Synopsis: Guys are turning up dead, and the cops have no leads. Who is this very mysterious serial killer, and are BB's customers on the list?

Note — this story was posted previously on another web site. It is posted on BCTS for the first time. It is also a little darker than most of my stories, but I wanted a change. This fits before "In the Beginning" in the story sequence. Note that this is a little darker than I usually write, but life isn't always sweetness and light.

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This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

The club was busy, but not as busy as it normally was on a Friday night in the early summer. Guys sat in groups, watching the girls, as was the usual order of business. It was evident to the bartenders that the conversations had an edge, that people seemed a bit ... wary. Sure, the guys were asking girls to dance, and buying them drinks, and picking them up, as was the normal goal of single guys. But everything seemed to be less relaxed, more cautious.

Then she walked in.

Her tight, short leather skirt and a bright red tank top beneath a black vest, displaying her ample and firm breasts separated by a valley of cleavage, was as provocative as it was daring. Her long dark ponytail reached down to her firm derriere. Even in her three-inch heels, she seemed to glide across the floor with a grace that was mesmerizing and enticing. There was not a flaw in her features, and apart from light eye shadow and lipstick, it was impossible to tell if her skin was that perfect, or if her makeup was that skillfully applied.

Every male eye in the club tracked her like a compass tracking the North Pole. Conversations halted abruptly, drinks were held in mid-sip. Confidently, she walked to a small two-person table, and with merely a smile, she caused the guys seated there to hastily leap to their feet and offer her their seats.

Conversations between men and women halted, leaving only low murmurings from the women present, cattily tearing into the vision of sexiness that had so rudely interrupted the goings-on of the club. It was as if all women in the club had ceased to exist - except for _her_.

After a long wait, while the guys eyeballed and measured and watched the woman, each secretly evaluating his chances with her, one guy finally mustered up his courage and walked to her table. He knew that every eye was on him, some hoping to see him shot down, others envious that he'd managed to get up the nerve. With every bit of visible self-assurance he could summon, he asked the woman if she'd like a drink. She sat silently for a moment while she scanned up and down his body, as if checking him out. It was to his profound relief, and the chagrin of every other male present, that she smiled and nodded.

Before long, he was on the dance floor with the woman. Others tried to cut in, to get a dance, to talk with her, but she refused. She had clearly marked the guy as her property for the evening.

Late into the night, as they danced a slow dance, the woman whispered in the guy's ear. Was there a place they could go - to be alone? The guy's heart leaped into his throat; he'd been hoping against hope that he'd have a chance to score with this ultra-babe, and now _she_ was the one asking him. He quickly said yes. But ... his buddy had come with him. The woman smiled. Give the buddy his car keys. He could pick up his car in the morning. The suggestion was perfect, and the guy nearly tripped over himself getting his car keys to his buddy. Then, to the envy of all, he walked out with the woman on his arm.

**********

Jana sighed wearily as she stepped into the bright sunlight. Police crime-scene tape cordoned off the area, and that alone attracted curiosity seekers who were gathering on the street outside the town home. She sighed again. One think she knew for certain - the gathering crowd did _not_ want to know the details of this crime.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" her partner, a short and stocky man asked.

Jana nodded glumly. "I'm afraid so, Roy. The MO matches perfectly. I'm afraid we're dealing with a serial killer."

Roy Jenkins sighed. This was _not_ going to go over well downtown. "Yeah, that's what I figured, too."

Jana shook her head. "It's like ..." Her words stopped abruptly and her eyes narrowed as she spied a news reporter focusing on them. "Let's go downtown," she suddenly said.

Roy knew exactly what she was up to. With a news hound nearby, the last thing they needed to do was to discuss the facts of the case in a public venue. That was a task for someone higher-up. They climbed into Jana's car.

"It's like ... I don't know," Jana continued as soon as the car was rolling. "I've never heard of anything like it."

"Kind of like the cattle mutilations?" Roy speculated. He saw Jana's confused look. "Quite a few years ago, farmers in the Midwest reported cattle strangely mutilated. Parts surgically removed, in the middle of fields, and with no trace."

Jana pushed away the embarrassment that threatened. "Yeah. But that's the Midwest. That's not here. Guys aren't supposed to turn up dead, with their ... penises ... cut off and their testicles missing."

Roy visibly flinched as her words, as any normal male would have. "You think it might be some kind of cult or something?"

Jana sighed. "We'll see what the forensics team digs up. But ...." That one word verbalized the doubt both of the detectives were feeling.

Roy opened a notepad. "Where to? Check out the friend?"

Jana nodded. "Yeah. It's as good a place to start as any." She sighed again. "We'll see if he remembers anything else, but somehow, I doubt he will. By his own admission, he was pretty drunk and doesn't remember a lot."

**********

Norma glanced up from her magazine at the sound of a customer clearing his throat. "Oh, hi," she said, quickly donning a warm smile. "Uh, we don't get a lot of customers this late, so I wasn't ..."

The guy shifted nervously. "Yes, I know," he said softly. "But ... well, you know, with the ... murders ..."

Norma nodded in understanding. Three consecutive weekends, three unsolved murders. All single guys, and all were rather ... gruesome. After the news of the third murder had broken, she secretly thanked the fates for protecting her from such an end. The fates ... and Grandmother.

The guy cleared his throat again. "Yeah, but, well, I figured I shouldn't take any chances." He forced a laugh, which echoed nervously. "Unless I want to be a hermit, I figured it was safer to go out after, uh, you know..."

Even though, at first glance, the guy didn't look like he'd be singled out, she understood why he might be nervous. One of the victims had been stereotypically nerdish, like this guy. Even a nerd wasn't safe.

Norma nodded, showing the friendly smile that Grandmother expected of her employees. "One or two?"

The guy started. "Huh? Oh. How long. One day." He seemed to know how the park operated.

Norma took his money and rang up the sale. "Kind of eerie, isn't it," she said, making conversation while she was waiting for the ticket to print.

The guy nodded. "And the police haven't got any clues." He shuddered visibly. "I know _I_ wouldn't go out without ..." he smiled nervously as he glanced at the gate, "you know."

Norma nodded. "You're not the only one," she said as she handed him the ticket. "I think a lot of guys are a bit nervous." She gestured to the gate. "I gather you know how it works? Slide your card, change in the men's room, and shower before you leave?"

The man smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I've done this a couple of times before." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "The first time, a friend tricked me. But, well, I guess it was okay. And now, it's ... well, it's kind of like a lifesaver." He frowned, as if he'd said too much, and scurried off toward the gate.

**********

Jana stared forlornly into her coffee mug, ignoring the taco salad in front of her. She just shook her head back and forth, her lips pursed tightly together and her eyes narrowed in frustration.

"Jana, if I'd have wanted to eat alone, I wouldn't have invited you," Anya said playfully as she watched her friend.

Jana looked up suddenly, startled. "Oh?" She shook off some mental cobwebs. "Sorry. I've just been thinking."

Anya didn't need to read minds to know what Jana was thinking about. "Still no leads?"

Jana shook her head. "There's no pattern." She sounded frustrated; in reality, her voice conveyed only a tiny fraction of her emotions. "The first victim - middle-aged, recent divorcee. Picked up at the golf club, then murdered at his house. Second victim - twenty-eight, single, computer engineer. Picked up at a nightclub and then murdered in his apartment. Third victim - fifty-five year old African-American, retired Army sergeant, working at a halfway house." She looked down at the table, her head shaking. "In all three cases, nothing was stolen, nothing was missing. And there is _no_ connection among any of the victims. It's like they were chosen at random."

Anya forced a smile. "Sometimes, it's better to be a girl."

Jana saw through the phony display of bravado. "The press is having a field day with this. You know, incompetent police department and so on."

Anya nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I know. You know what the press is calling it? The 'Black Widow' murders."

Jana grimaced. "Yeah, that's what we've heard."

**********

"Shit!" Roy exclaimed in frustration as he pulled up to the condo. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Jana forgave his profanities. In truth, her frustration would have led to vocal outbursts that made his profanity look tame. "I was hoping it was over."

Roy looked around the gathering of news reporters and swore again. "So was I." They'd hoped, after a weekend without one of the brutal murders, that the crime spree was ended. That hope was dashed. "Well, shall we go look?"

Jana shook her head. "I'd rather not...."

Roy understood her. "Bet he's naked, on bed on his back, and with his ... organ ... severed?"

Jana nodded glumly. "And no clues." The two climbed from Roy's car and ducked under the 'crime scene' tape, carefully avoiding reporters and microphones as they did so. Jana walked up to an officer by the door. "Forensics given it the once-over?"

The uniformed officer nodded. "Yeah. They got done about ten minutes ago."

"Anything?"

The officer shook his head. "They didn't sound too positive. Some prints, but nothing else."

"Maybe the bitch that did this nicked herself on the knife this time," Roy offered. "It'd be nice to get a clue."

Another officer joined the group. "Roy, Jana," he greeted them politely and informally.

"What've we got," Roy asked. "Same thing?"

The new officer nodded. "Multiple stab wounds to the chest and torso. And the mutilation. Same as the others."

"Meat wagon got the ... victim yet?" Jana asked.

"You just missed them."

Jana felt a shudder of relief. She hadn't wanted to look at another victim. She shook her head. "We'll get the reports from the coroner and from Forensics," she said quickly. She could tell Roy was equally relieved that there wasn't a body to view and examine.

Roy took a look at one of the officer's notebooks. "No witnesses?"

"Just a friend who was out with the guy."

Jana nodded. "Let's go have a talk with this friend," she said, a little too hastily, she realized almost as soon as she'd spoken.

They ducked back under the yellow tape, and the media descended on them like a swarm of locusts.

"Have you got new leads?"

"Is this another of the 'Black Widow' murders?"

"Is there any truth to the rumor that this is the work of a deranged prostitute?"

Roy turned and held up his hands, gesturing for silence. The reporters slowly hushed. "I have nothing to say except that an investigation is under way. Official news will come from downtown." He spun, even as the questions resumed at rapid-fire pace.

"Damned maggots!" Roy cursed after his door had slammed shut.

Jana shook her head sadly. "Some people would say that they're just doing their jobs."

"Damned gruesome jobs," Roy said bitterly.

They drove in silence to another apartment building. It was a short walk to the second-floor landing. The door opened a crack after the two knocked. "Yes?"

Roy and Jana flashed their badges. "Police," Roy said solemnly. "We'd like to talk to you about Mister Williams."

The man nodded, then closed the door, unlatched the burglar latch, and opened the door again. "Come in, please," he said. He sounded almost mechanical, and his face looked pale and haggard. He gestured toward the sofa. "Would you like to sit down?"

Jana nodded in the direction of the dining table. "It'd probably be easier at the table," she offered. "Writing notes, you see."

"I already talked to an officer," the man said, a touch defensively.

Jana nodded. "I know. We're following up."

"You don't think I ...?"

Roy shook his head. "We don't have any suspects ... yet."

"We need to interview anyone who had contact with Mister Williams last evening. And you were one of the last to see him."

The man digested what she'd said. "Yeah," he finally answered. "We were at a party last night."

"Did you see him leave?"

The man shook his head. "No. A couple of guys and I were on the other side of the hall."

"Did you see him with anyone?"

The man closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "Lou was ... dancing. With a pretty good looking girl."

Jana frowned; she could tell her partner was thinking the exact same thing. Black Widow. "Did you get a good look at her?"

The man closed his eyes again and concentrated. "I'm not sure. We'd ... well, we were kind of drunk. And there were lots of people." He opened his eyes, and Jana could see just how sunken and lifeless he looked. "She was ... sexy. Really, really sexy. Medium height, knock-out body. Long black hair. And black mini-skirt and vest." He shook his head. "That's about all I remember."

"Would you mind coming downtown with us?" Roy asked slowly. "We'd like you to talk to a sketch artist." He fought to keep his hopes from rising. Most police sketches were wildly inaccurate, drawing as they did from the memories of distraught people. But this was the first case someone had even a _vague_ description. Any lead was better than what they had so far.

**********

Anya walked quickly toward the booth, her expression growing more concerned with each passing step. There was a line of guys at the booth - a _long_ line. She opened the door and stepped into the small building. "What's up, Vicky?" she asked quickly, glancing out through the glass at the line of men.

Vicky glanced outside, then she looked at Anya. "The computer says we've sold our allotment of passes for the day," she reported. "But these guys are getting pretty insistent." She nodded toward the window, where a nerdish-looking guy stood impatiently.

"We want to buy passes," he demanded. "Me and my friend here - we need them."

Anya nodded slowly. "You've been here several times before, haven't you?" she asked cautiously.

The guy seemed taken aback that Anya knew him - or at least that he was a repeat customer. "That's right," he confirmed. "But ... look, I've been a loyal customer, and you should encourage repeat customers!"

"You understand that we can only allow a certain number of people in the park. And since most of our customers are women with memberships, we have to limit the number of ... guests ... we permit."

The guy shook his head angrily. "I don't want to go _in_ your damned park!" he barked. "I just want to change ... so I don't end up ... dead!" Despite his façade of anger, he was clearly afraid, and his voice nearly cracked.

Anya saw the others within earshot nodding their agreement. The murmuring of the guys was getting more intense, hinting of unpleasantness if something weren't done, and quickly. Anya glanced back at the guys. "Sell them," she said firmly. She ducked out the door and rounded the corner. "Come here a moment, please."

The guy looked concerned, then he pocketed his pass and stepped away from the window. "What?" he asked, confusion showing on his features. He looked like a bookkeeper - late twenties or early thirties, small frame, modest height, glasses, neatly trimmed hair.

Anya shook her head. "It's nothing bad. It's just that, well, you can't bring every guy you meet here."

The guy frowned. "Why not? We have every right to be safe from that ... that murderer!"

Anya conceded his point. "But this is a private park. We can't support the entire male population of this city!" She shook her head. "And you guys can't go around living your lives in fear. You can't hide forever!"

The guy scowled. "You'd be singing a different tune if it were women being murdered!"

Anya shook her head again. "There are other ways to deal with this. Stay in groups. Don't pick up strange women. Be ... safe."

"That's easy for some people," the guy said, his voice almost angry. "But for those of us who are single, we need to meet girls. We need to have some ... fun!"

Anya shook her head sadly. "If you're going to take chances, you're going to have to deal with the risks." She glanced at all the guys. "You _know_ that you and the other guys won't remember anything, don't you?"

The guy looked a little defiant. "Better chance not remembering one night than being dead."

"And there are risks," Anya continued. His eyes widened, and she nodded. "I can tell you've had sex ... as a woman." The guy dropped his gaze as his face flushed crimson. Anya's voice was non-judgmental, almost kind. "And that's _your_ business. But do you know that if you do that, and get pregnant, you'll never be able to change back?"

He looked up, startled. "No," he answered softly. "I ... I didn't know."

"You got fifteen or sixteen guys here today. How many of them are going to try sex as a woman tonight? How many of them _might_ end up pregnant?" Anya shook her head. "That would pretty much ruin their lives, wouldn't it?"

He nodded slowly. "Maybe. But not as much as being dead."

Anya sighed heavily. "I see your point. But if you've brought any guys that end up stuck, it's _your_ fault. Can you live with that?" Anya left him mulling her words and walked back to the office.

"What was that all about, dear?" Grandmother's voice called out even before the door was all the way shut.

Anya sighed, and then she slumped into a stuffed chair opposite Grandmother's desk. "A line of guys wanted passes. They were getting a little ... unruly."

Grandmother nodded. "You can't blame them," she observed. "Besides, our take for the last two weekends is up."

Anya shook her head. "That's not the point," she complained.

Grandmother smiled sadly. "That's _exactly_ the point," she chided. "Look, how do you think Greg feels?"

Anya thought of her boyfriend. "I don't think Greg's worried at all," she replied quickly.

Grandmother nodded. "But how do you think he'd feel if he didn't have you? If he were ... unattached?" She watched a dawning recognition spread across Anya's face as the girl contemplated her words. "You see, dear, even if they won't admit it, the guys are terrified. They're feeling a fear like they've never felt before. No matter how brave they're trying to act, they're scared. No one knows what woman is doing this. They aren't safe ... anywhere."

**********

Jana stretched on the lounge chair beside the Lagoon. It was her day off, and she was trying desperately to relax. But the case just wouldn't leave her thoughts. "It could be any one of _thousands_ of women," she sighed.

Anya and Jenny, on either side of Jana, frowned. On the one hand, they knew their friend needed a break. On the other, they also knew how this case was nagging at her. "No leads?"

Jana shook her head sadly. "The guys always leave with the girl. No one has seen her car. We've only got two composite sketches, and they're so different, it's unbelievable." She turned abruptly toward Anya. "I wish I had your powers," she said wistfully. "Because nothing we've tried has yielded a single clue."

Anya sighed. "Look, if you're going to talk work, you might as well go in to the office. I thought we were going to relax."

Jana shook her head slowly. "I'm trying. But ... I can't get them out of my mind."

Jenny frowned. "Who?"

Jana closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "The victims."

**********

"I ... I can't go through with it." The blonde girl leaned closer to her friend. "I ... I just can't."

The brunette girl smiled wryly. "Yes, you can," she said confidently. "You can do this. And I _know_ you'll love it! Trust me - it'll be better than anything you've ever felt!"

"It ... it doesn't seem right!" the blonde protested. She glanced down at the form-fitting blue dress which hugged her ample bosom and very feminine curves. "It ... it seems so ... weird!"

The brunette, equally endowed and wearing a dark skirt and low-cut red blouse, smiled. "I thought it would be bad the first time, too," she said to reassure her companion. "But it was great. You'll love it."

The blonde shook her head. "We shouldn't be out. Not like this."

The brunette sighed. "Oh, all right!" she practically spat. "If you don't want to have any fun ..." She gestured to the bartender. "We'll just have one more ... for the road. Okay?"

The blonde nodded slowly. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly.

With a nod of victory, the brunette rose and walked to the bar, where she retrieved the drinks and paid. She set one glass in front of her companion. "Maybe next time?" she asked.

The blond took a big sip. "Maybe. If there _is_ a next time," she said, sounding uncertain. "We'll see."

The brunette smiled. "I see an old friend. I'm just going to pop over and say hi."

The blonde looked startled. "But ... they'll never recognize you."

The brunette smiled an almost evil smile. "Yes," she said, "and that's half the fun!" With remarkable grace, the brunette girl stood and glided across the floor. As the blonde watched, the brunette approached a table where a guy sat alone. Her charm seemed almost palpable, and the blonde watched as the brunette worked.

After a few moments, the brunette glanced over her shoulder, toward her table. "My friend seems to be a bit sleepy," she said as she turned back to the man. "I hope that doesn't spoil anything."

The man frowned. "Well, I don't know..."

The brunette turned her charm back on. "Tell you what - why don't we bring her along? She claims she's such a hot thing, so if she wakes up, we can have a little ... extra special fun."

**********

Jana sighed heavily as she crawled into her car. Another crime scene, more of the seemingly endless supply of yellow tape cordoning off an otherwise normal apartment building. And two victims this time. She drove quickly, as if she were anxious to escape this nightmarish scene.

With a grim frown, she walked into the office she shared with her partner. Roy glanced up as Jana sat down. "Same thing?" he asked, glumly.

Jana shook her head. "Nope." She saw Roy's eyebrows pop up in surprise. "This one was a double."

Roy swore under his breath. "Damn. She's getting bold, isn't she?"

Jana sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair. "It gets worse. According to the first reports, none of the witnesses at the club remember the second victim. They clearly remember the first victim, though."

"What?" Roy asked, incredulous. "That doesn't make any sense."

"There's more."

Roy sighed. "Go on."

"One of the witnesses thought the first victim left - with two women."

"But he wasn't sure?"

"Nope."

Roy turned back to his computer and began to peruse the notes on this case and all the previous murders, still desperate to find something - anything - that tied them all together. "This doesn't make any sense!" Roy burst out as he threw his pen against his computer screen.

"What?" Jana asked, startled by his outburst.

Roy spun, startled. "Sorry," he said quickly.

"What doesn't make any sense?" Jana asked again.

Roy shook his head. "Our suspect. No prints on file. No witnesses. We know she's injured herself doing the murders - we got blood samples. But ... " He shook his head again. "It's like she just vanishes!"

Jana frowned. "Yeah, it is, isn't it. But people don't just ..." She started, and her eyes widened. Something she'd said ... what was it? What made an alarm go off in her head? Her mouth dropped open. "The victim left with two girls," she repeated slowly. "He left with _two_ girls."

"What?" Roy had seen her reaction. He sounded confused. "Is that important?"

Jana frowned. "I don't know." She stood up and grabbed her purse. "I ... I need to run an errand," she said quickly.

**********

"But ...” Anya frowned. "I suppose it _would_ be possible. But ... we'd notice it. Grandmother and I would sense it!"

"Are you sure?" Jana asked, crestfallen.

Anya shook her head. "No," she admitted. "Not one hundred percent. But we screen our ... customers. The ticket window has ... fail-safes built in. It's ... like an extension of Grandmother and me."

"I don't follow."

Anya sighed. "This is trade secret stuff," she cautioned Jana, "but since you're practically family ...." She glanced at the booth across the way. "When a guy comes to the window, he's automatically scanned. His mind is. For ... bad intentions."

"Bad intentions?"

Anya closed her eyes for a moment and thought of some of their past ... customers. "Look, we've had a few guys come in with some rather nasty intentions. Grandmother and I set up the system to basically watch. If a guy has ... bad thoughts, well, those have patterns to them. We can pick them up."

Jana nodded. "Like virus signatures on my computer?"

"Crude, but that's the general idea. So if someone with rather murderous intentions tried to buy a ticket, we'd get flagged ... almost instantly."

Jana sighed as her shoulders sank. "Oh," she said, sounding defeated. Again.

"But," Anya continued, biting her lip, "maybe the perp was trying to use another girl ... as cover?"

Jana frowned. "Everyone is nervous about single girls. But if there were two ..."

Anya nodded. "It doesn't fit the pattern so far."

"Change the MO to fool a potential victim," Jana nodded. Then she frowned again. "But that would mean ... the second victim ..."

"Was one of our customers." Grandmother's voice finished the thought from the door of the park's office.

"That would explain the mysterious second victim. And the trace of rhopynol in the victim's body. The perp drugged her to drag her along? And when she changed back, she became the second victim." Jana shook her head, a grim expression on her face. "But did the murderer _know_ that the other girl was one of your customers? Or was the second victim a coincidence?"

