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Author's Note: Simulacrum (pronounced sym-yoo-lak-rumm) is a Latin term that means something that looks like or represents something else. This story may not be re-posted without the permission of the author. SIMULACRUM By Lana B. Ritchie Tomlin walked into his office and placed the newspaper and Styrofoam cup on his desk. He took off his coat and tossed it onto the wooden coat-hanger. He settled into the black leather chair behind his desk and removed the lid from the cup. For the next half-hour he read the paper as he sipped his morning coffee. Tomlin folded the newspaper and tossed it into the garbage receptacle. He then leaned back into the chair and crossed his legs. He took a sip of the tepid coffee and thought about the events of the last few years as he relaxed. In the summer of 2001 he'd been hired by Bernie Mason to work in Mason's private investigations agency. He was a private detective and looked forward to making his mark in the field. And everything had gone exceedingly well for him in the new job for a few months. Then 9/11 arrived. Bernie's Mason's beloved fianc?e was a passenger on one of the airplanes that had crashed into the World Trade Center and he'd been devastated by her death. Mason discovered that he couldn't continue to live and work in New York. The memories of the terrorist attack were just too painful for him to stay in the city where it had occurred. So he'd relocated to Florida. After Mason departed Tomlin partnered up with Jack Lacey, another private detective Mason had employed. The two men started their own private investigations agency in the office that Mason had relinquished. Indeed Tomlin now sat behind Mason's old desk in his vacated private office. It took Tomlin and Lacey over a year but they finally turned a profit. And now they each were making decent if not huge money. Tomlin's concentration was broken by the knock on his door. "Come in." The door swung open and he saw his partner. "Morning Jack. What's up?" "Hey Ritchie. We've got someone coming in at 9:00 for an intake interview. His name's Irving Crane. Can you do it? I've got to get down to municipal court for a deposition in the Gregory case." "Sure. No problem." "Good. See you later." *** "Make yourself comfortable Mr. Crane and tell me what you'd like me to do for you." Tomlin watched as Irving Crane sat down on the upholstered chair in front of his desk. He was short and balding and he seemed nervous. "Thank you Mr. Tomlin. Two years ago I was Arthur Montague's business partner. He's the owner of Montague Pharmaceuticals. Perhaps you've heard of him?" "Can't say that I have." "Well anyway, he bought my share of the company for $500,000." "That's no small piece of change." "But I believe he cheated me." "How so Mr. Crane?" "Eight months after he bought me out the company released a drug called Lanoxital. It's very effective in the treatment of skin disorders." "Skin disorders?" "Yes. Like psoriasis, eczema, shingles, dermatitis. That sort of thing." "How do you think he cheated you?" "I believe Montague held the rights to Lanoxital at the time he bought me out. And he concealed it from me. If I'd known about it I would never have accepted his offer Mr. Tomlin. Since this drug's been released Montague's made tens of millions in profits." "So what do you want to do about it?" "I want to sue him." "I think you're in the wrong office Mr. Crane. You need an attorney. I'm a private detective." "I need proof of his deception Mr. Tomlin. That's why I'm here. I want to hire you to find the evidence to establish that he's cheated me." Tomlin considered for a moment. "My fee's $50 an hour plus expenses." "That's reasonable. I've heard you have a fine reputation. I believe my money won't go to waste." *** For the next two weeks Tomlin did some legwork on Montague Pharmaceuticals. He discovered that its principal office was in New York. And he also found out that the company regularly engaged the services of temporary office clerks. Tomlin's sister Barbara was a manager at Career Temps and he rang her up. "Does your company ever place office clerks at Montague Pharmaceuticals on Second Avenue Sis?" "Yeah Ritchie. We just sent someone over there a few days ago. Why?" "The next time the company asks for an office clerk can you let me know? I have someone I'd like you to place there." "I don't know Ritchie. I've never done anything like this before." "Please Barbara? It's real important." "Well... okay. But you owe me one big brother." *** Tomlin's wife Amy had taken on a few assignments for him over the past two years but she wasn't available at the moment. She was eight months pregnant and her doctor had advised her to keep off her feet as much as possible. Tomlin pondered. He needed a woman to work on the Crane case but he couldn't come up with a reliable prospect. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. "Come in." It was Amy's twin brother Andrew. "Hi Andrew. What's up?" "I stopped by to pick up the subpoenas Ritchie. I can serve them this morning." "Great." Tomlin reached into his drawer and he retrieved the documents and handed them to his brother-in-law. Andrew had been working for Tomlin for the last two months serving legal papers. It was one of the services that Tomlin's agency provided for local attorneys. Andrew stuck the papers into his pocket and smiled. He was glad to have the work. For three years he'd been the bass player in an up-and-coming progressive rock band but two months ago the lead singer, Clive Thomas, had tragically died from a drug overdose. The rest of the band was taken completely by surprise. They'd known that Clive had dabbled in grass and coke but hadn't known he'd graduated to smack. Since Clive was the band's songwriter as well as singer the group couldn't go on without him. They disbanded. The breakup of Andrew's band had sent him into a financial tailspin. He had no savings to speak of and a month ago, at his sister's urging, he'd moved into Ritchie and Amy's house on Staten Island. He delivered legal papers for Ritchie to make a few bucks while he looked for another band to hook up with. Ritchie studied Andrew's face. He looked just like his sister Amy. Which was amazing because Amy was such a pretty woman. And then it occurred to Ritchie. "How would you like to do a job for me Andrew?" "What job?" "You'd take a temporary assignment as an office clerk. And you'd look for some documents at the work site." "You mean like a secretary or something?" "Yeah. Exactly." "Are you serious? How could I work as a secretary? Who'd believe it?" "Well, you'd wear a disguise." "Disguise? What type of disguise?" Tomlin hesitated a moment. "Well, you'd disguise yourself as a woman." He awaited Andrew's reaction. "What? Is this a joke or something?" "Actually it's not Andrew. I'm in a pinch and I need someone I can trust to take on a temporary work assignment as an office clerk." Andrew stared at him. "You're serious. I can't believe this." "I really need you to do this for me Andrew. Please?" "But... I don't know anything about secretarial work Ritchie." "You know how to use a computer. As a matter of fact your computer skills are excellent. Most secretarial functions are done on the computer now. You can use a word processor, right?" "Well... yeah." "Then you'd be able to do office clerical work." "I don't know Ritchie. This sounds really bizarre." "Well, just do me a favor and think about it Andrew? I really need your help." "Well... okay. I'll think about it. But I'm not promising you anything." "Thanks Andrew." Andrew left his office and Tomlin reflected. He considered that his brother-in-law hadn't objected to the request on the ground that he couldn't pass as woman. The obvious reason for that was that Andrew knew such an assertion wouldn't be credible. *** Jack Lacey saw Andrew standing in the hall as soon as the elevator door opened. He stepped out of the elevator. "Hi Andrew. What are you up to?" "Uh... hi Jack. I'm... er... picking up some subpoenas. I've got to go now." He stepped into the vacated elevator. Jack watched as the elevator door closed. He thought that Andrew had acted funny. He appeared to be confused. Jack walked down the hall and thought of Andrew's sister Amy. He'd liked her from the moment Richie had introduced them to each other two years ago. He thought that Richie was a lucky man to have a wife as pretty and charming as Amy. He'd developed a secret crush on Amy and hoped he'd meet a girl just like her. Jack thought about how strange it was that Andrew looked so much like his sister. He knew they were twins but Andrew almost looked like Amy's twin sister. There were, however, no doubts about his sexual inclinations. Ritchie had told Jack that despite his feminine appearance Andrew did very well with the girls. As a member of a rock band he'd attracted a good number of groupies who found his androgynous looks desirable. In fact Jack was almost ashamed to admit that Andrew had had more success with the ladies than he did. Jack reached the office and entered it. He saw Ritchie pouring coffee near the front desk. Their receptionist Irma had abruptly quit without reason a few days ago and they'd still not found a suitable replacement. "Hey Ritchie." "Morning Jack." "You know I just saw Andrew and he looked a little out of it." "Yeah. And I know the reason why." Ritchie told Jack about the proposition he'd just pitched to Andrew. Jack smirked. "No wonder he's distracted." "I think I'll call Amy and tell her. She has a lot of influence with Andrew. I bet she can talk him into it." Jack watched Ritchie step into his office to make the call. He conjured up an image of Andrew dressed as a girl and smiled. *** Andrew served all the subpoenas by noon and forty-five minutes later he was back home in Staten Island. Amy was asleep so he headed downstairs to the basement apartment he'd occupied for the last month. Andrew booted up his computer and got onto the Internet. He browsed a few of the sites he'd bookmarked. They concerned the subject of twins. Being a twin himself Andrew was naturally interested in the subject. He believed that he wasn't just an ordinary twin. It was almost as if he were Amy's identical twin. But he knew that that was an impossibility because there was no such thing as different-sex identical twins. Andrew reflected on the biological aspects of identical twins. He knew that identical twins result when a single sperm cell fertilizes a single egg, which subsequently splits into two eggs. And since the split eggs derive from the same single fertilized egg the chromosomes in the split eggs are identical. Which means that identical twins are always the same sex. Fraternal twins, in contrast, result when two sperm cells fertilize two individual eggs. Since the eggs have their own distinct chromosomes opposite-sex twins are possible. In fact statistics show that opposite- sex twins make up more than one-third of the fraternal twin population. Andrew knew that studies have shown that same-sex and boy-girl fraternal twins develop as differently as single birth children from the time of conception. This phenomenon is in stark contrast to the development of identical twins who maintain an extremely close connection. In addition to bearing a striking resemblance to each other identical twins have a strong emotional bond to one another. Andrew realized that he was not Amy's identical twin. That was biologically impossible. Yet he looked so much like her and felt so connected to her. Indeed for as long as Andrew could remember Amy had been the most important person in his life. He wanted to spend time with her and he wanted her opinions on issues that mattered to him. He'd even become a little jealous when she married Ritchie. Andrew's feelings for Amy puzzled him. In the context of being a twin he realized that he was a fraternal twin with the emotions of an identical twin. He was bewildered. And then Andrew found a website which made reference to a third category of twins. A few geneticists theorized that a hybrid type existed called polar body twins. They advanced the proposition that polar body twins occur when an unfertilized egg splits into two parts and each part is then fertilized by a different sperm cell. The twins would then share one-half of their gene set from their mother. And because it's the father's DNA that determines gender the twins can be either same-sex or male-female. Andrew was fascinated by the concept of polar body twins. And just last week he was online and stumbled across an article that heightened his fascination. The piece was written by Dr. Ivan Venetsky for the Russian Journal of Medicine. It was titled "The Phenomenon of Genetic Influence and Authority in the Maturation and Development of Prenatal Polar Body Twins." Dr. Venetsky asserted that in an extremely small percentage of polar body twins, believed to be less than one percent, one of the fertilized eggs exerts a dominating influence over the other fertilized egg as they mature and develop within the womb. As a result the development of distinct emotional and physical characteristics in the subordinate fetus is suppressed. The doctor went on to conclude that the phenomenon produces infants who are remarkably similar to identical twins even though the eggs are fertilized by two separate sperm cells. Dr. Venetsky extended his theory further and argued, contrary to popular belief, that it is possible to have male-female twins who are, for all intents and purposes, identical. This phenomenon would occur in the case of different-sex polar body twins where the dominant fetus exerts genetic influence over the subordinate fetus as both fetuses develop and mature in the womb. Dr. Venetsky cited two known Russian case studies to support his theory. He noted that in each case the female polar body twin had been the dominant fetus. And in each case the male twin developed the effeminate characteristics of his female sibling. With the exception of having male genitalia the male twin was, in essence, a mirror image of his sister. Andrew considered all the new information he'd absorbed and wondered whether he and Amy were polar body twins. And if they were whether he'd been "genetically influenced" by Amy as they'd developed and matured in the womb. It certainly seemed that way. He looked like Amy and felt emotionally bonded to her. And then Andrew thought that if it were, indeed, true then Amy was the dominant twin. Which meant that he was the subordinate twin. He felt his face redden. Andrew's embarrassment subsided. He knew that genetic scientists were anything but certain on the entire notion of twins. For every theory there was a counter-theory. There was much that was not known. But on the other hand it was possible. Andrew gave the matter some more thought. He and Amy were both 5'5'' tall. And they both weighed about 125 pounds. Even their voices sounded alike. He conceded that if they were polar body twins and one fetus had exerted dominance in the womb then the dominant fetus had clearly been Amy. After all Amy didn't look like a man. To the contrary she looked quite feminine. And he looked like her. He logged off his computer and lay down on the bed. His thoughts were troubled and tired him. He was asleep in five minutes. *** The soft knock on the door awoke him and he blinked his eyes open. "Come in." The bedroom door opened and Andrew saw his very pregnant sister. "Hi Sis." "Hi Andrew. I see you've been catching a little sleep like me. Have a rough day?" "Nah. I delivered some subpoenas for Ritchie and then I came right back here. I must have spent too much time on the computer. Strained my eyes I guess and made me tired." "Yeah, Ritchie told me he saw you today." Andrew saw that look in Amy's eyes. The one where she was withholding something. He thought he knew what it was. "And what else did Ritchie say?" "Well, he told me that he asked you to do a job for him." "And did he also tell you what the job was?" "Yeah. He wants you to be an office clerk. And before you express your outrage, Andrew, I also know that he wants you to disguise yourself as a woman." Andrew felt as if Amy had just pulled the rug out from under him. He'd been ready to act insulted and maligned. His sister just knew him all too well. "And you don't see anything wrong with that Amy?" "It's just a job Andrew. And Ritchie said that it won't last longer than a few weeks at most. He really needs your help. He needs someone he can trust and he trusts you." "Yeah. Just my luck." "Come on Andrew. I'll help you with it. Will you do it? For me?" He looked into her pleading eyes. He'd never been able to deny a request from Amy before and he couldn't start now. "Yeah. Okay." *** Let's get started Andrew. You've got to look the part today. Did you shave your legs?" Andrew glared at his sister. "Yeah." "Good." Amy wasn't too concerned about that because she knew that her brother didn't have much bodily hair. He didn't seem to have any beard at all and what hair Amy had observed on his arms and legs had been sparse and soft like hers. Andrew shook his head and reflected. Two months had passed since he'd agreed to take on the assignment and Ritchie finally got a call from his sister Barbara two days ago. She'd told him that Montague Pharmaceuticals had just requested a temporary office clerk to start this Monday. Andrew's nightmare had commenced. He continued to glare. Amy sweetly smiled at her brother and watched as his glare melted away. It was almost uncanny how she could change his emotions without saying a word. She continued to smile at him and thought about the last two days. Over the weekend Amy had trained Andrew how to walk, act and talk like a woman. And she'd styled his long blond hair to look as attractive as her own. He'd always worn his hair in a ponytail but now it gently bounced onto and beyond his shoulders. Amy stepped up to Andrew and grasped his hands. She didn't see any flaws in his long red nails. When he'd agreed to the assignment two months ago Amy had instructed him to let his nails grow and last night she'd given him a full manicure. "Okay Andrew. Let's get started." For the next hour-and-a-half Amy helped Andrew prepare for his first day on the new job. He slipped on the white cotton panties and Amy helped him with the padded bra and nude pantyhose. She then applied his makeup and instructed him to pay close attention so that he could make any necessary repairs. Amy grinned as she retrieved the dress and shoes she'd selected for her brother. She was having fun dressing him up. The thought of sharing her wardrobe with Andrew appealed to her. "Alright Andrew, ready for the finishing touches?" She saw that he rolled his eyes. She smiled as she helped him get into the red floral print silk dress and 3" black leather pumps. Andrew gazed at his full-body reflection in the wall mirror and nearly gasped. He looked just like a real girl. And a pretty one at that. He realized he could have been a carbon copy of his sister. Ritchie poked his head into the room. "Ready Andrew?" He watched as Andrew turned around and faced him. Now it was Ritchie who nearly gasped. He couldn't believe it. Andrew looked as pretty as Amy. Ritchie was relieved. He clearly wouldn't have to worry about whether Andrew would pass as a woman. *** Ritchie dropped his brother-in-law off in front of the tall building on Second Avenue. "Now remember Andrew, we're looking for any computer records, files or documents relating to a drug called Lanoxital. It's for treatment of skin diseases. Okay?" "Yeah, yeah. You've told me a hundred times." Andrew exited the car and walked away. Ritchie heard the clacking sounds Andrew's high-heels made on the sidewalk as he walked toward the building. He pondered. He hoped the gambit would succeed. Ritchie checked the mirror and pulled the car into the street. He turned his thoughts to the insurance fraud case he'd work on today as he drove off to work. *** Andrew scanned the directory in the lobby and found the information he needed. He then took the elevator up to the 28th floor and walked down the long hall. He stopped at Room 2835 and gazed at the door. He read "Montague Pharmaceuticals, Inc." on the nameplate and entered the office. Andrew walked to the front desk and looked down at the redhead sitting behind it. "Hi. I'm from Career Temps." He reached into his purse and retrieved the folder. He handed it to the redhead. "Hello. I'm Betty Anderson. You can call me Betty. I'm the supervising secretary here." "Nice to meet you Betty." "Yeah. Same here." She scanned the file and looked up at Andrew. "I see your name is Andrea Kramer. And you've got good clerical experience. Terrific. Let's get you started." Betty showed Andrew to a desk in the bullpen area and for the next half-hour she showed him his tasks, which consisted of typing correspondence and drug patent applications on the computer's word processor. *** Saturday finally arrived and Andrew was relieved. He got the opportunity to sleep late. More importantly he wouldn't have to slip into a dress and heels for a few days. On the down side he knew he'd have to return to the job on Monday. He'd had no success at all in tracking down any information on Lanoxital. He'd accessed every available program on his computer and found nothing. If there was any information on Lanoxital in the office it was stored somewhere else. *** Monday had arrived all too soon and Andrew found himself back at Montague Pharmaceuticals staring at Microsoft Word on his computer. He was bored already. "I don't know how much more of this I can take." Andrew looked around the room. He eyed several of the girls. He noticed that five of them had already gotten down to work. One was freshening her lipstick and another was filing her nails. Like Andrew they were temporary office clerks. They seemed like nice girls. They'd asked him to lunch a few times last week but he'd politely declined. He'd been afraid they'd see through his disguise. Over the weekend Ritchie had urged him to search the office for physical documents and files that might contain the information he sought. But Andrew didn't see any file cabinets. He'd noticed last week that Arthur Montague had a private office near the front desk but the door was locked. Andrew couldn't figure out a way to get into it. He'd never even seen Betty enter that office. He was starting to think the assignment would end in failure. Andrew gazed at the in-basket and saw all of his assigned work. He picked up some of the papers and looked at them. "Oh God. More patent applications." He reluctantly got to work. Midway through the morning he chipped his thumbnail on the keyboard. He looked at the small defect. It bothered him. He retrieved the emery board from his purse and repaired the flaw. He was glad Amy had kept his purse well-stocked with all the implements and cosmetics he'd need. Andrew took a stroll at lunchtime. He'd become accustomed to walking in high-heels and hardly even thought about it. But it was a little windy so he exercised care as he traversed the sidewalk. And he placed his hands on his thighs to prevent his dress from flying up on him. He was very self-conscious about that. He'd had a large muffin for breakfast and wasn't hungry. So he just walked and enjoyed the early autumn day. He also enjoyed the erotic sensations the nylons produced as his legs softly brushed against one another. Andrew didn't want to admit it but it was one of the reasons he'd decided to take a walk. He made his way back to the building. As soon as he entered the office Betty approached him. "I'm so glad you're back Andrea. I just got a call from the school. My eight-year-old daughter Mary is sick. She threw up in class. I've got to go get her. Can you watch the front desk?" Andrew saw that Betty was close to crying. "Sure Betty. No problem." "Thanks honey. I'll be back as soon as I can." *** Andrew noticed that Betty hadn't logged off her computer. He immediately accessed her hard drive and saw the directory named "Drugs." He opened it and viewed all the subdirectories that corresponded to the different body systems. He found "Skin" and opened it. And then he saw the file named "Lanoxital." Andrew opened the Lanoxital file and printed it out. His heart raced as he stood by the printer. "Come on. Come on." The printer finally stopped and he collected the pages from the tray. He folded the papers and stuffed them into his purse. He returned to Betty's desk and stared at the monitor. He grasped the mouse and returned the computer to its desktop. His accelerated heartbeat slowed. "Whew." *** Andrew toyed around with the idea of leaving. But he didn't want to do anything to arouse suspicion. He decided to stay for the day. Betty returned two hours later. "Thanks so much Andrea. Mary's fine. The doctor says it's only a mild touch of the flu." Andrew returned to his desk. He looked at the wall clock. "Only an hour-and-a-half to go. Thank God." *** Fifteen minutes before quitting time Andrew saw a tall man enter the office. He heard Betty say, "Why Mr. Montague, how nice it is to see you. When did you get into town?" "I just rolled in from the airport Betty. I need to pick up some papers." Montague unlocked the door to his private office and entered it. Ten minutes later he came back out. He gazed into the bullpen area and watched as the girls got ready to leave for the day. He immediately noticed the pretty blonde. He leaned down toward Betty. "Say, who's that blond beauty over there?" "Her? That's Andrea Kramer." Montague watched the girls as they filed by him. As soon as the blonde approached he stepped into the aisle and halted her progress. "Hi. I'm Arthur Montague. I own this operation." Andrew looked up at Montague. "Uh... hello." "What's your name?" "I'm... Andrea Kramer." "I'd like to show you something in my office Andrea. Would you come with me?" "I... uh... I've really got to get going Mr. Montague." "This won't take long Andrea. Just a few minutes. I promise." "Well... okay I guess." Andrew got mad at himself for agreeing. They entered the large office and Montague closed the door. Andrew saw all the model airplanes on the desk, credenza and bookcase. A few even hung from ceiling wires. And the walls were dotted with pictures of airplanes from many different eras. Montague was obviously an aeronautics enthusiast. Montague walked to the wet bar and poured himself a scotch. "What would you like to drink Andrea?" "Nothing thanks." "Aw come on. Just one drink. I hate to drink alone." Andrew considered. He didn't have to drive. He'd take the ferry home tonight. "Well... okay. A little bourbon and water might be nice." Montague prepared the blonde's drink. He waited for her to look at a wall picture and he emptied the contents of the small vial into the glass. He smiled as the colorless and odorless date rape drug Rohypnol blended into the bourbon and water. Andrew accepted the drink and took a sip. "This is quite a collection of models and pictures you've got here Mr. Montague. You must really like airplanes." He took another sip of the drink. "Call me Arthur. Yeah, airplanes are my passion. I got my pilot's license last year and I bought a Cessna. I really love to fly it. Would you like to see it?" Andrew felt a little faint. He took another sip of bourbon to clear his head. "Well I don't know. Maybe I guess." "Why don't we sit on the couch and relax?" "Okay." Andrew walked to the couch. He felt a little wobbly. He wondered why. He concluded it was from drinking on an empty stomach. They sat down on opposite ends of the brown leather couch and sipped at their drinks. Andrew felt a bit warm. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Montague looked at the blonde and sized her up. She was a knockout. He couldn't wait to get her back to his apartment. He arose and he walked to the door and opened it. "You can go home now Betty. I'll lock up." "Okay Mr. Montague. Good night." Andrew watched as Montague returned to the couch and sat down next to him. It looked like he was moving in slow motion. Montague grasped the blonde's hands and smiled. "Say, I've got a great idea Andrea. Let's go to my place on Park Avenue." Andrew felt a little disoriented. And he didn't want to be disagreeable. "Okay Arthur." Montague reached into his pocket and came away with his cell phone. He summoned his driver. *** Andrew sat on the comfortable velvet couch in Montague's Park Avenue apartment and sipped at the bourbon and water he'd just been handed. Montague sat next to him and stroked his hair. He had a broad grin on his face. "You sure are a pretty girl Andrea." "Thank you Arthur." Montague slipped the drink out of her hand and placed it on the coffee table. "Come with me Andrea." Montague smiled as he watched the blonde follow him into the bedroom. He disrobed. "Take off your clothes too Andrea." Montague slid under the covers of the king-sized bed and watched as the blonde kicked off her heels and removed her dress. He smiled as he saw her slip the pantyhose off. And then she removed her bra and panties. Montague's smile disappeared. His expression changed into one of confusion and then disgust. "Holy shit! You're a fucking man! I don't fucking believe it!" Montague glared at the pretty man's genitals. He saw that he was nicely endowed. He realized that the man was larger than he was which enraged and humiliated him at once. Montague jumped out of the bed and quickly dressed. He glared at the blonde. "Get into the fucking bed and stay there!" Andrew slipped into the bed and Montague marched into the living room. He saw the purse on the coffee table and grabbed it. He opened it and immediately saw the folded papers. He retrieved them and saw what they were. "Motherfucker!" He searched the purse for identification documents but didn't find any. Montague returned to the bedroom and looked down at the man lying in his bed. "Who the fuck are you?" Andrew was afraid. He trembled. Montague saw the fear on his face. He realized he'd been shouting at him. He also realized he'd have to calm down and lower his voice if he was to get any answers. "Okay, I'm sorry I yelled. Please tell me your real name." Montague saw the fear slowly dissipate from his face. "I'm... Andrew Kramer." "Good. Okay Andrew, who hired you to get the documents on Lanoxital? Was it my former business partner Irving Crane?" "I don't know his name but he was the man you bought out." "That little fucking weasel will pay for this!" Montague looked into the blond man's face. He couldn't get over how pretty he was. He thought it was a shame he wasn't female. And then an idea occurred to him and he grinned. "So you want to be a girl Andrew? I think we may be able to arrange that. Get up and put your clothes back on." While Andrew dressed Montague retrieved his cell phone and summoned his driver. *** Arthur Montague's pharmaceutical ventures had made him a wealthy man. His company produced a plethora of alleged wonder drugs, most of which resulted in modest profits. But Lanoxital truly worked. It was universally hailed as an effective medication for the treatment of intractable skin disorders. It was in great demand. Lanoxital made Montague very rich. He now had more money than he knew what to do with. So on the advice of his accountants he began to acquire real estate. Two years ago he purchased a lovely chateau in Switzerland on the outskirts of Zurich. And last year he bought a 50-acre ranch in Derby, Colorado about 35 miles north of Denver. Montague had always liked western movies. And now he had his own ranch where he wear cowboy clothes and ride a horse. He visited the ranch at least once a month. It had become his favorite retreat. And to make matters even better construction of a small runway on the spread had just been completed. Montague turned to his right and glanced at Andrew. He saw that the pretty boy stared straight ahead with a dull expression. A broad grin formed on Montague's face as he piloted the Cessna toward the Derby ranch. *** "Thanks for fitting me into your busy schedule Will." Montague lifted the fork to his mouth and tasted the veal. It was very good. "I've always got time for you Arthur. It's nice to see you again. How's your health?" "It's good. Thanks to you guys." Montague thought back to the incident a year ago right after he'd bought the ranch. He'd been horseback riding on the spread when he had the chest pains. He'd gone to Denver General Hospital where an angiography disclosed multi-vessel coronary disease. A day later he'd gone under the knife and had coronary artery bypass surgery. Dr. Will Fossum, with whom he now shared lunch, was Head of the Cardiology Department at Denver General and he and his surgical team had performed Montague's surgery. "How's everything with you Will?" "Can't complain. Things are good. By the way, thanks for your generous endowment Arthur. It'll go a long way in setting up the new pediatric cardiology wing." "It was my pleasure Will." Montague was truly grateful to Dr. Fossum. He'd just contributed $500,000 to the doctor's favorite cause. The tax write-off wouldn't hurt either. "You have something on your mind Arthur?" "Well actually I do. It's a rather delicate problem Will." "Is there anything I can do to help?" Dr. Fossum liked Arthur. And he liked his dollars even more. "I hope so. You see, I've got this nephew who's a transsexual. He desperately wants to have sexual reassignment surgery. He's just made a suicide attempt and we're keeping him sedated. I'd like to help him get what he wants." "Do you have the proper paperwork?" "Paperwork?" "A psychologist's report and documentation that he's been living as a woman for a year." "No." "Hmm." "This would mean a great deal to me Will. I'd be very appreciative." Dr. Fossum saw the meaning in his statement. He thought about his cherished pediatric wing. "We don't do that surgery at Denver General. But our Psychological Department provides counseling for gender dysphoria. When reassignment surgery is appropriate we refer the patient to a facility in Colorado Springs. But we initiate all the supporting paperwork. Can you have your nephew come in for counseling?" "There's no time for that Will. I'm afraid he'll make another attempt. Isn't there any way he could have the surgery now?" "Hmm. This isn't exactly kosher but I guess I can talk to George Gardner. He's our Head of Psychology. He owes me a big favor. I can call it in and get the paperwork generated I suppose." "Thanks so much Will. I owe you." "I know you'll express your appreciation Arthur." "You can count on it." Dr. Fossum reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved his pen and small leather book. "What's your nephew's name Arthur?" *** Jack Lacey walked into the office and approached the front desk. He looked at the redhead on the telephone. He glanced at the nameplate on her desk. He patiently waited and she finally finished the call. "Hello Ms. Anderson. My name's Jack Lacey. I'm a private detective." He handed her his business card. She looked at the card. "What can I do for you Mr. Lacey?" "A friend of mine disappeared a week ago. She was working here at the time. Her name's Andrea Kramer. Can you tell me anything that might help me find her?" Betty remembered Andrea. She recalled that Andrea had been with Mr. Montague the last time she'd seen her. But Betty knew better than to tell that to this man. "I do remember Andrea Mr. Lacey. She just left one night and never came back. I was curious about that." "Did you call Career Temps when she didn't return to work?" "Well... uh... no." "Why not?" "Well... I... uh... thought we could handle our workload with the girls we already had." "Is there anything else you can tell me that might be helpful?" "I'm sorry Mr. Lacey. That's all I know." "Thanks. Would you call me if you hear anything?" "Certainly." Jack walked to the elevator and pressed the down button. He reflected as he waited. He'd filed a missing person's report with the police a few days ago but had heard nothing from the cops. And this interview hadn't turned up anything either. But he got the impression that the woman was withholding something from him. She'd seemed a little nervous. The elevator door opened and Jack stepped in. He pondered his next move. *** Irving Crane's restful sleep was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. He reached for the lamp and turned on the light. He then retrieved his eyeglasses from the night-table and put them on. Crane got out of the bed and took two steps toward the closet to retrieve his robe. And then the door to his bedroom swung open. He set his gaze on a tall man dressed in black. He wore a mask. And he had a gun in his hand. "Who... are you? What... what do you want?" The man pointed the gun at his chest. "I have a message for you." Crane felt himself tremble. "Message?" "Yeah. Mr. Montague says you're a weasel. You should have been satisfied with the half mil." "Tell... tell him I'll drop the whole..." Crane never finished his sentence. The masked man unloaded his revolver into him and his naked body crumbled to the floor. *** "Were you able to put something together for me Ralph?" Montague eagerly awaited a response. Ralph DeSilva was his top chemist and Montague was hopeful he'd get what he needed. "Yes sir Mr. Montague. I think I came up with something that'll do what you described." DeSilva held up a small vial and smiled. "I call it Jericho. It's a compound composed of Sodium Pentothal, Rohypnol, and Sodium Amytal. Plus a few other chemicals I threw in for good measure. It'll make the subject highly responsive to just about any suggestion. It'll completely break down his resistance. The only adverse side- effects are some minor disorientation and memory loss. But then again that might not be a bad thing depending upon what you want to do with the stuff." Montague nodded his head in approval. "Nice work Ralph." "I haven't even told you the best part yet Mr. Montague. Jericho doesn't have to be injected or ingested to work its magic. It's enough if the subject simply tastes it." "Tastes it?" "Yeah. Like for example if he gargles with it or rinses his mouth with it after brushing his teeth. Even if the subject expectorates the stuff it still gets absorbed into his system through the tongue. You can put it into a localized water filtering system and the subject will never know what hit him. You can keep him in a perpetual drug-induced state." Montague broadly smiled. "You're a genius Ralph. You'll find a nice little bonus in your next paycheck." "Thanks Mr. Montague." *** Andrew was very drowsy. He tried to remember where he was. And then he recalled that he was in a hospital. But he couldn't remember why. He struggled with his thoughts and then it came to him. He was going to have sexual reassignment surgery. His friend Arthur had recommended it and Andrew had agreed. He tried to remember why he'd consented but couldn't. All he knew was that he'd been unable to resist. Arthur felt he should have the surgery and had strongly urged him on. Under those circumstances Andrew had no choice but to comply. Andrew suddenly realized that he was on a gurney. He could feel it roll. He shut his eyes. He was nearly asleep. He thought about what he'd consented to. His last thought was that it wouldn't be long before Amy had a twin sister. A month later... Andrew rested in the spacious upstairs bedroom in his friend's ranch. His convalescence from the surgery was nearly complete. The soreness between his legs was just about gone. He pulled the bed sheet away and gazed down at his body. He saw his modest breasts. He softly shook his body and watched in fascination as they gently bounced. They felt so strange. Andrew sat up and looked between his legs. He intently peered at his new genitalia. He had a vagina and vulva down there now and they looked so real. He tried to remember how they got there and then he recalled the surgery he'd had. The surgery he'd consented to. He tried to recall why he'd agreed to it. He heard advancing footsteps and he quickly lay down on the bed and covered himself with the bed sheet. A few seconds later he saw Arthur standing in the doorway. "Uh... hello Arthur." "Hi Andrea. How are you feeling today?" "Pretty good I guess. I think I'm almost back to normal." Andrew thought that his usage of the word "normal" may not have been appropriate. Montague walked to the bed and sat on its edge. He looked at her and smiled. "You're so pretty Andrea." "Why do you call me Andrea? My name's Andrew." "Not anymore. You're a woman now and Andrew's a man's name. Your life as a man is behind you Andrea. Do you understand me?" Andrea had listened closely and softly nodded her head. "Yes." Montague was satisfied he'd convinced him he was a woman. "Have you dilated yourself today?" "Not yet." "I have an idea. Why don't I dilate you?" "You?" "Yeah. Don't you remember what Dr. Larkin said? Sex is an effective means of dilation. He said it was even better than using the dilator." Andrea blushed and looked down. "But I'm not sure I'm ready for..." "Sure you are sweetheart. It's a good idea. I think we should really do this Andrea. I feel strongly about it. What do you say?" Montague started to undress. "Well... okay I guess..." Montague lowered his briefs and slipped under the sheets. He inched toward her. He took a breast in each hand and stroked them. Andrea let out a soft sigh. The breast massage felt quite nice. She felt a pleasant tingling sensation between her legs. She sensed dampness there too. Never a big adherent of foreplay Montague mounted and entered her. He thrust back and forth. His breathing accelerated. Andrea loudly gasped as Arthur penetrated her. She felt filled to capacity. His movements created a pleasant burning sensation that intensified and grew. She quivered under his weight. Montague shot his load and fell off of her. He faced her and saw the tear on her cheek. "What the hell are you crying for? We just killed two birds with one stone honey." *** Jack Lacey sat back on the chair behind his desk and read the newspaper while he sipped at his morning coffee. He saw the small squib: "Last night retired businessman Irving Crane was found shot to death in his Rego Park home. Police believe a sole intruder was responsible for the killing. The home was found ransacked. Investigators suspect that Crane interrupted the intruder during an attempted robbery. The police ask that anyone with information about this crime contact them." "Holy shit!" Jack bolted into Ritchie's office and showed him the story. He patiently waited as his partner read. Ritchie shook his head and looked up at Jack. "This doesn't bode well for Andrew. It's starting to look like Montague uncovered the plan and eliminated the players." Jack nodded. *** Amy washed Benjamin and put a fresh diaper on him. She placed him in the crib and watched as he fell asleep. She'd given birth to a healthy seven-pound boy a month ago and proudly beamed at her new son. Amy walked downstairs and found her husband in the living room. He held a newspaper. "What are you up to Ritchie?" "Sit down Amy. I want to show you something." He gave her the newspaper. She sat on the recliner and read the story that Ritchie had pointed out. She looked up at him curiously. "I don't understand. What does this mean?" "Irving Crane was the client whose case Andrew worked on. Crane was trying to dig up dirt on Arthur Montague, his former business partner. Now Crane's dead." "What are you saying Ritchie?" "It's possible Montague discovered Crane's intentions and eliminated him. And it's also possible Montague had a hand in Andrew's disappearance." "Are you saying that Andrew's dead too Ritchie?" "I'm just trying to prepare you for that possibility Amy." She looked disturbed. "I want you to listen to me Ritchie. Andrew's not dead. He's out there. I know he is. Please find him." "How can you know that Amy? He's been gone for two months now. In most cases where someone disappears for that length of time they're either never found or they turn up dead." "He's alive Godammit! I can still feel him!" She paused for a moment and collected herself. "Listen Ritchie, if he'd died then I would have felt a small piece of me die too. But I can still feel him inside me. He wants to see me. He needs to see me. Keep looking Ritchie. Don't give up. Please?" Tears descended her cheeks. Ritchie was touched by the force of her convictions. He knew that Amy and Andrew shared a strong emotional bond. She'd convinced him that Andrew was probably still alive. "We'll keep looking Amy. If he's out there we'll find him. I promise." *** Jack Lacey stepped out of the elevator and headed for another chat with Betty Anderson. He believed she was withholding information. He had no evidence to substantiate his belief but she'd acted uncomfortable during their last chat. He thought another discussion with her was worth the effort. Besides there were no other leads to follow. As he walked down the hallway Jack thought about his plan to pry information from Anderson. Put simply he'd bluff. He opened the door and walked into the office. He saw her working on her computer. He stepped over to her desk and cleared his throat. Betty Anderson looked up at him. "Can I help you?" "Do you remember me Ms. Anderson?" She studied his face. "Why yes. You're that private detective." "That's right. I'm Jack Lacey. I'm investigating the Andrea Kramer disappearance." "But I've already told you everything I know Mr. Lacey." "I don't think you have Ms. Anderson." "What... do you mean?" "I've checked with the doorman at Arthur Montague's Park Avenue apartment. He told me that Montague was in town the day Andrea Kramer disappeared." Jack actually had talked to the doorman who wouldn't give him the time of day. "So?" "You didn't mention that the last time we talked." "I don't believe you asked me Mr. Lacey." "Montague came to the office on the day Andrea disappeared, didn't he Ms. Anderson?" He could see she was becoming anxious. "Well... no. He did not." "That's not true. In fact Montague talked to Andrea, didn't he Ms. Anderson?" "I don't know..." "I've had enough of this. I'm turning you over to the police." "The police?" Betty was a single mother and she wondered who'd take care of her daughter if she were detained by the police. Her eyes moistened. "That's right. This has turned into a possible murder investigation and you're withholding vital evidence." He saw that she was now crying. He sat on the edge of the desk. "Listen Ms. Anderson, I don't want to get you into any trouble. Tell me what you know and I'll protect your confidentiality. Montague will never find out you talked to me." "Are you sure?" "I promise." She hesitated a moment and caught her breath. "Okay. Mr. Montague did come to the office that day. He'd just flown into New York." "Do you know what airline he took?" "He flies his own plane Mr. Lacey. A Cessna Stationair." "What airport does he use?" "Republic Airfield out on Long Island." "Okay Ms. Anderson. Montague came to the office. And he talked to Andrea. Didn't he?" "Yes. He thought she was pretty. He took her into his office over there and closed the door." She pointed at Montague's private office. "How long were they in there?" "I don't know. He asked me to leave a few minutes later." "Where did he take her Ms. Anderson?" "I don't know. Like I said he asked me to leave. I've told you everything I know Mr. Lacey." She looked sincere. He believed her. "Tell me something Ms. Anderson. Where does Montague fly this plane of his?" "All over the country. He has offices and laboratories in several states. And he goes to his ranch in Colorado too." "His ranch in Colorado?" "Yes. He bought a ranch outside of Denver. He goes there quite frequently." "Exactly where is this ranch?" "It's in one of Denver's suburbs. I'm not sure which one." Lacey looked at Montague's private office. The door was open. He turned to Anderson. "I'm going to have a look around his office." "I'm not sure that's..." "Don't worry about a thing Ms. Anderson. Everything will be fine. This will be our little secret." He winked at her. Lacey searched Montague's office for twenty minutes and found nothing. But he wasn't disappointed. He'd pried a truckload of valuable information from Betty Anderson. *** Andrea awoke. She realized she wasn't alone in her bed. She looked up into the face of Arthur Montague sleeping next to her. She remembered they'd had sex several times last night. She wondered why she'd slept with this man. She couldn't figure it out. She pressed herself to recollect. A few memories slowly floated to the surface of her mind. She recalled that Montague had told her to take off her clothes and get into the bed. And then he'd instructed her to make love to him. And she'd complied. Andrea wondered why she obeyed every command this man gave her. She couldn't come up with an answer. All she knew was that she'd been unable to resist his control over her. She felt Montague stir. He opened his eyes and looked into her face. He smiled. "Good morning Andrea." "Good morning... Arthur." He leaned over and softly kissed her on the lips. He'd become quite smitten with her. "You're so pretty Andrea." She remained silent. "I want you to express gratitude when I compliment you. Do you understand me?" "Yes. Thank you Arthur." "Good. Now kiss me." She kissed him on the lips. The kiss turned passionate as their tongues met. Montague reluctantly broke the kiss. He looked into her eyes. "I wish I could stay Andrea but unfortunately I've got to fly to Chicago today for an important business meeting. I'll be back in a few days." "You're leaving me here alone?" "Don't worry. You'll be alright. I've told the hired hands to stay away from you." "But what'll I do while you're gone?" "I don't know. Why don't you do some housework? Clean the place up a little. That should keep you busy for awhile." "Okay." "Good. I'm going to take a shower." Montague left the bed and stepped into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him. Andrea remained in bed and thought about being alone for the next few days. She became anxious. She wanted to talk to her sister Amy. She desperately missed her. She saw Arthur return to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around himself. "I want to see my sister Amy Arthur." "I told you to forget about your sister." "No. I want to see her." Arthur shook his head. He'd been unable to disabuse her of her desire to see her sister. It had been the only thing she'd resisted. He made a mental note to see Ralph DeSilva about the problem. Maybe he could come up with a stronger drug. "Okay. I'll think about it. In the meantime get dressed and start cleaning this place up." Andrea smiled. She'd gotten a concession. *** Arthur returned to his bedroom downstairs to get dressed and Andrea stepped into the shower. She enjoyed the pleasant sensation of the warm spray on her breasts. She stepped out of the shower and toweled herself dry. She then brushed her teeth. She rinsed the toothpaste from her mouth and smiled. She looked at her even white teeth in the mirror. She was proud of her beautiful smile and made sure to brush her teeth in the morning and at night and after every meal. Arthur had requested that she keep herself properly made-up and attired and she'd agreed to it. He'd told her to spare no effort to make herself look pretty. She said she'd do her best to satisfy his wishes. Andrea slipped into a matching set of pink cotton panties and bra and rolled a new pair of nude pantyhose up her legs and over her waist. She then spent the next half-hour applying her makeup and doing her nails. She gazed at her long pink nails as the polish dried. She thought that her hands looked very attractive. She heard the engine's roar from outside and walked to the window. She watched as the Cessna ascended into the air from the runway a quarter of a mile away. It vanished into the clouds. Andrea turned away from the window and walked to the closet. She scanned its contents. She saw more than thirty dresses dangling on hangers. Arthur had stocked her bedroom with all the clothes she'd need. She selected the pink cotton dress. She slipped it over her head and pulled it down onto herself. She hoisted the rear zipper and felt the dress cling to her body. She then retrieved the 3" pink leather pumps from the closet floor. She stepped into the shoes and immediately felt herself rise in height. Andrea walked back to the vanity and sat down. She brushed her long blond hair. She studied her reflection in the mirror and realized that she looked very pretty. She walked to the wall mirror and stared at herself. She was satisfied that she'd complied with Arthur's request to make herself look like an attractive girl. Gazing at her reflection once again reminded her of Amy. She yearned to see her sister. She missed her so much. She'd never been away from Amy this long. She exclaimed, "I want to see Amy!" and forcefully stamped her foot on the floor. She would not take no for an answer. *** "I hit pay dirt with Betty Anderson Ritchie." "Yeah? What did she say?" "She told me Arthur Montague flew into New York and came to the office on the day Andrew disappeared. He even talked to Andrew. When Anderson left work Montague and Andrew were together in Montague's private office." "Holy shit!" "Wait. There's more. I checked his flight plan at Republic Airfield and discovered that he departed for Derby, Colorado that very night." "Where the hell is Republic Airfield? For that matter where's Derby, Colorado? "Republic Airfield's a small airport out on Long Island. