aches in my body than I can count, and I am scared to death they are going to come back after me.” The smile faded and an aurora of sadness came over her. “I am also terrified about what I am going to learn about myself.”

“That last part bothers you more than the rest of it, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. I just can’t fathom that I did the things that I remember doing. I think that is the worst part, at least for me.”

“How much are you remembering?”

“I seem to be getting bits and pieces, more like flashes than specific memories. Before you ask, I really don’t want to talk about them right now. We can later but, right now I am just enjoying the visit.”

We sat silently for a moment. “Can you tell me,” Atkins started, “What it is about me that angers you so much?”

I had thought about this a little on the way to the hospital. Should I tell my story? Would that help build some rapport? It was not really something I wanted to talk about, while at the same time, I really needed to get Atkins to work with me, and I needed to work with her. If I showed that I am willing to show something of myself, it may build a stronger relationship. I need her to trust me, and, I guess, that trust has to go both ways.

I sighed, “There is nothing about you, specifically, that I am angry with. You just symbolize something that I am against for personal reasons.”

“Is it too much to ask that you share that with me? Maybe if I understand where you are coming from it will make things easier too.”

I stood up and started pacing the room, thinking to myself. I walked over and softly closed the door.

“It is not necessary,” Stephanie said, “if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I was twelve years old when my father died in an oil well fire in Texas.” I started. “That left only my mother, my brother and me, as the youngest. My male model in life, growing up through my teens was my brother Ben. He taught me to play ball, he taught me to work, he taught me to fight and he taught me to chase girls. He was the man, he was my idol, and he taught me to be a man. All I wanted to do is grow up and be as good as Ben was at everything. I worshiped the ground he walked on, even into our twenties, he was still my idol.”

“So what happened?”

I stopped pacing and stood looking out the window. I was not sure I wanted to answer that question, but I had to. “About three years ago, Ben announced that he had been living a lie all his life and he was really a girl in a man’s body. He started dressing like a girl and changed his name to Brenda, and now lives full time as a female. The entire foundation that I had modeled my life after collapsed in a single day. Somebody had to have done this too him. Ben would not have done this himself. But I don’t know who they are. I don’t know who to defend him from. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Now,” Stephanie said quietly, “you strike out at the symbols that you see, like me.”

“If everything was a lie,” I continue, “Then what was everything he taught me? What were the times we spent together? Then, of course, there was dealing with the rest of the family and friends. How I was supposed to be supportive? How? Is he still my brother, or sister? Hell, I don’t know. But I was supposed to be supportive of what? A lie? Something that was not real?”

I didn’t know what else to say, so I stood there staring out the window.

“When was the last time you talked to your brother?” Stephanie asked.

“Three years ago.”

“So, you think your brother was taken by some indeterminate ‘they,’ and now every symbol you see of the gay or transgender world is lumped into the general category of ‘they’, and you fight them in hope of bringing your brother back?”

I couldn’t help but smile, as that was the same thing I had heard from therapists in the past. I returned to my chair. “Are you a psychiatrist as well as a lawyer?”

“No,” Stephanie smiled, “I am neither a psychiatrist nor a lawyer. Actually, I am pretty much of a nothing. But, I think I understand you better now.”

I was about to comment on her ‘pretty much of a nothing’ statement when the door to her room suddenly burst open and Stacy charged in.

“Stephanie! Are you okay?” Stacy called as she rushed to Stephanie’s side. I needed body armor to hide from the looks I was getting.

“I am fine, Stacy.” Stephanie said as she patted Stacy’s hand. “Dan and I were just having a conversation. Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” Stacy continued to give me icy stares.

“Yeah,” I responded, “Just a good thing I wasn’t a shooter.” giving Stacy the same stare in return.

Just then I heard more sounds behind me and turned to see Paula and Tina entering the room.

“What,” I asked, “did you need to call in the Cavalry?”

Tina and Paula gave each other a puzzled look. “We are just here to see the video.” Tina said.

I looked at my watch and it was ten minutes till the hour. I had been here a half hour already, but it sure didn’t feel like it. Both Tina and Paula went to Stephanie to exchange greetings and compliment her on how she looked. The image that popped into my mind was of three lionesses surrounding the cub. I was the jackal.

While they all chatted I pulled out my laptop and turned it on. I was really not looking forward to this. I pulled a coffee table between Stephanie and myself to use for the laptop. Stacy moved over to the couch, Paula stood by the windows behind Atkins, and Tina sat on the arm of my chair.

“Okay, Stephanie,” I said to start. “The FBI lab in Washington found a video that they think has one of the… ‘girls’,” I searched for the right word, “… that was taken by the same group that had you. I need to show this to you and see if you can identify any of the people in it.”

Atkins nodded.

Not being the totally heartless bastard that some seemed to think I am, before coming to see Stephanie, I’d edited the video clip to show only the first couple of minutes, stopping it before the brutality started. The three key players could be seen in that part, and there was no point of everyone else seeing the same images in their dreams, as I was going to see mine.

As the video started and the girl was being led into the room, Atkins’ hands covered his mouth. “No, no, no, no!!” She started shaking uncontrollably.

Tears were already rolling off of her face as she acted like she was trying to back up to get away from the screen. When the girl’s dress was ripped off, Stephanie jumped as if she was trying to run, sobbing hysterically. Without her shoes, her balance was off, and she fell toward the couch. Her chair tipped over backwards as she tried to get away. Paula, Tina and I all reacted, but Stacy was closest and wrapped Stephanie in her arms.

“Shut that damn thing off!” she demanded as she tried to hold Atkins.

I closed the lid to the laptop. Both Tina and Paula were trying to help settle Atkins down. I just stood there feeling like shit.

“Dan,” Tina said, “I think you need to leave for a while.”

“No, I want him to stay.” Stephanie sobbed. I could tell she was fighting to regain control. “Help me up, please,” She requested as she tried to get up on the couch.

Paula and Stacy helped her to the couch. Stacy sat beside her with an arm around Atkins. Paula sat on the other side.

“Well Dan,” Stephanie sniffled, “doesn’t look like I have as much control of those emotions we were talking about.” She was still shaking badly.

I sat back down. “I am sorry,” was all I could say, but that just did not seem like enough.

Stephanie took a couple of moments to get her breathing under control, but she was still shaking badly. “That must have been hard for you, Dan. I can see it in your eyes. I knew her as Erin, and she told me once she was from Boston.”

“Did you know her male name?” I asked quietly.

“No, we were not allowed to talk in the rooms. Sometimes we could communicate by writing in the dirt on the floor and share a little about each other.” Her tears were still flowing.

“Erin was in my room,” Stephanie continued. “Then one day she never came back.” The sobbing starting again while Stacy held her.

“Maybe we should take a break.” Paula suggested.

“No!” Stephanie tried to get her control back.

“Stephanie,” I spoke as softly as I could, “I am sorry, but do you remember her number?”

Nodding her head she whispered, “Yes, she was number 21. They kept us together in groups based on our numbers. Erin, Lucy, Vicky and me. Numbers 21, 22, 23 and 24.” We were all kept in the same room.” Her tears were flowing freely, but she kept trying to control them.

I looked at Tina, who was busy writing notes. We’d found that body outside of Phoenix six months earlier. This video had been shot locally.

“What about the men in the video?” Tina asked.

“The one with the tattoo was Charlie, a sadistic bastard. He was Anne’s assistant. I met him before I was taken. The other one I don’t know.”

“Why couldn’t you talk to each other?” Paula asked

“It was the rules,” Stephanie answered through her tears, “If anyone was caught talking, all of us would get the whip and would not be fed that day. I think they had microphones in the room. Sometimes we could whisper but were often caught doing that too.”

“Were you always in the same room?” I asked

Stephanie shook her head, “No. In the beginning, we would be taken somewhere in an airplane and some of the flights were very long. We were locked into a seat, and always had to wear a hood, so I have no idea where we went. Some of it is very hard to remember, because they kept us drugged most of the time, so we either slept or were very disoriented. I just don’t remember.”

We all sat quietly for a minute.

“Dan?” Stephanie asked. “What happened to Erin?”

There are days when all you want to do is crawl in a hole and pull the world in after you. Today was one of those days. I looked at Tina, who nodded, so I told Stephanie what we knew. Fifteen minutes later, Paula had to give Stephanie a sedative. I packed up my laptop, told Tina to call in to the conference with an update and left the room while the women took care of Atkins. There was not much for me to do there.

I took an hour to get my thoughts and notes organized before sending out the page to establish a conference bridge with the various departments that were involved in this case. This time I included the Boston office. We needed to share notes, discoveries on activities and directions, so everyone would have all the information. Mike Holiday would be included in the call along with the head of the Cybercrime unit, various medical experts, and representatives from D.C., New Mexico, Texas, California and Colorado.

We started the call with a discussion of what we had learned from the video. The Boston office would contact the local police and get a listing of all missing person reports for a one-year period prior to Atkins being taken. The focus would be the two to three months just prior to that, but we needed to be thorough. Based on estimation of the video, we were looking for someone in their late teens, early twenties, less than 6 feet tall, with a weight of 150 or below. If we could get an identity on the victim, not only would we be able to give one poor family closure, we would have a new background to dig through in the hope of finding common links.

The second topic was the video itself. With confirmation that the video was from the organization we were looking for, the boys in the back room could start a more detailed search for various indicators connected to the web file. They could trace the video through various servers around the country in an attempt find the source. It was clear that the odds of this happening with a single video were small but being able to narrow the search window, might help find other videos. The more videos that could be found, the better the chances of finding the source. We also discussed that the video we’d found is what is referred to as a ‘snuff’ video, not simply a pornography video, and, most likely had to come from a site that charged for membership. All agreed the search windows needed to be enlarged to cover that area of the garbage on the internet.

The last topic was the piece of information that we had on the airstrip that Stephanie had referenced twice. Agents in California, New Mexico, Arizona and Texas were attempting to compile a list of all known properties that had private airfields. We also discussed how to generate a listing of places with homemade airfields that might not be registered, and with Mexico just 150 miles to our south, what we could find about anything just across the border. Washington would put in a request to the State Department to work through the embassy in Mexico attempting to get the Mexican government’s permission, and assistance in searching the areas just south of the U.S. borders.

Tina and I argued that the focus of the search needed to be in Arizona, southern New Mexico or just over the border in Mexico. Our argument, based on Stephanie being found alive, was she could not have survived more than an hour or two in the back of that truck. Therefore, the focus area needed to be in a two to four hour drive from where Atkins had been found. The medical experts agreed with the theory, so a priority search grid was established with the highest priority focused around this last dumpsite.

After the conference call ended, I called Tina and discussed the issue of Stacy leaving Atkins unguarded. I thought it best if Tina discussed the topic with Stacy, as my relationship with Stacy was strained right now. We also agreed that we would not make a major issue of it but that Stacy needed to understand leaving her principal unguarded was not acceptable.

Once I hung up after talking to Tina, I called Mike Holiday and stressed how critical it was that we had another female agent assigned that could rotate with Stacy. We were tasking Stacy twenty-four hours a day, and that was not maintainable. Mike promised me he would do the best he could at getting us another resource.

Tina walked back in to the office late in the afternoon. “Hey,” I greeted her, “how is she?”

“Hey, yourself,” she responded as she sat at her desk. “Pretty torn up, but I think she is pretty tough and will pull through.”

“To live through what she has, tough is an understatement.”

“She asked about you,” Tina said, flipping through some papers on her desk.

“About me?”

“Yep, she saw you were hurting this afternoon. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Tina looked up at me. “You okay?”

I closed my computer and stood up. “Wasn’t a fun day, partner, wasn’t a fun day.” I walked out of the office and went home. I had an appointment with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Saturday, September 13, 2008
A couple of small breaks occurred in the case since Monday. The cyber boys were able to trace the video to a server in Montreal, Canada. The Canadian police, always cooperative with us, served a search warrant on the house where the video originated and our agents were part of the raid. Unfortunately, all they found was that the video we saw was a remade copy of a different video. Now the dark room boys were off chasing the second video to see where it may lead.

The missing person search in Boston has resulted in a possible identification of our victim but forensics still needs to verify it. The potential victim was Robert Melons, a 20 year old Engineering student at MIT, who was reported missing on May 3, 2005, when he failed to return home from school. Dental records and other evidence was being shipped to Phoenix to compare against the autopsy findings. A preliminary background check began, but until we could notify the parents with positive results, there was only a limited amount that can be done.

Over the past few days, Tina, Stacy and I have been having ‘gentle’ conversations with Adkins. By ‘gentle’, I mean we don’t ask any questions and just let Stephanie tell us what she remembered. We realized, quickly, that she had little recognition of time. Between the drugs and isolation, it was not possible for her to understand durations or, in some cases, what events occurred before others. We started capturing the individual memories on separate pieces of paper, and trying to piece them together like a puzzle. Her memories for a single event could come at two different times, so we tried to collect common things like room descriptions, faces, and dress colors, anything she could remember. Write those on an index card we could then compare them to other index cards as a way to find conjoining memories. Perhaps we could rebuild the past events, one index card at a time.

That is not to imply the process has been easy for Stephanie, it has not. As the memories of things that could help us resurface, so do the memories of what was done to her during those events. In discussions with Stacy and Paula I had learned that Stephanie is very hard on herself for many of those activities, though everyone keeps telling her it wasn’t her fault. I am not sure she is seeing it that way.

Thursday, I received a call from Holiday that a new agent has been assigned to our team. The new agent is 31 year old Mary Scotts, a ten year veteran of the FBI with five years field experience. Having an experienced agent work with Stacy will be good for her. Mike also told me that we were moving Atkins to a three-bedroom apartment a block away from the hospital. Both Stacy and Mary would live with Atkins and it is close enough to the hospital for Atkins to continue to see Paula.

The new apartment brought with it another problem. Stephanie did not have any clothes. I discussed the issue with Mike and he was able to get $200 from the victims fund for Atkins. Tina saw that and went ballistic, there was no way they could buy decent women’s clothes for that little. I told her I would call Mike back, and the next day handed her a pre-paid Visa card with $5000 on it, but Tina had to go do the shopping, like that broke her heart.

Mary arrived in Tucson and I met her at the office. She is about the same size as Tina but with short dark hair that barely covered her ears. We spent about an hour in the office reviewing the case files, and then I had Mary follow me to the hospital. We were going to meet with Tina, Stacy, Paula and Stephanie for lunch, and then move them to the apartment.

The door to Stephanie’s room was open as usual, so I knocked and walked in. As I entered, Stephanie walked out of her bedroom, and I think my jaw bounced off the floor. Her hair had been brushed behind her shoulders in gentle waves, so I knew it had been styled. She was wearing a white dress with small black dots, and black 4” open toe heels. I had never seen her with anything but the terry cloth robe on, damn.

When she saw me she walked up to me. “Do I look as weird as I feel?” she asked with that killer smile.

“Weird, is not have been the word I would have used,” I stuttered.

“Sure feels weird to me.” she said as she turned and walked back across the room.

I was watching her walk away when I felt a bump on my left elbow. I turned to see Tina walk past.
“Stop drooling, McNeil” she said as she passed me.

I am sure I turned the color of a ripe tomato at that point.

Mary came in behind me and I introduce her to everyone there. We were still waiting for Paula. Mary and Stacy had just gone into the bedroom to have a discussion when Paula walked in.

“Everyone ready for lunch?” Paula asked.

“On one condition,” Stephanie said. “We go somewhere besides the hospital cafeteria. I know I should not be that picky but, I am tired of the food from that place.”

We debated it for a few minutes and decided a small sidewalk café just down the road would be good. Mary and Stacy came back and told us they would not be joining us for lunch. They were going to move the suitcases to the apartment and then walk around the apartment complex and neighborhood.

As the four of us exited the front door of the hospital, Tina and Stephanie were leading, with Paula and I walking a bit behind them. Stephanie almost seemed to have a skip in her step, and did not seem to be having any problems with the high heels.

“She seems to be feeling good today.” I said to Paula

Paula smiled, “It’s called freedom, Dan. Remember, this is probably the first time she has been outside, on her own, in over three years.”

No, I had not thought of that and it actually made me feel good to see her that happy. It only took ten minutes for us to reach the café and select an outside table. Tina and Stephanie sat opposite Paula and me. Lunch was served and the conversation just flowed about general things, mostly between Stephanie and the two girls. Tina was telling stories about her kids and Paula would be telling stories about her work and or vacations. I couldn’t help but wonder what this was like for Stephanie, to be listening the lives of others, while hers had been taken away from her. Yet, she was acting happy and seemed to be truly enjoying the moment.

“You know what I really want?” Stephanie said while finishing her sandwich. “A good barbeque. I love barbeque and, well, I haven’t had it in a while.” I could see a flash of sadness cross her face.

“If you want good barbeque,” Tina said, “then you need to talk Danny boy there into cooking for you. He does a killer barbeque, ribs and brisket.”

“Really?” Paula asked

“You have what,” Tina continued, addressing me, “two smokers built into your backyard?”

“Well, then you will have to cook for us,” Paula said.

I smiled. “I am sure we can arrange something.”

“When?” Stephanie asked, “That would be fun, if you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Tina jumped in, “He loves to show off his cooking skills on those things.”

It’s true, I do. “I don’t know, how about next weekend?” I said, just throwing something out there.

“I will find someone to take make kids,” Tina said. “Paula, Stephanie, you okay with that?”

Around the table agreement was reached that next weekend I would be hosting a barbeque at my place. Paula said she would not be bringing a date, so it would be Stephanie, Paula, Tina and her husband, Stacy and Mary if they wanted to come.

Lunch lasted about another half hour before Stacy and Mary walked up, ready to escort Stephanie to her new home. After Stephanie left, Paula needed to get back to her office leaving Tina and me alone.

“You did good, Danny boy.” Tina looked at me.

“What do you mean?”

“The money, the clothes, lunch and offering to barbeque. Don’t bother denying the money, either. Mike called me, and apologized that he could not get more. There is only one place it could have come from.”

I looked at my drink, “Does Stephanie know?”

“No. I figured if you wanted her to know you would have told her. Why did you do it, Dan?”

“I don’t know, I guess she just deserved to have a little bit, considering the hell she has been through.”

Tina thought for a moment. “You okay with the transsexual thing? With Atkins living as a girl?”

I smiled, “No, Tina, I am not magically cured of my bias. I still don’t understand it, and I’m not sure I ever will. But, it is not a battle that I am interested in fighting right now. I want the guys that did this to Atkins and the others. Atkins will make up her own mind at some point what she is. Not my issue.”

“Okay, but you still did good.”

In my own mind, the separation was not as clear as I’d told Tina. I had never known Atkins as anything but a girl, and I was still having a hard time remembering which he or she really was. All I saw is a female, but I knew what was under the clothes.