Grandmother's face bore a serious expression that Anya had never seen before. "You need to find out, and quickly. For the sake of our customers."

**********

"You said it's like the murderer disappears," Jenny noted as she picked up her burger for another bite. She was with Anya, Jana, and Roy in a malt shop trying to enjoy lunch.

Roy nodded solemnly. "We've had a dragnet out for weeks. We've got four composite sketches that are virtually identical, so we know who we're looking for. But we have no match on fingerprints, and no one has seen her."

Jenny turned to Anya. "Is it possible that ... you know?"

Roy frowned. "You know ... what?"

Anya sighed. She knew what she had to do. "Jana, do you want to tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Roy was getting impatient.

Jana bit her lip. "Anya and Jenny work at Bikini Beach, the water park."

"So?"

Jana winced. "This is going to sound impossible, but the park has a certain ... magic ... to it." She watched to see how her partner was going to react. He didn't. Jana continued. "The park is for women only."

"So ... you're saying men aren't allowed in?"

Anya, Jenny, and Jana shook their heads in unison. "No. Men _are_ allowed in. Only, they're not men once they get inside."

Roy frowned. "You're not making any sense."

"The park changes men ... into women."

Roy's frown deepened momentarily, before it vanished. "That's the biggest cockamamie story I've heard in a long time. You want me to believe that this water park has magic to turn men into women? Got any other good ones?" He glanced around the table, and as he read the expressions of the three women, his grin slowly faded. He could tell the ladies weren't joking. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Anya nodded. "Very serious."

"But ... but that's impossible!" Roy protested.

"Would you like to see for yourself?" Anya offered.

Roy realized he was being put on the spot by this impossible story. "What does this water park's magic have to do with the murder case?" he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"If the murderer vanishes, maybe the murderer is really one of Bikini Beach's customers. After she changes back, there's no trace of her - until she strikes again."

Roy glanced around the table at the somber expressions. "I'm not sure I'm ready to buy this idea," he said cautiously.

Anya nodded. "Let's show you so you believe. Then we can talk about the possibilities."

Roy glanced around once more, and he started to feel uneasy. "This ... change. It's not ... permanent, is it?"

Anya smiled enigmatically. "Not unless you want it to be."

Roy gulped and shook his head. "Since everything else seems to be a dead end, I guess I don't have anything to lose ..."

Jana nodded, pulled some money from her purse, and threw it on the table. "Grab your stuff. We'll eat on the way."

"I just hate to eat and run all the time," Jenny said wryly. "I guess it goes with the job ... and the boss!" She saw Anya wrinkle her nose and decided her little inside joke was out of place this time.

The drive to the park was short and silent, and as they got out of Jana's car, Roy glanced around nervously. He was starting to feel uneasy about the entire prospect. Anya retrieved a plastic card from what looked like a ticket booth and handed it to Roy. He looked questioningly at her. "Just swipe it to open the gate, then go to the men's locker. We've got spare men's swimsuits there, so you can just borrow one of those. Take a shower, and we'll meet you outside."

Roy frowned. "And what happens? A bolt of lightning or something?"

Anya glanced at Jenny and smiled. "Or something," she answered simply.

"Okay." Roy took a deep breath and braced himself, then he swiped the card and marched through the turnstile. On the other side, as he glanced around, he realized he'd been expectantly holding his breath. He saw Anya point toward the men's locker room.

It was a petite blonde, absent Roy's spreading bald patch and 'swivel-chair spread', that emerged from the men's locker. She looked dazed, almost frightened, as she glanced around. One arm strategically covered her otherwise bare bosom. "This ... this is real!" she stammered in a rich contralto voice.

Anya handed Roy a bikini top. "Put this on, please," she said. "Grandmother hates it when women go topless."

Roy took the skimpy cloth and noted that it matched the bikini bottom hugging his womanly hips. "But ... how ...?" And then, with an ease that caused his eyes to widen even more in amazement, he put on the bikini top as if he'd been doing it all his life. "How ... how did I do that?"

Anya smiled. "It's part of the magic." She grasped Roy's arm. "Let's go to the office. It's a bit more private."

As the others sat down, Anya retrieved sodas from a small refrigerator and passed them out.

"Where's the boss?" Jenny asked as she accepted her soda.

"Right here," a familiar voice sounded from the door. "I sensed you coming, so I got here as soon as I could." The old woman sat down easily in her large chair behind her large desk - symbols of her status as the park's owner. "Jana, I don't think you're idea is on the right track."

Jana shook her head. "But it's _got_ to be one of your customers," she said insistently. "There's no other explanation!"

Grandmother and Anya shook their heads in unison. "We scanned every single customer getting a pass. None of them had any evil intent."

Roy sat next to Jana on the couch. "Then you missed something," he said, still amazed at the sound of his altered voice.

Grandmother shook her head. "No. It's not possible. I scanned _every_ customer buying a pass."

Roy shook his head. "We're going to have to have a look at your records," he said sternly. "It would have to be a repeat customer. Someone who's been changing every weekend."

Grandmother frowned. "I ... I can't let you see my records," she said softly. "I _owe_ my customers privacy and confidentiality. Especially the men who change."

"But ..."

Anya nodded sadly. "Look, do you know what would happen to a man if it were discovered that he changes into a woman periodically? Or that he _used_ to be a man and is now a woman? That kind of information could ruin a person."

Jana bit her lip and nodded her agreement. "They're right, Roy. Besides, how would we convince a judge to grant us a search warrant for the records? You think we'd get away with that?"

Roy sank back into the sofa cushions, feeling defeated because he _knew_ Jana was right. "But ... we've _got_ to do something!"

Jana glanced at Roy, then at Anya. "Maybe _we_ could tail some of your repeat customers? Look for something ... irregular?"

Grandmother stared at Roy, and Roy shrank from her gaze. He felt as if the old woman were staring into his soul. Finally, she nodded. "I know you'll keep your word if you promise not to tell any more than you have to ... to catch the murderer. Isn't that right, Roy?"

Roy gulped. "Yes, ma'am," he answered softly. "I’ll keep my word."

The old woman nodded. "I need you to make that a promise."

Roy glanced at Jana, then back at the old woman. "You have my word."

The old woman smiled a thin, worn smile. "Jenny, you need to get back to work." She watched her 'handyman' stroll easily from the office, then turned her attention back to Roy. "Here's the deal I'll make with you. I'll check my records for repeat customers. You can check up on them."

Roy glanced at Jana. "With only two of us, that could take a while."

The old woman smiled. "Three. Sergeant Murphy knows the secret, too. You can get him to help."

Jana frowned. "This is going to be highly ... irregular. Someone's going to ask questions about what we're doing. This is getting to be a very high-profile case, you know."

Anya glanced at her grandmother and saw the enigmatic smile. "I'll talk to the chief. He ... understands one or two things. I'm sure he can keep the questions to a minimum."

**********

"Anything?" Jana sank into her chair, weary from her field work.

Roy shook his head. "The guy I watched - well, suffice to say I don't think he's the one."

"Oh?"

Roy felt himself blushing. "Yeah. He lives with two girls. Apparently, he changes every weekend. The girls are ... bisexual. The three of them were ... well ... you know." He broke off, embarrassed.

Jana suppressed a chuckle. She understood how Roy might have felt like a Peeping Tom.

"How about you?"

Jana shook her head. "Number 22 is clean. Believe it or not, he's making money moonlighting as a stripper to pay child support and go to night school."

Anya picked up a sheet of paper and made a scratch through the name that went with the number. She knew the number assignment was a charade - these two were detectives, and they could find the true identities of their assigned 'numbers' easily. Still, Grandmother had to at least go through the motions of protecting her clients' identities.

"Murphy came up blank, too." He shook his head. "That's about half the list. And no closer." He sighed. "If I didn't know about the magic of that place, I wouldn't have believed it. And some of these guys - I wouldn't have ever guessed."

**********

Norma smiled as the guy approached the window. "This is becoming a ritual for you, isn't it?" she asked pleasantly.

The guy glanced around, then seeing he was alone, he smiled. "Yeah, kind of. Besides, it's not so bad - after the first couple of times. In a way, it's kind of ... interesting."

Norma smiled. "And how many guys ever understand what it's like to be a woman, eh? Should give you an edge with the ladies."

The guy nodded. "Assuming I ever meet one." He lacked confidence, that much was certain. "It's kind of hard when, you know, I'm one. But I guess that's better than being ..." He didn't need to complete the thought. He paid, then took his pass.

"See you next weekend?" Norma joked as he turned from the window.

The guy glanced back, then he nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so." He walked through the turnstile and into the locker room.

**********

Anya sat at her desk, her fingers typing on the keyboard as she entered data into the company books. Suddenly, she looked up and her eyes widened. "Grandmother?" she called, knowing the old woman wasn't in the office but would hear her nevertheless.

She stood and bolted for the door, standing in the parking lot. Feverishly, she scanned the area around the ticket booth. There was nothing. Only the solitary small building overlooking the black asphalt of their parking lot.

"I felt it, too, dear."

Anya turned and stared at Grandmother, a look of confusion on her face. "But ... there's no one there."

The old woman nodded. "But it was there. The evil. I felt it's cold touch." She shook her head. "But I can't feel it out there, either!" She frowned. "Something isn't right here."

Anya felt a chill; she'd seen the involuntary shudder in her grandmother. As if, sometime in her past, Grandmother had felt whatever cold evil force she was trying to describe.

**********

The girl walked confidently into the club. Around her, the guys seated at the tables barely noticed, rapt as they were on the large-breasted semi-nude dancer performing on the stage before them. The girl scanned the group, then settled her gaze on a middle-aged man. With a seductive swing to her hips, she sashayed across the room. Only when she stood beside his table did the man look away from the stripper.

"You mind if I join you?" the girl asked in a breathy voice? Her hand absently traced its way up her front, between her breasts, until it rested lightly on the bare flesh above her low-cut neckline, her fingers emphasizing the valley of cleavage beneath them.

The man swallowed, then he smiled. "Uh, sure." He looked a bit nervous, as if he'd been caught. "Uh, this ..."

The girl eased her sexy figure into the chair beside him. "You know," she said casually, "I always found these places to be so ... _hot_. You know what I mean?" She licked her lips seductively.

The man gulped again. "Uh, yeah. You want something to drink?" he offered.

The girl smiled. "A glass of white wine."

The guy flagged down a barmaid and placed the order.

"I haven't seen you around here before," the girl said slowly. "You come here often?"

The man shook his head. "Uh, no. I'm in town on business, and I'm, uh, supposed to be meeting my clients here."

The girl's expression morphed into a pout. "Oh, too bad."

"Uh, they're late. So I guess I'm by myself for a while," the guy added quickly. He sensed some ... possibilities with this girl.

The girl glanced up on the stage, to where the stripper was performing her seductive dance. She glanced back at the man. "You know," she purred, "I bet I could dance better than her. And when I dance, you could touch, too!"

**********

Jana frowned. "No leads, again. And we've checked everyone on the list."

Anya nodded. "I'll double check to see if we missed anything, but we've gone through the bank records and credit-card records. If someone was a repeat customer ..."

Jana glanced up sharply. "If they paid with a check or credit card. But what if they paid cash?"

Anya frowned, then she nodded. "I should have thought of that! You might be on to something. Maybe you and Roy should interview the staff? Maybe one of them remembers a repeat customer who pays cash."

Jana nodded, but she didn't look hopeful. "Might as well." She laughed bitterly. "If it is a repeat customer, wouldn't that be the ultimate Jekyll-Hyde."

Anya shook her head, then she started. "Say that again," she prompted, her tone deadly serious.

"What? Jekyll-Hyde?" Jana sounded confused.

Anya frowned in concentration, then she shook her head. "I thought there was something, but ..."

Jana frowned. "Wait a minute," she said, suddenly bolt-upright in her seat and alert. "Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde were a kind of split personality. The change brought out the evil in Hyde. What if we're dealing with something similar?" She felt her pulse quicken. "What if the change is bringing out the evil in someone?"

Anya nodded slowly. "If the change _is_ doing that, that would explain ... why we aren't sensing anything in the customers when they come in, and ... why I sensed something evil ...." Her eyes widened. "It was _inside_ the park! The evil was already through the gate! And Grandmother and I missed it, because we were searching _outside_ the park!"

**********

Vicky glanced past the customer and looked at the line of guys. About twenty guys were in the queue to buy passes. She looked back at her customer. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

The middle-aged woman nodded, then she glanced at the guys in line. "I thought you said this place would be ... you know," she added in a hushed voice, "just women!"

Vicky glanced at the guys, then she smiled at the woman. "Don't worry, Mrs. Hastings. By the time the guys get done showering, there will only be women inside the park!" She grinned.

The woman glanced once more at the guys, and then she smiled and walked toward the gate.

Vicky smiled and looked at the next customer - a lanky young man with a farmboy look about him. "Can I help you?" she asked sweetly.

The young man glanced around and leaned down to the window. "Uh, mah' frien' told me you can keep me from endin' up daid like them other fellers."

Vicky smiled, suppressing a chuckle. Not only did the young man _look_ like a hayseed, he sounded like he was from the backwoods as well. "This park is for women only," she said in well-rehearsed words. "Men go in, but they don't come out."

"Ah don' foller what ye're sayin', the man said, confusion on his face.

Vicky leaned forward toward the window, her eyes narrowed a bit. "This park is magic," she said in a hushed tone. "The park changes men into women."

The hick's eyes widened. "Ya'll mean you'd be changin' me inta a gal?" He looked surprised and shocked, even frightened by the prospect.

Vicky smiled. "That's right."

The guy glanced over his shoulder. "And all these other fellers - they know what ye're gonna do to 'em?"

Vicky nodded. "Most of them do."

The guy thought for a moment. "Well, it sounds purty odd to me," he finally said, "but if it keeps me alive, I guess ah'll have a go. As long as I don' git stuck as a gal!" He paid the fee and took his ticket. "Now what?"

Vicky pointed toward the gate. "Go through the turnstile, then change in the men's locker room and take your shower. Health department regulations, you understand." She watched the guy lope toward the gate in his awkward, clumsy gait. For a moment, she had the mental image of Jethro from the "Beverly Hillbillies". She cut off the thought - it wasn't nice to stereotype people. Besides, she had more customers.

"I'd like a pass, please," a bookish looking man said calmly as he pushed money into the counter. Like theater windows, there was a small depression under the thick glass through which money and passes could be transferred without making an opening in the glass. Grandmother did a good job of protecting her employees.

Vicky nodded, a smile still on her face. From the corner of her eye, she watched a tiny light which burned red. "It'll take just a moment, please," she said pleasantly. She fiddled at the computer, frowning occasionally. "I'm sorry this is going slow," she said apologetically. "The computer has been acting up all week."

The man nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean," he said. "I have to deal with that all the time."

Vicky watched, fumbling with the keyboard, frowning, until the tiny light went out. She punched one more button, and the computer miraculously recovered. "Ah," she sighed. "Here we go." She entered the data with a few deft keystrokes. "Would you like a receipt?" she asked as she took the customer's pass.

The man shook his head. "No, thank you." He frowned. "You didn't use to give receipts, did you?"

Vicky shrugged. "Some company was using the park for entertaining clients and such. They wanted to write off the passes as business expenses, so they needed receipts. The boss decided that if they were good customers, we should help them out." She wrinkled her nose. "I think it was adding that stuff to the computers that has made them so slow sometimes."

The man laughed softly as he took his pass. "Thanks." He walked off toward the gate.

Vicky smiled to herself. So far, she hadn't had any complaints - not big ones, anyway - about the delay. She didn't quite know why, but Grandmother wanted her to let the men in very slowly, and blaming the computer was a good stalling tactic. Even if Vicky _knew_ that the computer was working perfectly. Vicky was a good employee, and as such, she was only too happy to comply with her boss's wishes.

*****

Anya and Jana sat at a table by the entrance pavilion, just in front of the gift shop. Both sipped sodas, and Jana occasionally took a nacho from the tray in front of her. "Anything?" she asked softly as she spied another girl emerging - startled and uneasy - from the men's locker room.

Anya shook her head almost imperceptibly. "Nope."

Jana frowned. "I hope this isn't a waste of time. The chief wasn't too keen on us spending the day doing this." She shook her head. "But I'd _love_ to know what your grandmother has on him to make him so cooperative," she added in a conspiratorial tone.

Anya laughed. "They're just old friends."

"Yeah, right!" Jana picked up another nacho. Then she saw Anya stiffen and her eyes widen. "What?"

Anya didn't seem to hear Jana as she concentrated. "What?" Jana repeated.

Anya nodded in the direction of the men's room. "Something ... evil. We might have our girl," she said somberly.

Jana followed her gaze and watched as a lithe black-haired woman emerged from the changing room. Unlike most of the guys, she walked with an air that seemed out of place. She had confidence, and an unnatural, almost palpably sexy air about her that Jana, even as a woman, could sense. Her bikini was jet black, with a tiny red flower between the cups of her matching black bra. Firm breasts, narrow waist, long curvy legs, nicely proportioned hips, and a firm round bottom. This woman had it all. She seemed to be sex personified. And the bikini - black, with a red decoration in the middle. Just like - Jana gulped at the thought - a black widow spider.

Jana shoved aside the nachos. She felt Anya's arm on hers, stopping her from rising. "We don't know that it's her, yet."

Jana nodded. "I know that. Roy'll tail her to make sure, and I'll stay here in case she's not the right one." She watched the woman, and her eyes widened when the woman changed course. "She's going _into_ the park!"

Anya felt Jana's panic. They'd assumed that the suspect would leave the park immediately, and had planned accordingly. "Follow her. I'll get Roy." And there was something else. The girl had a bra, unlike most of the guys who changed. It wasn't normal. And it perfectly fit her persona as a Black Widow. Anya felt a cold chill run down her spine. Either she'd brought it along, or forces far more sinister were at work here.

Jana nodded. "I'll let him know on the two-way. Meet him and get him in here - fast. As crowded as this place is today ...." She didn't have to finish the thought. If this _was_ the right one, they didn't want to let her get away. Not when they were this close. Jana stood slowly, trying to appear nonchalant, and casually sauntered off, a few yards behind the suspect. Fortunately, Jana had been smart enough to wear a tiny two-way radio so she could keep in touch with Roy.

Anya ran toward the gate. Her fingers did a little intricate dance as she muttered some words, then she dashed through the exit turnstile. She knew that her actions would halt things in the ticket booth - at least long enough for what she needed.

Roy's car was easy to find - he was parked in Anya's normal spot. "Roy, we got a problem."

Roy was already halfway out of the car. "Jana told me."

"You've got to take her place watching the locker room with me."

Roy nodded grimly. "I know." He was already trotting toward the gate. "Oh, wait!" he called suddenly as he abruptly stopped. "I'll need ..."

Anya handed him a plastic card as if she'd been reading his mind. "I kept one handy ... just in case," she added as they resumed running.

**********

The car pulled into the drive-through lane, and the woman, now clad in a tight black miniskirt, a red blouse, and a black jacket, leaned toward the speaker.

Half a block away, four eyes in another car watched her every move. "Think she's the one?" the blonde woman asked cautiously. "She didn't do anything out of the ordinary all day."

Jana frowned. The blonde was Roy, stuck in a woman's body for the rest of the day. "She was in the park all day, surrounded by women. She didn't have a chance to do anything."

The blonde nodded. "Yeah, I know." She frowned. "I'm not too happy about this," she complained. "Why'd it have to make me so ... sexy?" She glanced down at the breasts jutting from her chest, pulling her blouse out to reveal what to her eyes was a huge crevasse of cleavage. "And these things ... they're so ... big!"

Jana smiled at her partner's predicament. "Not really, but this is the first time you've had a chance to study them from that perspective. Besides, you only have to live with them for today. I bet you'll never look at a woman the same way again!"

Roy frowned. "The chief is going to be pissed at us for ruining those radios."

Jana nodded and grimaced. "He should have bought something waterproof."

"You won't think it's funny when he takes it out of our pay to replace them!"

"Anya's grandmother said not to worry. So don't worry."

Roy frowned. "Yeah? Well, what if we have to follow her into a club? Or a strip joint? Huh? _You_ grew up female, but I’m not!..What if some guy tries to hit on me or something?" She shuddered visibly at the thought.

"There she goes!" Jana snapped insistently. The two women were reminded of just _how_ hungry they were. Jana was grateful for the light snacks at the park. Jana also knew that they couldn't pause to eat; the delay would allow the suspect to elude their observation.

Carefully, skillfully, Jana drove the car. The objective was to stay near enough the car to not lose it, but far enough away to not give away the surveillance. Many detectives never quite mastered the skill; Jana did it well, which is why Roy let her drive. She watched the suspect's car turn into a parking lot.

Jana parked the car near the suspect's. "You want to stay out here?" she asked Roy.

Roy nodded. "Yeah. I'd be happier if you had a radio."

Jana frowned. "So would I. But we'll just have to wing it." She climbed from the car and followed the woman inside.

Though repulsed by what the suspect might be capable of, Jana couldn't help but marvel at the woman's confidence and appeal. Despite the murders, the warnings, the palpable sense of fear that gripped most men, she had some way to go past it, somehow appealing directly to the men's baser instincts. Fear was forgotten when she walked by. It was as though something about her was compelling men to be attracted to her.

Jana ignored the guys trying to chat with her. She focused instead on the woman. It only took her a few minutes to select a man, although Jana was at a loss to explain how she made her choice. The man eagerly joined her on the dance floor, bought her drinks, and generally ignored anything common sense might have told him about this strangely seductive woman. Jana knew that other guys were watching, enviously, as the man was slowly seduced by the woman's charms.

"Damn," Jana cursed to herself. She needed to alert Roy. She set down her soda and tried to act casual as she edged toward the door. She watched the suspect, hanging playfully on the guy's arm, as the two left the club. Jana hastened her step, ducking around the club's patrons.

As she darted through the entrance, Jana spied the headlights of a car, and had to stop short so it didn't run her over. Then another car pulled up beside her. Jana jumped in, and was startled to see Roy changed back to his normal male self. "I changed back a couple of minutes ago," he announced.

"I'm glad you were watching." Then Jana frowned. "But if you changed back, why didn't she? She _had_ to have gotten a longer pass. But _why_?" She turned her attention to the car they were following.

As Jana and Roy knew too well, if the woman was the murderer, the destination would be the man's apartment or home. When the car stopped at the man's home, Roy and Jana felt a bit more confident - so far, everything fit the MO almost perfectly. The car parked, and holding the girl's arm, the guy walked confidently to his door. A bit of fumbling with the keys, while the girl hung seductively on him, and the guy opened his door. It closed behind him.

