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Acknowledgments. My sincere thanks to ElrodW for his review and approval of this story in his universe using his characters, to Ellie Dauber for her help with the basic plot and storyline, for her comments and for the use of her character, to Denise Em (the daughter of the Blue Pen) for her detailed proofing, and to my special friend for her thoughts, help and comments. Permission is granted to Fictionmania, Nifty and ElrodW to post this story to their respective sites. Anyone else please ask me. Bikini Beach: To Serve and Protect by Tigger copyright 2000 The Old Woman felt her many years more acutely than usual as she came out of her office looking for her granddaughter. She found Anya in her own office, talking on the phone. The Old Woman settled herself stiffly into one of the accessory chairs to wait while Anya concluded her call. "So, Jana, that's all you can tell me about this Lieutenant Kowalchek?" there was a short pause as Anya listened and waggled fingers at her Grandmother in greeting. "Well, I guess we'll find out when he gets here. Thanks, dear." "Well," the Old Woman said with a weary smile, "the little I heard of that conversation was certainly interesting. Since my news is so sad, I will let you tell me yours first." "Mine isn't much better, Grandmother. All I know is that this Lt. Alex Kowalchek called me just after I got in this morning. Evidently, he is on some case and wants to talk with us about it. I just called Jana to find out what she could tell me about him." "What kind of case?" the Old Woman asked sharply. She was very protective of her beloved creation and some type of criminal investigation might call unwanted attention to the more... well, magical aspects of her operation. Anya shrugged. "Jana didn't know anything about it, but that's because she's working street patrol and Kowalchek is a homicide detective. He was very careful not to give me any details when he called - just said that he would very much like to interview us at the earliest possible date. He hinted it was very serious, but wouldn't say more." "I see. So, what did Jana tell you about Mr. Kowalchek." "Very, very good at what he does... something of a legend on the force. Jana, or actually, it was Jake, went to the Police Academy with him, so Jana knows a bit about him, although they are no longer close. He's a widower, his wife and infant daughter having been killed by a drug dealer a few years ago. He left Narcotics and went into homicide, brought down the creep who killed his family. He's thorough and meticulous - evidently has never had a case thrown out due to technicalities. The DA's office loves him, but some of the other politicos and political hangers-on in our fair city feel he's a loose cannon. Once he's on the scent, he doesn't quit, which means he isn't very controllable. He broke that case last year - the one that connected our esteemed mayor with certain unsavory types." "Did Jana say anything about his ethics?" "Evidently truth and justice for the victims of crime, particularly of violent crime, are his pantheon. According to Jana, the murder of his family was a retaliatory killing. Seems this scum was upset by the fact that Mr. Kowalchek was too honest to be bribed and too good to be fooled." "Sounds like a formidable man, and we have no idea what he wants with us?" "None." Anya sighed. "So, what is your bad news?" "Elaine Summers called this morning," the Old Woman said. "She wanted to know if she could sell back her memberships." "Why?" Anya asked, shocked. "Her family LOVES coming here." Elaine had been one of the park's first members. She and her family often spent weekends at the park. Anya particularly liked the woman's affable, easygoing husband who could accept and embrace a weekend of being his wife's best girlfriend without rancor or embarrassment. She sometimes thought that the girl who had given her prospective boyfriend a trial by satin thanks to Bikini Beach had the right idea. "Her husband Thomas was killed - murdered on his way home from work. What insurance they have will take care of the house for her, but there won't be much left afterwards - and she's going to need the money," the Old Woman said, tears now running freely down her cheeks. "Oh, Grandmother, how awful! And he was such a wonderful man, too." "Yes, he was." "What are you going to do about Elaine?" The Old Woman shrugged. "Give her the money until I can figure out a way to get her back with us. I think she will need us in the near future." "Can't we give her a job? She's wonderful with her little girls, and the daycare center can always use one more loving heart and an extra pair of caring hands?" A watery smile lit the Old Woman's face. "A wonderful notion, dear. Let me think about how to approach her. She and her family would have our excellent employee benefits, too, which naturally include free memberships." The Old Woman beamed proudly down at her granddaughter. So powerful, she thought, and yet so loving, too. "You are a comfort to me, Anya." Anya was spared having to reply to that bit of unexpected praise when her phone buzzed. She answered it, listened for a moment and then told the receptionist, "Please show him into my office." The door opened to admit a man in a dark gray suit. Anya studied him for a moment, trying to read him and take his measure. He wasn't tall, no more than five feet six or seven inches, but with an unusually muscular frame for his height - broad shouldered yet slim hipped. *Must spend a good deal of time at the gym,* was her quick assessment. His hair was cut short in an almost military crewcut. His face was ruggedly masculine, almost harsh, with dark eyes that seemed to be constantly moving. "Miss..." he asked in a quiet, deep voice as he held out his hand in greeting. "Oh, please call me Anya," she said, "And this is my Grandmother..." The Old Woman stood and offered her own hand, "I am known as Mrs. Beach, young man." Anya liked the way he greeted her. His grip was firm, but not crushing and his eyes met hers and stayed at eye level, despite the fact that she was wearing her usually scanty beach attire on her very shapely form. "I am Lieutenant Alex Kowalchek, Anya, Mrs. Beach, from the city police department. Thank you for seeing me so quickly." "You indicated your purpose here was of some importance, Lieutenant," Anya said, "Please, sit down and tell us what we can do to help you." He sat and then said baldly, "You can help me stop a serial killer." Both women were taken aback by this, and it was the Old Woman who recovered first. "A serial killer? I didn't know of any serial killer in our area." "That is because the victims are all men and because the M.O. has been different for each one. Both of those factors are unusual in the extreme for such murderers. Serial killers are thought to be more likely to go after women or children, and usually have a recurring modes operandi that distinguishes their crimes and the victims. However, I have found a connection that leads me to suspect... actually, that has convinced me, that there is one killer. "How many victims?" the Old Woman asked in a suddenly cold and quiet voice. "Eight that I am sure of, Ma'am. Two more highly probable ones, that I believe I can confirm today with your help. However, to do that and then to stop him, I will need your complete cooperation." "And what could we do, sir?" Anya asked, "We simply run a beach park for women. What could we possibly do to assist you in this?" "I have reason to believe that a killer is stalking people who have come to your park," he paused at that and then fixed his gaze on the Old Woman, "Men who have been here, transformed into women, and then changed back." "What? Just what kind of establishment do you think we run here, Lieutenant?" Anya snapped out, as sarcastically as she could manage under the circumstances. "One of those make-over parlors for men who like to dress up and look like women?" She cast a worried glance at her Grandmother, who was quietly staring at the Lieutenant, her eyes very intense. "Anya," Kowalcheck continued in a very soft, very gentle voice. "I have had your place under surveillance now for two weeks. I have seen men walk in, but no men walk out. Whatever it is you do in here, it is not some type of kinky fetish game because you have women with their children in here. And many of the men are physically unsuited to being able to pass as women anyway." "So, Lieutenant, you are saying you believe in magic?" the Old Woman asked, her voice defiant. "I believe in facts, Ma'am," Alex replied firmly. "I have facts which are as I just presented them to you. The answer your lovely granddaughter just offered does not fit those facts." "I see," the Old Woman replied. "So, tell me, Lieutenant, who has died?" "Most recently, a man named Thomas Summers." Anya's gasp interrupted him. "He was run off the road near here a week ago. He died in the hospital two days later. I can give you a list of those men I know were involved here as well as those two who I think, for no other reason than that I have no good motive for their murder, might have been victims." "May I see the list?" The Old Woman asked. Kowalchek passed over a piece of paper drawn from his folio. Anya watched her Grandmother scan the list and knew instantly when she began recognizing names. Her eyes burning, she picked up a pencil and began making checkmarks on the page. That done, she stiffly handed the paper back. "The ones I have marked are... were at one time or another... guests of the park. The other one, I have to check our records, but the name is familiar." Her voice broke for a moment, but only for a moment. "They... they are all dead?" Kowalchek nodded. "Very well," the Old Woman said, putting aside her pain to be dealt with later in private, "How can I help you?" "Just like that?" Kowalchek was surprised. "What did you expect me to do, Lieutenant? Prevaricate? Refuse to cooperate with you? The men on your list were guests of mine, sir, people with whom I shared a special gift. Some were not the best of men, but they left here better men and none of them deserved this fate - and most certainly not because they simply spent a day or two at my park. Of course I will assist you in any way that I can." "As will I," Anya put in firmly. "Well, I guess the first thing I need to do is find out what you do here. Once I have that, I will need access to your membership records... " then suddenly, Alex stopped. He sighed. "Ma'am?" "Oh, call me Grandmother," the Old Woman ordered, "like Anya does." He grinned at the offer. The change that made in his stern countenance was stunning, making him look years younger and much more handsome. For just a moment, Anya wondered if it were his responsibilities that so hardened his features, or if the loss of his family might be more at fault. "Thank you," the Lieutenant said. "But you should know that this isn't really a sanctioned investigation. As I said, the brass doesn't agree that this is a serial killer and will not be real pleased with me for pursuing this." "You've convinced me, Alexander," the Old Woman said, her tone implying that was all that was necessary. "Now, Anya will show you what you need to see. We haven't opened yet, so you can also tour our other facilities... as you are." "No shower, Grandmother?" Anya was goggle eyed. "No. Just have him back here in the offices before we open. If necessary, delay the opening until the Lieutenant has seen what he feels he needs to see. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have to interview a new employee." Alex rose and offered his hand to the Old Woman. "Thank you, Ma'... I mean, Grandmother." "Nicely done, Alexander," the Old Woman approved. "Now, run along with Anya and find this person." "Well, you have no idea how much you rate, Lieutenant," Anya said as she rose from her seat, "but perhaps you soon will. Come along. I need to show you the outer facilities before we open at eleven." ~---- It was afternoon teatime when Anya was again able to sit down with her Grandmother. "So, how did Alexander react to your explanations?" "That's really strange, Grandmother. He accepted them without qualm. He's such a realist that I would have thought him to be completely skeptical of magic." "Remember what he said, dear, about facts. There is a difference between being a realist and a skeptic. Alexander accepts the evidence of his eyes and brain. Did he see a transformation?" "Yes. A father and son who came here to get away from difficult situation at home. I sold them a day pass and adjusted the magic so that they would be oblivious to the changes and only remember the good time they had here." "Losing a mother is always difficult. That father is a good one, though. The boy will be well cared for. You did well on that one, Anya." "But the point is, Grandmother, that Alex believed before he saw that." "And your point is?" "That type of man NEVER believes until he's wearing a bra and going to the bathroom sitting down." "ANYA! Let's not be crude," the Old Woman reproved firmly before continuing. "However, I take your point, and had I not met him, I would have likely agreed with you. Alexander is a special man." "Special? In what way, aside from his abject worship at the altars of minutia, detail and fact?" "I am not sure precisely why, but when reality warps around him, he still retains his memories of what was." "But how?" "As I said, I am not sure. There are a variety of possible reasons. Perhaps, it is that very commitment to the truth and to justice that forces him to use resources others may have, but never call upon." Anya considered that, but then shrugged it aside. "I suppose. I know that I have never encountered his like before, Grandmother." "So, what is this plan you mentioned, my dear?" Anya shifted in her seat and became very uncomfortable. "I don't like it, Grandmother," she said finally. "I gathered that from your aura, child. Precisely what is it about Alexander's plan that you do not like?" "You might better ask me what part of it I DO like, Grandmother," she replied taking in a deep breath to calm her reservations. "First, he's going to go through our files and look for possible suspects, although how he'll find them I don't know." "Seems like a logical first step. Why should that bother you? Do you think he will ultimately try to betray us in some way?" "Oh, that's not an issue. He's already promised to keep our secrets, so betraying us that way would be a lie, and thus a sin against Truth with a capital 'T'. No, it is his alternate plan I don't like. Assuming he cannot figure out who the murderer is simply by checking our records, he hopes to find some type of pattern to the murders that he can use to flush out the killer." "And how does he think to do that, Anya?" the Old Woman asked, fearing she already knew the answer. "He's planning to start coming here as a day-passer and try to set himself up as a possible victim." "Oh." And there was a world of inference in that tone. "I cannot say that I like that option either, my child, but I doubt we could stop him, short of refusing him access to the showers. He will do what he thinks must be done, I think, for our Alexander is one of those who truly believes in the old police motto of "To Serve and Protect." "Fine!" Anya snapped in exasperation. "But there is a difference in doing your job, regardless of how dangerous it might be and considering something that may be suicidal. There's been enough killing already, Grandmother. He might be next." "And he might not. We must let him do his job, dear, although perhaps not without a little help from his friends." Anya looked up to see a familiar twinkle in her Grandmother's eye. ~---- Alex arrived after the park closed for the day to find Anya waiting for him. "I've downloaded our membership records into this PC," she told him indicating a machine set up on a table in her office. So you can sort and filter and query to your heart's content." "All your members?" Alex asked. Anya frowned, then sighed. "I was going to download only the men and those who used to be men, but Grandmother stopped me." The girl tossed her hair in some agitation. "Said something about the female being deadlier than the male and that we couldn't permit our feminist biases limit your investigation." "I want to help the ones you like, Anya, and to protect them, but suppose this murderer is a woman and you didn't give me access to those records? I don't think it is a woman, but just suppose she killed again while I was chasing down false leads because I didn't have all the facts?" "Help and protect," Anya said softly. "Odd you should say it that way. Okay, let me show you how this works. I've given you everything - home addresses, phone numbers, family members and the dates they visited the park." "Excellent. When do I have to leave?" "You don't," Anya said. "I have decided to stay here until you are ready to leave. Even moved a cot into the next room." "That's not necessary." "Yes, it is. There are magical defenses around here, wards we call them. They're like invisible traps. We can't turn them off for security reasons and you won't be safe here without Grandmother or I to protect you from them." Alex wanted to argue, but thought better of it. "All right. Let's get started." ~---- The sun was just creeping over the horizon when Anya awoke. Quietly, she padded back into her office where she found Alex asleep in his chair, a sheaf of papers clutched tightly in one hand. She slipped from the room and went off to make coffee. The drip coffee maker had just begun it's final hissing growl when Alex appeared at the door of the office complex's small kitchenette. "That is mighty loud-smelling coffee you have there, Anya," he said with a tired smile. "It's almost ready. How did it go last night? Find out anything new?" He shook his head. "Not really, at least, not yet. Too much data and too little time to digest it. Although I must admit that I was more than a little surprised by the names of some of the men who have been here since the murders started." "True. Some have come once and then never returned again. Others have bought lifetime memberships and thus remained women." "Or little girls," Alex said his eyes instantly cold. "I was rather astonished to discover that, as well." "Growing up female is a special dream for many men," Anya replied. "Why don't I believe that is case - at least not always?" Anya regarded the man for several moments, then shrugged diffidently. "If your suspicions are true, there's little you can do about it." "DAMMIT!" Alex growled. "I have to trust you and that Grandmother of yours, and you as much as tell me your ethics and morality are so low as that?!?" "It isn't like that," Anya said quietly. "Sometimes the world is a better, safer place if certain individuals... well, cease to have ever lived." "Do you think your power gives you the right to be judge, jury and executioner? To be law unto yourselves?" Anya poured the coffee and handed a cup to the very upset police officer. "Is everything in your world so very black and white, Alex? "There is such a thing as the law, and more importantly, right and wrong. We have laws and courts where the facts decide guilt or innocense and twelve good men and women, honest and true, recommend punishment. That's the way it is supposed to work." "And you believe that it does work that way?" "When I and my fellow cops do our job correctly, it DOES work that way." "I almost expect you to say 'that is illogical,'" Anya said with a grim smile, "Or tell me the probability of my fallibility in such instances to three or four decimal places." Alexander's countenance lightened just a bit. "Only approximately," he corrected, "And my ears are not that pointy. However, that is not the question here. You really see nothing wrong with stripping a man's identity from him? You realize that you are effectively killing that person?" "I don't know how to answer that question for you, Alex, in a way that you could understand or accept. First, I don't kill him, at least from my point of view, for his soul survives and has a second chance to live a useful and productive life." She took a sip of her own coffee. "But yes, sometimes we do assume the role of judge and jury. Ever read Spider-Man comic books, Alex?" "What?" he asked, confused. "Spider-Man? What the hell does that have to do with anything?" "Did you?" Anya asked again, her eyes steady. "Okay, I'll play along. Yes, I read Spidey in my misspent youth. So?" "With great power comes great responsibility," Anya quoted softly. "That's a helluva rationalization, lady," Alex retorted. "Perhaps. Look, let me tell you a story about one of those involuntary changes and maybe it will help you understand." Anya told him of a drunk driver who had killed a little girl. His wife had tricked him into coming to Bikini Beach where he was turned into a little girl - a little girl who then became close friends with the girl who had then NOT died because the person who would have killed her no longer existed in the new reality. "And in the end, that little girl asked to be changed permanently, and to have HIS memories erased so that her friend would stay alive and so she herself would not have to live with the memory of what her male self had done." Alex sat down, deeply in thought. Finally he sighed. "From the data you gave me, I suspect that I could easily prove that there are other cases where you didn't have the final agreement of the person, but as you say, what can I do? I'd get laughed out of the DA's office if I tried to accuse you of civil rights violations. I still don't agree with you doing such things without the volition of the person." Anya considered that and shrugged. "From your perspective, I can understand that. My Grandmother tends to take the side of women who need help and protection. Men who threaten or hurt women have gotten far better treatment than they deserve here, at least in my opinion. My conscience is clear on that score." "Absolute power and corruption, Anya," Alex warned, but his voice was lighter now. "We'll have to agree to disagree, Alex. Perhaps one day, you will tell me why you have made yourself into so rigid a personality. I'd like to understand," Anya waited, hoping he'd begin, but then shrugged when he did not respond. "So, what are your plans for the day?" "Well, today's my off-duty day, so I figured I would beg a shower from you here and then run some errands." Anya's eyes went wide. "'Beg a shower'? You don't want to take a shower here. Don't you remember what happens in our showers?" "I figured I would find out what it was like, so that I would be more comfortable with the... uh, new me when I go out on decoy duty wearing the new undercover disguise." "Well, if you are sure that's what you want..." "Want? Not hardly, but it is the only thing I can think of to do." "Well, we said we'd help. Wait here a moment." Anya stood and left the room, returning a few moments later with her arms full. She handed him a ticket first. "As you know, we are a club. This is a one-day visitor's pass. The way that works is that you will return to your normal self sometime after midnight tonight." Then she handed him a fluffy white towel and some bottles. "Shampoo, cream rinse and some other sundries - and a bathing suit, of course," she added with her eyes twinkling. "What about clothing? Women's stuff, that is?" "Put your guy clothes in a locker before you shower. They will change when you do and change back when you do, too. Oh, and I've adjusted the magic so that Alex Kowalchek will still exist in this reality after you change. He just won't be available if someone is looking for him." "Amazing," Alex replied. "If it did not fit the facts and seen it happen myself..." he trailed off, wonder in his voice. Then he continued. "Well, guess I will go take that shower. Will I be... well, that is... I mean..." "What?" Anya asked, grinning. "Will you be a looker? Guess that will just have to be a surprise, buster. Now, scoot." She watched him leave and then went to her office. She saw he'd left the computer on, and that the database was still loaded. Curious, she sat down and scanned the list of victims Alex had showed Anya's Grandmother. Her fingers itched to play with the keys and she held them stiffly in her lap. "Oh heck, what harm could it do?" ~---- Twenty minutes later, Allie Kowalchek slipped into the office. She was a pretty young jade-eyed redhead, her creamy porcelain skin speckled lightly with freckles. She was also very petite. "Well, at least I'm modestly built," the musical voice said as Anya grinned. "Although I think I would have preferred to be at least a little stronger." "You're what you would have been if Alex had really been Allie." Allie held up a hairbrush. "Care to show me how to handle this mass of hair? And I will need lessons with that makeup kit that replaced the shaving kit in my gymbag-turned college- girl's backpack." "You will do fine. Just let your mind go blank before you try to do anything like that. I added 'training wheels' to your enchantment. By the way, I found something while you were changing, in the data." "Oh?" the tone was light and feminine, but the intensity was pure Alex. Eyes suddenly hard, Allie was at the computer instantly. "What?" "All of the victims were here on the same day about a year and a half ago which was about a month before your first suspected murder. Along with six other guys who later changed back to their male selves at the end of their temporary membership periods." "GOD! How did I miss THAT?" Allie growled. "I am more used to the types of data we take, Allie," Anya said gently. "I am sure it would have occurred to you once you became more familiar with the database. But, look here, okay?" she pointed to the screen. Allie's eyes, followed Anya's finger, looking over her shoulder. "Hmmm... I see. All right, Miss Expert," Allie said in pert tones that almost had Anya giving the other girl a double take, "What else can you tell me about the victims?" "Well, for one thing, all of the victims were repeat-visitors here at the park. Each of them purchased temporary memberships with us at least once more before they... before they died." "Fascinating," Allie said in a slow, throaty drawl. "How about the ones who did not die?" Anya tapped out a query and waited for the results to pop up. "Hmmmm... two of the ones still living are also repeaters - one was in for the weekend just a couple of weeks ago. Here, see?" Allie looked at the screen and reached for Alex's small spiral notebook, but stopped short. "It can't be," she whispered. "What?" Anya asked. "That name!" the transformed cop said, pointing to one record on the screen "It can't be! Not him." Anya looked at the name and searched her memory. "Him. Yes, I remember him. Came here alone and demanded entry. Bad aura, and he was looking for trouble. His wife is a member and he was looking for her. I adjusted the magic so that the woman he became had other things on HER mind after he showered, like sunbathing and dreaming of HER next date. But look, if we're right about repeat-visitors being at risk, he's not in any danger. He never came back." "Then," Allie's voice became very quiet, "There is a very strong possibility that he is the murderer, Anya. Only problem is that proving he's the murderer is going to be a real bear. I need to talk to your Grandmother. When will she be in?" ~---- "My, aren't you lovely, Allie," the Old Woman said as she greeted the transformed police officer. "Anya said you needed to speak with me?" "My plan of being a decoy won't work," Allie said, her voice flat. "Well, I cannot say that displeases me very much, dear. I had hoped you could find a means to capture this monster without putting yourself in too much danger, but you have aroused my curiosity. Why won't that plan work?" "Because the killer knows me." "I see," the Old Woman said softly. "You are that certain you know who he is?" The long red locks bounced as Allie nodded. "The facts all fit, Grandmother. I am convinced that the murderer is one James Mason. Occupation: Assistant Chief of Police of our fine city. I wasn't sure until Anya told me how he'd ended up in here in the first place. While that bit of information is either psychic or anecdotal, and therefore not admissible in a court of law, it is nonetheless telling, I think." The pretty young face looked up to grin at the Old Woman. "You just have to believe in magic to be convinced, is all." Allie stood and began pacing about the room, her face set in a furious mask completely at odds with her youthful features. "Ever hear of the solid blue wall? Of course you have," she answered herself. "I saw Jana's name on your list of members and discovered she's a transformee, so you must know how some things, and in this case BAD things, happen in Department because cops don't want to report on other cops. Jimmy Mason is a career cop, and by his record, a pretty good one although he's made his mark more behind a desk than on the streets." "And yet, you believe he is this murderer you came here to find?" Her jade eyes flashed green fire as Allie nodded emphatically. "What isn't on the record is that twice during his career on the force, he was an inch away from being canned. Back in his days on the vice squad, he developed the habit of roughing up the working girls. His boss at the time covered that up. After all, he was a 'good cop' and those women were nothing but hookers, but it still became common knowledge around the precinct. He was ordered to see a shrink to get help learning how to control his 'unusual temper'. Old Jimmy went for the minimum number of office visits, the overworked doc signed him off and although they got him out of vice, he was back on the job in a couple of months. Nothing more was said about it." "But it wasn't over, was it?" "No. He just started getting his jollies closer to home - knocking around his wife. Eventually, that came out, too, but not before the brown-nosing bastard made Assistant Chief. I don't know why she never brought charges against him, but at least now he won't make chief. She's getting a divorce and he's fighting to keep from being dismissed." The Old Woman nodded. "And you are convinced he is the murderer?" she asked again. The girl began ticking off points with a beautifully manicured finger. "He was here and transformed the same day that his wife and all of the other victims were here and transformed. He knows investigative procedure well enough to intentionally change his method of killing in each case. He isn't leaving any 'calling cards' when he strikes, nor is he leaving behind any useful trace evidence such as fibers or hair. And most telling of all, I think, is the fact that he was the one who ultimately shot down my serial killer theory and killed my official investigation." "Rather circumstantial evidence, if I might point out, and hardly the facts you need to take this to court." Allie gave the Old Woman a startled look. "You know, you're right. Still, it is a starting hypothesis that fits the facts as I currently know them, and for some reason, I think it is a very good one. Call it a gut reaction." "I might prefer to call it 'feminine intuition', dear, she replied, grinning broadly at the wince on the young policewoman's face, "But I find that I am in full agreement with you. However, if we accept this hypothesis of yours, I can see why you now believe that it is unlikely that he will choose you as a target." "I simply don't fit the profile Anya has uncovered, Grandmother. I could come here every other day for a month. . a year, even, and if we are right about his motivation for the killings, he wouldn't lift a finger against me. I wasn't here that first day and so - in his mind, at least -I am not associated with his wife." "You think he is trying to kill his wife's lover?" Allie shrugged. "Again that is a gut re... I mean, a conjecture, but I think that is a strong possibility. All I know for sure is that he and his wife were both here the same day that all of his victims to date were here. I also know that all of his victims were repeat-visitors, and I know that two of the men on that list of Anya's are still alive and fit that hypothetical killing profile." "What will you do, then?" "I just don't know! The two remaining men should be put under police protection, but there's no way I can justify that to the powers-that-be. No facts or evidence that I can use to show cause, at least without explaining about Bikini Beach," Allie said, settling back into her chair. "Not to mention the fact that with Mason as Assistant Chief, protective police custody might be the worst place for them. Isn't there something you can do? Surely, you have the power?" "I am afraid I am more limited than you might believe, Allie. Outside of my park, there is little that I can do." "I'd put them under surveillance, but I am still manpower... or is that woman power? - limited. There is only one of me and there are two of them." "Jana, perhaps? She is also a police officer who is well aware of what goes on here at my little park." "That would be better, but still insufficient. We have to rest sometime and besides, the investigation is not approved. We'd still have to show up for work on top of all that." "When are the two men most at risk? Surely not when they are at work or at home?" "No. The murders have so far taken place away from home and their places of business, but Mason is smart enough to see those patterns, too." "Then perhaps the thing for you and Jana to do is to put the chief under surveillance." "Assistant Chief," Allie corrected automatically, then started at the thought. "You maybe right, but if I get caught at this..." "Well, Alex can keep track of him during working hours fairly easily, but he doesn't know Allie, does he?" Allie shook her head. "Very well, perhaps between you and Jana, you could share the surveillance off hours. You cannot change back and forth every day without dangerous side effects, but with my help, you could handle it every other night for a month or so if you could spend most of, say, one weekend in three without any changing at all." "It would take some planning, and this Jana would have to agree to working a lot of double shifts, too." "I am sure she will be more than willing. You are, in fact, kindred spirits. In another life, you might have been friends. Well, you have errands to run, and you should take advantage of the park while you can. I will see what I can do for you." ~---- A month later. Anya waited outside the men's locker room while Alex showered, the pink mist rising above the open walls signaling the accompanying change of gender. Moments later, the diminutive figure of Allie Kowalchek appeared, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of black slacks. "Hi!" Allie smiled at her friend. "Hi yourself!" Anya replied. "So, how are you feeling? No signs of the addiction-effect Grandmother described to you? And I will know if you try to lie to me." Allie chuckled. "I am fine, momma hen. Better than fine, actually," she went on, more seriously. "I'd noticed, actually." Anya asked. "You're not so much the logical, fact drive 'Mr. Spock' clone after you take one of Grandmother's special showers." At Allie's suddenly hard, very- much-Alex-the-cop look, Anya held up her hands in mock self protection. "No, no, you're still a cop and you're still very good at what you do. You're just more... I don't know, flexible, maybe? Certainly a lot less pedantic. Kind of like Spock when his human side was ascendant over his Vulcan side. Still smart and capable, just more... well, human." "Fascinating," Allie drawled, trying to sound like Leonard Nimoy, and failing dramatically, thanks to her crystalline soprano voice. Both girls laughed at that. "So, you like it? Being a girl, that is?" "Well, it is kind of hard to explain, but I am enjoying my time being a woman. Certain... painful things in Alex's life don't seem to hurt so much when I am Allie. I can let loose and have fun again, like I could before..." "Before your wife and little girl were killed?" Anya finished, having 'seen' that in her friend's mind. "Yup," Allie said, her voice a little shaky. "Meg and I grew up together, and knew... almost from our first day in kindergarten together... that we were meant for each other. There isn't a morning I don't wake up and look for her next to me in my bed, or a day I don't think of something I want to share with her. Bethanne, our nine-year-old little girl, was ninety percent angel and ten percent imp and all ours. I've tried to fill the hole their deaths have left in my world with work, with other women - even with booze, but none of that works. Somehow, though, that hole isn't so large when I am Allie." "That's probably because, even though Grandmother has fixed it so your changes don't alter reality, you are still a woman now, and a woman cannot father a child. You 'remember' your daughter and your wife, but perhaps you don't FEEL them quite so much as you do when you are Alex." "Maybe that's it," the petite redhead replied, but there was something in her voice. "Is that why Alex became such a fact-driven perfectionist, Allie? So that he couldn't feel as much? If so, that is a very sad and lonely way to live." "That's certainly part of it. Down at the precinct, they think of me as some avenging angel-type, out to bring down the bastards who prey on the innocent and determined never to have a case thrown out because the facts and the evidence didn't fit or were in someway contaminated." "'They think', Allie? You mean that isn't the real answer?" Allie looked up into the soft, caring eyes of the woman she had come to call 'friend', and sighed. "You sure you want to know? I've never told anyone this before, and I would rather not lose your friendship." Anya waved that away. "You know my darkest secrets. Surely I can help share yours, because really, Allie, you look like you need someone else to help with that burden." Taking a very deep breath, Allie blurted out. "I killed him!" Anya's eyes went wide. "Killed who? Oh, the animal who murdered your family?" Allie nodded. "I wasn't supposed to be on the case, but I was anyway. The captain covered it up so the press never got wind of my activities. We had the bastard on a major drug bust, but it wasn't enough. We couldn't connect him to the murder of my family. He'd be granted bail and he had enough money stashed to skip. I went 'undercover' one night and got lucky - there was a meet. I called for backup. I didn't tell them to make a covert approach. They heard sirens and started to run. I pulled out my weapon and ordered them to stand fast. One of the punks pulled his own piece and fired. I returned fire and took him down, but not before my first shot accidently went a little wild and hit my family's murderer between the eyes." "Accidently on purpose?" Anya asked. Tears began to run down Allie's cheeks. "I've asked myself that question a million times, Anya, and the only answer I have is that I don't know. I wanted him dead and I shoot expert with my nine millimeter police-issue automatic. He was close to my target, but... I just don't know. Internal Affairs got involved and raked me across the coals pretty good for several days, but in the end, I was exonerated." "And that led to your fetish for facts and perfect chains of evidence?" "A week or so after the shooting, we finally broke the murder case on my family. Caught the bomber and he sang on that case and a number of others. If I had not killed the druggie, he'd be on death row right now. So I made myself a promise, sort of a penance, I guess. I'd get the bastards who hurt or killed the innocent or who let others get away with the killing and the hurting, but I would do it by the book. I would wrap them up in facts, truth and evidence so tightly, so perfectly, that no one would EVER break one of my cases. The victims, like my Meggie and my little Bethie-Anne, deserve justice, and I would get it for them, but never again at the risk of my own soul. I'd get them, but I would never again go down to the criminals' level to do it." "I see," Anya replied. "Well, my only regret is that you didn't bring that druggie here. There are a number of houses of ill repute in some of the less civilized South American cities that can always use another drug-addicted prostitute, particularly one who remembers being a vicious male drug lord but can't do a damn thing about it." Allie gaped at Anya. "Lord, what a concept. I think I regret that, too. But. . but, you don't... well, think I am a hypocrite now that you know my story?" "Of course not. For one thing, I DO believe that it was an accident because I know you, both as Allie and as Alex, and second, because I think that animal got off easy. YOU are the one, or at least, ALEX is the one who has suffered because of that shooting and who is continuing to suffer to this day. So, I think it is wonderful that you came here and got to meet Allie. Maybe SHE will help you find some fun and peace in your life." "Well, I sure have enjoyed some new experiences as Allie, when I am not tailing Mason, that is. Heavens, I even went shopping with you last Sunday and loved every minute of it. Alex orders all his clothes by mail order and hates spending THAT much time on it." "Barbarous!" Anya replied, causing both girls to break out in a fit of giggles. "So, girlfriend, since this coming weekend is an "allie-weekend" for you, what do you say we go do a little clubbing together when you're off duty? Say, Saturday?" "Clubbing," a single, finely shaped brow arched. "As in, where the guys are?" "Girls, too," Anya said smoothly, "And good food, drink, music and laughter. You don't have enough of any of those in your life. So what do you say?" "Welllllllll... if you promise not to push me at any guys, I will think about it." Anya grinned and made a cross over her heart. "Girl Scout's Honor," she said. "Were you REALLY a Girl Scout?" Allie retorted, but before Anya could reply, they were interrupted by Allie's cellular phone. She answered it. "Allie?" she heard in the earpiece. "It's Jana. Mason is moving and it feels funny, okay? He's headed for downtown and in all the time I've been tailing him, he hasn't done that before." "Not when I've watched him, either. I'm on my way from the park. I will call you in ten minutes for a rendezvous." "Roger that." Allie heard the phone disconnect. "Gotta run. Something is up." "Be careful, dear," Anya ordered with a quick hug. "Always! Wish me luck," Allie replied and ran out the door. "Luck, girlfriend. A whole great big pile of it." Anya turned and was almost surprised to see her Grandmother standing beside her. "She will need it tonight," the Old Woman said softly. "I can feel it." ~---- The little late-model Honda that magically replaced Alex's unmarked cruiser whenever he changed to Allie lacked both the power and the electronics of a police vehicle. Allie regretted those oversights and should have asked Anya to fix those omissions, but could do nothing about it now. She pulled out the cell phone and dialed Jana. "I'm still on him," the officer reported. "I think he's heading for subject number two's Masonic Lodge." "Roger that, Jana. I will head there directly. Let me know if his objective changes." "Roger, out." Allie arrived at the old lodge building and took up a position to watch. Suddenly, sirens filled the night and two black and whites flashed past her heading toward the outskirts of town. Allie again wished she at least had a police scanner in this car. *What the hell is the good of magic if you can't have what you need when you need it?* she thought in frustration. A half hour later, there was no sign of either Mason or Jana. Several calls to her unofficial partner had resulted in no response over the cell phone other than the recorded "The person you are trying to reach is either out of the calling area or has turned the phone off." That was possible, Allie mused, if Jana was close to Mason and did not want the phone's ringing to alert her target, but it was still very disturbing. Worse, she had no idea at all where Mason was at that moment. Just then, the door of the lodge opened and the members filed out, calling out their farewells to each other as they went to their cars. Sighing, Allie prepared to leave and locate Jana when a loud explosion brought her up short. Snatching up her purse for the small 25 caliber automatic hidden inside, she jumped out of her car and ran toward the sound. She saw a flaming mass that had once been a car and a group of men yelling and gesticulating when there was a flash of bright light in the back of her head an instant before her skull exploded painfully. ~---- She woke up slowly and painfully some time later. The dawning sun shown painfully into Allie's eyes and she tried to shift her position to escape its rays but stopped moving instantly when something cold and metallic was pressed against her head. "Don't move, Kowalchek," an amused male voice ordered. Alex opened his eyes and saw James Mason smiling down at him. "You know, Alex, I didn't watch either time I changed. It will be rather fascinating watching you become a male again. You failed, by the way," he added, almost conversationally. "Failed?" Allie asked, her mind still muddled. "Failed. That no-good adulterous bastard is dead. I only have one more to kill and then, my dear wife will have no choice but to listen to me and to come home where she belongs. That will put an end, once and for all, to those evil rumors about me being a wife abuser. Once my pretty blond slut is back by my side, I will once again be the number one candidate for the Chief's job when he retires next year." "Don't know what... you're talking about." "Don't take me for a fool, Kowalchek!" Mason snapped. "I must say, though, you're almost as good as your reputation. I don't know how you caught the Bikini Beach connection, but you did. It was such a sweet setup for my little administrations of justice. I mean, no rational, modern person would believe that the thing that connected all those necessary executions was that the condemned men liked become women at a park where real magic happened." Mason's voice had an odd pitch to it, and Allie wondered if that was some sort of madness talking. *Of course it's madness, Kowalchek,* her mind retorted. *Sane people don't just murder ten... no, eleven human beings and all it justice. Well, if he's crazy, then that may be my only chance. Keep him talking, Allie, keep him talking.* "Until I came on the scene." "Yes, that was unfortunate - for YOU. Sadly, your partner and your feminine alter ego weren't nearly as good at covert surveillance as you needed to be. Only two cars and the same ones night after night? Bad tactics, Kowalchek, very bad tactics. I was on to you two, almost three weeks ago." "Where is Jana," Allie demanded all the while praying that the transformed cop had not already been killed by this lunatic. "Right over there," Mason said with a grin, motioning with the gun. "Have a look." Allie turned and felt her blood run cold. Jana was gagged and handcuffed, her body propped up against a white marble monument that Allie instantly recognized. "'Beloved wife and daughter - Megan and Bethanne Kowalchek.'" Mason read aloud. "How sweet. A lovely place to die, don't you think?" Mason asked as he took a seat on the simple marble grave marker. "What are you going to do?" Allie hissed, her hands flexing and unflexing in fury at this bastard defiling the ground made sacred by the remains of his wife and daughter. Mason turned to glance down at Jana and Allie saw her chance. *NOW!* her mind roared as she coiled to spring. Mason caught the movement in his peripheral vision and saw the lethal intent flash in his adversary's eyes. With one smooth, practiced motion, he brought Allie's automatic to bear and snapped off a shot with the small caliber weapon. Allie screamed as the bullet tore into her right knee, destroying bone and muscle in its savage flight. "Don't try anything like that again," Mason ordered coldly. "Or I'll put the next round in your other ankle. As to what we're going to do, you are going to be the star of a little murder/suicide drama I've scripted out. You and this little bitch have been found guilty of aiding and abetting convicted criminals, namely my adulterous wife and her bastard lovers. You are both sentenced to death." "You are nuts, Mason. Really looney tunes. Do really think anyone will buy that scenario? Alex Kowalchek hardly knows this officer and as a female, I don't really exist in this reality." "Oh, the right will prevail, Kowalchek. I'll find a way to make this stick, never fear. As to your so-lovely feminine identity, well, we'll just wait until you change back into Alex, whereupon this," and he held up the little lady's pocket gun, "will once again become your issued weapon. Then, I will shoot you in the head and this fine young officer in the heart. I will replace my handcuffs with yours, and press the death weapon into your hand. Everyone knows how much you miss your darling family, Kowalchek, and how much you blame yourself for their deaths." "Fool!" Allie ground out, fighting the intense agony from her wrecked knee. "How does that all work with my knee in pieces from that bullet you just put in me." Mason shrugged. "Come now, Kowalchek, that is the least of my worries. You know as well as I do that reality changes when that woman's magic is at work. Your knee will be fine because in that reality because when there is an Alex, there is no "Allie", so Allie couldn't have been shot." The world around Allie began to spin and she felt a bit nauseous. "And it looks like Alex is just about to rejoin us," Mason gloated. When Alex's eyes finally cleared, all he saw was his Glock police issue nine millimeter pointed at him. "Time to die, Kowalchek," Mason said gloatingly. Alex closed his eyes and wished he'd done a better job of this when an odd sound, sort of like a "thwip-thud" sounded in his ears. Mason gave a choking sound and Alex opened his eyes in time to see the man fall to the ground, holding his chest. Anya was on him in an instant, an oddly shaped weapon in her hand. "Tranquilizer gun," she said reading his mind. "God, what did he do to you?" she demanded. "Huh?" Alex asked just before he felt Anya move his leg and screamed. "He said... it wouldn't wounded... after..." and for the second time in mere hours, Alex passed out. ~---- When Alex woke up, he was laying on the sofa in the Old Woman's office. Looking around, he saw Anya dozing in the nearby easy chair, a sleeping baby laying atop her. He tried to sit up, for the call of nature was upon him, but raw, cutting pain in his leg stopped him. His exclamation of pain awoke Anya. She rose, settled the baby in a bassinet, and came over to him. "How are you feeling?" "Like I wish this leg belonged to someone else. Jana? Is she all right?" "Sleeping, but fine. A bit of a headache is all." "What about Mason? He's crazy, Anya. He'll kill that last fellow and then who knows what he'll do next. Maybe even try to go after you and Grandmother." "No he won't because he no longer exists. In fact, he has never existed." Alex looked at her for a moment and then it all became clear. "The baby?" "Yes," Anya said firmly. "Just as well," Alex replied. "Are all the victims alive again, now that he's gone forever?" "No, they're not, and so far, Grandmother and I haven't been able to figure out why." "I think I know," the Old Woman said from the door. "What?" Alex and Anya demanded, almost in unison. The Old Woman moved a chair over near the sofa and sat down. She regarded Alex intently before speaking. "Mason was correct, Alex. Your leg should have been uninjured following the change this morning. The reason it did not is the same reason Elaine and all those other women are still widows." "Why?" Alex asked. "You're the reason, Alex. You have an eidetic memory; what is popularly known as a photographic memory. On top of that, you also have a significant if untrained natural talent for magic. The combination of the two is preventing the shift in reality needed to undo all the damage Mason caused. Unconsciously, you are resisting my magic and bolstering the current reality." "Can't we do anything?" Alex asked, the combination of the pain in his leg and the pain in his heart nearly bringing him to tears. "Can't you do anything?" "Yes," the Old Woman said. "There is something I can do, but it requires a great sacrifice of you, dear boy." Alex looked at her for a long moment, and then he understood. "Like that drunk driver, right? The one who changed and then forgot his other life. If I no longer exist, and if I cannot remember, then this magic talent you say I have cannot resist the change in reality." The Old Woman nodded. "You are correct, Alexander, however, there is one small problem. Normally, I could cause the needed memory loss without any real difficulty, but not with you. Again, your magic will resist me. I could handle that, if not for the physiological advantages that makes your brain so efficient at memory. The combination of your magic and your memory is more than I can cope with, even with Anya's assistance." "Then, there's no hope at all?" "There is one chance, Alexander. The very, very young brain is not yet complex enough, has not yet made the neural pathway connections necessary to maintain the type of perfect recall you currently possess. If your brain is that young, the number of pathways I would need to affect to remove these memories is smaller by several orders of magnitude." "And you could then do what needs be done?" Alex asked, hope renewed. "I believe so, dear, but for that to happen, I will need to turn you into a young girl - one so young her brain has not yet developed sufficiently to have an adult's perfect recall." "How... how young would that be?" "Very young, I am afraid. Four or five years old. Certainly no older than six, but I promise that you won't be otherwise diminished. Your perfect memory will again develop, but without Alex's memories. As for your physical attributes, you already know what you will look like when you grow up again." He thought about eleven men and eleven families mourning their deaths, and he thought about a lifelong love lost and a little girl with his eyes, also lost. What did he have that was so wonderful that giving it up counted for more than those eleven broken families? He looked up at the two solemn faced women. "Help me to the showers, please?" "You're sure, Alex? Once we start, there can be no turning back." "Never surer, Grandmother." ~---- It felt very funny, Allie thought, being so short as she dried off after the shower. Why, she could barely reach the sink and they really needed to put in mirrors suitable for girls HER size. The part of Allie that was still Alex grinned at that and wondered if she'd have time to tell Anya and Grandmother about that deficiency. Grandma had said Alex's memories would slowly fade after the shower until all she remembered was whatever her new reality specified. "Allie?" an oddly familiar girl's voice called. "Aren't you ready YET? Mom and Aunt Anya are taking us out for pizza and we each get to choose a topping!" "Almost," she called back as she suddenly remembered the name of her big sister, "Bethanne." A girl of about ten years ran in followed by a woman Allie's mind called "Momma," and who Alex's fading memories called "Meggie!" "We can't go for pizza until you're dressed, sweetie," her Mother said indulgently. "Now, hustle up so you can give Grandma a bye- bye hug before we leave." Allie hurriedly put on her shorts and top, and slipped into her sandals. Outside the locker room, she found her mother talking with Grandma and Auntie Anya. She hurried over and launched herself at the older woman and was swept up into a fierce hug. "Thank you, Grandma," Allie said. "For everything," Alex added. The Old Woman set the child down. Allie then saw a woman, some almost forgotten memory said the woman's name was Elaine, heading toward a car in which her once-again-very-much-alive husband, Thomas waited, their children, including a very young, pink-rompered baby, in tow. *To serve and protect,* was Alex's final thought, and then all was Allie, forever more. "I thought we were going for pizza," Allie demanded impatiently as she looked up at her mother and aunt. ~---- Later, the Old Woman and Anya relaxed in their private quarters, enjoying glasses of iced mint tea. "So, Mason is now the daughter of one of his victims, and Alex is the daughter of his own wife. What a convoluted ending," Anya sighed. "Well, it did seem to be the best option, all things considered." Anya perked up. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded. "You said that this was the only way to undo what that monster had done to the families of our members." Her Grandmother grinned. "I said it was the only thing *I* could do, dear, even with your help and I meant that quite literally. In truth, there are other adepts who could have helped me handle this situation in some other manner. The Council of Wizards could have simply stripped Alexander of his untrained talent, for example." "So, why didn't you do that? Alex did not strike me as the kind of fellow who would want to learn magic anyway." "Well, one reason I rejected such a strategy was because Allie's power may someday be used to accomplish great good in the world if preserved and properly trained. Destroying such potential out of hand is a sinful waste of an important gift." "What other reason, Grandmother, because I don't think that's why you really did it." "Because I came to care deeply about Alexander, dear, and had he continued as he was, he'd never have been happy again. His happiness died with his family and there was nothing I or anyone else could have done that would have changed that condition as long as he lived. On the other hand, Allie no longer has that pain bottled up inside her, nor does she feel that guilt because in this new reality, it was Alex who was killed by that drug dealer, not his family." "I love you, Grandmother," Anya said. The Old Woman smiled. "That's what Alex told me, dear. And Allie, too." The end