Jana felt nervous. "Now what? Do we go in?"

Roy shook his head. "We _should_ get a warrant," he said uneasily. "We're _supposed_ to get a warrant. But we _know_ she's going to kill him. We don't have time."

Jana frowned. "We don't _know_. We strongly suspect." She grimaced. "Is it enough?"

Roy drew himself up, then reached for the car door. "If we're wrong, we're going to be in deep shit. If we're right, we're going to save a guy's life. What do you think?" He opened the door and stepped into the street.

In answer, Jana lightly closed the car door, then checked her pistol, tucked in the shoulder holster under her jacket. "Okay. Let's do it."

Roy paused by the door. They'd seen the light go on in an upstairs bedroom. "Knock?"

Jana frowned. "I think we'd better kick it in." She took a quick deep breath. "And pray we're right."

Roy stepped back, and with one quick kick, the door jamb splintered and broke inward.

Carried by his momentum, Roy raced through the door, and then he paused and looked around. He spotted a staircase, and following the sounds coming from upstairs, he ran up the stairs two at a time, with Jana right behind him. The light in the bedroom was a beacon guiding their way.

With her gun drawn, Jana burst into the bedroom. "Police," she called sharply. "Freeze!"

The woman was atop the nude man, engaged in sex as she straddled him. He was barely moving, and his breathing sounded like he was asleep, or drugged. And in the woman's hand was a wicked looking knife, its edge serrated and vicious. She glanced at the intruding police, and then she snarled, like a caged animal, and drew back the knife to plunge it into the man's chest.

Roy dove across the room before Jana could stop him. With a thud, he hit the woman, knocking her from atop the man. She screamed, and as Roy fought to grasp her arm, she swung the knife at him.

Roy's eyes widened in shock, and his body went limp.

Jana saw the knife raising to stab at Roy; instinctively, without any thought, she squeezed the trigger and fired. The woman shrieked in agony as her wrist bones were smashed by the .40 caliber slug; the knife fell uselessly to the floor beside her shattered arm. With her pistol still aimed at the suspect, Jana kicked the knife away, then she knelt down, and with one arm, pushed Roy aside, flinching at the red stain on the floor and on the woman's chest. She knew it was Roy's blood. She knelt on the woman's chest and grasped the woman's other arm.

The woman screamed. "It's the natural order! I have to kill him! He's not useful any more!" She was beyond mere insanity; she was ignoring her physical pain and, with her good arm, still groping for the knife. Her hysterical rantings were nonsense, the ravings of an obviously deranged mind. "None of them are useful! It's the natural order to kill them after we mate!"

Jana ignored the woman's irrational words and wrestled her into handcuffs. Then she bent down beside her partner. She winced as she saw the blood oozing from his leg and belly. The knife had struck a deep blow.

Roy's eyes were glazed; he was going into shock. "We ... got her," he said with a half smile.

"I'll call backup. And get you to a hospital."

Roy nodded weakly. "I'm ... I should have let you shoot her."

**********

Grandmother and Anya were waiting for Jana as she came down the stairs with the gurney. As soon as the attendants had Roy in the ambulance, it sped off, siren blaring and lights flashing. Jana watched until it vanished around a corner, then she turned to Anya.

Grandmother shook her head sadly. "We have to get downtown. Quickly," she added urgently.

"Grab my arm," Anya directed. With grandmother and Jana holding her, Anya said a quick spell and the trio vanished.

They appeared in the police station, in an office. Jana gulped - it was the office of the chief of police. She _knew_ she was going to get into deep trouble for this.

The door opened, and the chief walked in. He was not in uniform; he'd obviously been roused from bed to come to the station. Without a word, he sat down behind his desk. "Sit down, please." It sounded less like a polite request than a direct order.

"Yes, sir." Jana took a chair as ordered. On either side, Anya and the old woman sat as well.

The chief glanced at the old woman. "If it wasn't you," he began, "I wouldn't have come. What's going on?"

Jana saw Anya and the old woman glancing at her. She gulped. "We caught the murderer," she said, trying to muster her confidence.

The chief started to smile, but then he saw the look on the old woman's face. "You're making me nervous," he said.

The woman nodded. "We've got a big problem."

Jana shook her head. "I don't understand," she and the chief said in unison.

Anya sighed. "Tomorrow night, your murder suspect is going to change back into a man."

The chief and Jana both frowned. "Damn," the chief muttered. In that instant, Jana knew that the chief understood the magic of Bikini Beach. He knew why the old woman was in his office. "So we're screwed?"

The old woman sighed. "I had Anya check on the suspect's background. The man is ... ill. Mentally ill. The magic change exacerbated it. It drove him over the edge."

"To kill."

The old woman nodded. "As a woman, she's a psychopathic killer. But as a man, he's a normal accountant." She shook her head. "I don't think _he_ even knows what _she_ does!"

Anya continued. "While he was studying in college, he worked part-time as an EMT. He saw lots of violence - you know, gang wars, killings, rapes. This had to leave some emotional scars."

"But what does that have to do with ...?" Jana was confused.

The old woman continued. "It seems the first time he came to the park, the change was a psychological shock to him. It left him traumatized enough that he wasn't being careful. He got raped. That's probably what pushed him ... her ... over the edge. It shattered her fragile psyche, and built upon all the experiences. A lot the violence he saw as an EMT was caused by men. When she broke, she probably blamed all men for the violence. She became the killer. The ‘Black Widow’."

Jana shook her head. "But ... In twenty-four hours, we won't have a suspect. And without evidence to hold _him_, he'll be free, and can change and kill again!"

Anya nodded grimly. "The problem is that the change was local. She never existed. Not legally, anyway. No one knows anything about her. She is a phantom, with no background, no records, nothing."

"Damn!" the chief swore again. "I've got every politician in the state breathing down my neck on this case, and now you tell me we _can't_ solve it because of the way your magic works?"

Jana felt her world spin. "So what are we going to do?"

**********

The chief sipped his soda as the old woman turned on the television. Anya retrieved a drink for Jana, and then sat beside her friend.

On the screen, an earlier news conference was playing. The chief stood at a podium. Microphones, labeled with every television and radio call letter imaginable including every major network, made it appear that the chief's head was supported not by a neck and torso, but by the bouquet of microphones. "Let me begin with a statement," he said in his low gruff voice. "Last evening, two of our officers, acting on a tip, followed and confronted a suspect in the serial murder case. One of the officers was injured, and the suspect fled in her car. Officers joined a chase, which unfortunately ended in tragedy when the woman lost control and crashed into a fuel truck." The image on the screen cut to video of a raging inferno, with the outline of a car and a tanker truck barely visible through the intense flames. The chief's voice continued. "By the time we were able to extinguish the fire, the suspect was deceased. Based on the evidence we've looked at so far, it appears that the serial murder case will soon be closed."

The video cut back to the chief. "I'll try to answer any questions now." His image pointed. "Yes?"

Another voice sounded on the television. "How confident are you that the suspect is the real Black Widow?"

"My officers confronted her as she was about to take another victim. Besides the knife she was using, we found a second knife at her home with blood stains. Forensics has already matched those blood stains with one of the victims. Yes?"

"Is it possible that the deceased was set up by the real killer?"

In the park office, the chief snorted. "Turn that damned thing off," he growled.

The old woman complied. "So it looks like they bought it?"

The chief nodded slowly. "I didn't think we'd get away with it. Setting up the crash was a stroke of genius. And the fact that the intended victim was drugged so he couldn't contradict anything we said." He sank back in his chair and the faint tracings of a smile crossed his features. "I owe you. Again."

"How's Roy?" Anya asked.

The chief shook his head. "Not good. The surgeons say he's stable, but the knife cut him pretty deep." He snorted. "And the damned reporters didn't even ask about him!"

Jana sighed. "I don't like it," she said softly. "The real killer is still on the loose, instead of being locked up where he belongs."

The old woman shook her head sadly. "Dave Samuels wasn't the killer. It was his alter ego. His 'Miss Hyde'. It wouldn't be fair to punish him for something _he_ didn't do. Something that he doesn't even _know_ he did."

The chief frowned. "I can't agree. He should be punished for what he did."

Anya sighed. "Would you punish him for something he couldn't control? Would that be fair? In order to bring _her_ to trial, we'd have to make the spell permanent. Is _that_ fair to him?" She shook her head.

"But the murderer is still inside his head. What if she gets out and starts killing again?" Jana asked. She sounded genuinely troubled.

The old woman shook her head sadly. "In this case, there aren't any perfect solutions. It's not black and white."

Anya nodded her agreement. "The best we can do is to help him so _she_ never comes back."

Grandmother nodded. "Anya put a mental block on him, so he never remembers the evil his alter ego did. She also put a block on him so he'll never come to my Park again, or ever try to find any other way to change into a woman again."

"You hope."

Grandmother stared at Jana for a moment. Then she slowly nodded. "We hope." She sighed. "That's all we can do. Hope."

**********

Roy hobbled on his cane through the door and sat down. He was limping badly, and every movement seemed to draw pain on his face.

"It's good to see you're back on your feet, Roy," Anya said warmly as she darted to give him a quick hug. She gave him an arm to help him sit down.

Roy took a few quick breaths. "It's still pretty painful, but the therapists are insisting that I move as much as I can."

The old woman turned her chair and faced Roy. "I'm glad you could make it," she said, her voice carefully neutral.

Anya glanced at her grandmother, puzzled by her choice of words. The old woman smiled thinly. "Anya, could you please leave us to have a private discussion?"

Anya looked at her watch. "Sure, Grandmother. I'm supposed to be meeting Jana for dinner." She paused a beat. "There are some private matters she and I are going to be talking about."

Grandmother frowned. "Have a good time then," she said halfheartedly, "and tell her I said 'Hello.'" Beneath her desk, her hands trembled as her senses gave her a warning - of something. She didn't quite know what, but she _knew_ Anya was up to something. And with a detective ....

As the door closed behind Anya, the detective sighed. "She's a good girl," he observed.

The old woman nodded. "That she is. But you didn't come here to talk about Anya."

Roy laughed and dropped his gaze for a moment. "No," he admitted, "I didn't." He glanced up again and sighed heavily. "The answer is no."

The old woman's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

Roy leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I know the doctors can't fix ... things. I'm never going to be a complete man again." He sighed again. "And Jana gave me the complete sales pitch. You could give me a new life, give me back a few years, make me whole again. But I'd have to become a woman." He shook his head sadly. "I can't do it. Not right now."

"But ..."

Roy shook his head again. "I can't. It was too hard to be a woman for those two days." He touched his heart. "In here, I mean." He then touched his head. "And in here." His hands dropped back to rest on his cane. "I'm a crusty old man who's too set in his ways to change."

The old woman nodded, her face impassive. "With your wife ... gone, and your children in college, it wouldn't be ... well, I can arrange it so your children are still your children if you'd like."

Roy shook his head. "That's not it." He saw the old woman's expression and laughed. "Well, maybe a little."

"Then what, if I may ask?"

"I'm just an old warhorse. I've been on the force for thirty-five years. I've been wounded in the line of duty four times. I've been a cop all my life, and I guess I want to go out a cop."

"So now what? You move to a desk job to finish your career? Or retire on disability?" The old woman shook her head. "That doesn't sound like much of a life to an officer like yourself."

Roy nodded. "I know. But ... it's just too much of a change for me to handle. You know, Anya told me that there are a lot of men ... er, women, who are your customers. Ladies who used to be men. She even introduced me to a couple of them so I could hear their stories, find out what they really think."

"And?"

Roy shook his head. "Maybe they could do it. I don't think I can."

"Jana is going to miss having you as a partner."

Roy nodded sadly. "She's a good kid. And a good cop. Smart. I'm going to miss working with her, too."

"And if you changed, you could be more than a desk-bound cop again." The old woman shook her head sadly. "This city needs good policemen like you."

Roy smiled. "I appreciate the complement. And the sales pitch. But the answer still has to be no. I just _can't_." He rose awkwardly to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. "And while I appreciate your hospitality, I know you have a business to run. So I'll get out of your hair."

The old woman nodded her understanding. "You know you can always change your mind."

Roy paused in the doorway and nodded. A faint smile showed on his face. "I know. And someday, maybe I will."

Roy hobbled off, letting the door close and block out the bright sunlight. The old woman paused a moment, watching after him. She knew he'd never come back. It wasn't in his character. And that was too bad.

***** Epilogue *****

"You wanted to see me, Boss?" Jenny stood in the door of the park's office.

The old woman glanced up from her computer, and she nodded. "Please come in. Sit down. You want to grab a soda or something?"

Jenny shook her head as she eased herself into a chair. "No, thanks."

"You've been a bit ... distracted lately," the old woman observed after an awkward moment of silence.

Jenny's eyes narrowed. "I ... I'm not sure I understand." She sounded cautious and defensive.

The old woman sighed and shook her head. "No, it's not that. You're doing your work ... exceedingly well. As usual."

Jenny's frown deepened. "Then what?"

"You've been thinking a lot about Roy, haven't you?"

Jenny's eyes closed and she slowly nodded. "I don't suppose it would do any good to try to deny it. Is it a problem?"

The old woman shook her head. "No, not to me. I was wondering if it was distracting you?"

Jenny leaned back and sighed. "I ... I don't know. I've been thinking a lot about it. And not just Roy. It's about me." She sighed again. "I mean, you gave me a second chance. The same as you gave him. The difference is, I took it, while he didn't."

"And you're wondering if you did the right thing?"

Jenny nodded slowly. "Yeah."

The old woman nodded her understanding. "Jenny, you did what _you_ felt you had to do. Roy did exactly the same. What's right for you isn't necessarily right for someone else."

"Thanks," Jenny said simply. "I needed to hear that." She stood abruptly. "I think I've got to get back to work." As she strolled to the door, she saw the old woman turn back to her computer. She paused in the doorway. "Boss?"

The old woman lifted her head, surprised. "Yes?"

"Are you and Anya ... okay?" Jenny asked hesitantly. "It seems like you two are - I don't know - more at odds lately."

The old woman started, surprised by Jenny's observation. Her mouth started to move, then it froze, as if the words refused to come out. "Everything is okay," she answered as she looked back to the computer screen. "Anya is just growing, and needs to learn some independence. That's all."

Jenny frowned. Something about the old woman's expression troubled her. "Oh. This doesn't have anything to do with Anya asking Jana to help find out about her mother, does it?"

The old woman glanced up quickly, and the expression on her face chilled Jenny to the bone. She looked beyond pale, nearly white with a plainly visible fear. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably over the keyboard, and her lower lip quivered. Then the old woman looked back at her work. "We're ... okay," she said, failing completely to sound confident.

Jenny felt the stabbing fear of uncertainty as she let the door close. Never had she seen the old woman so thoroughly upset. And despite her boss's reassuring words, it most definitely _wasn't_ okay. If anything, the tension between the two was getting worse. Jenny couldn't shrug off the feeling of foreboding as she walked back to her maintenance shack.

FIN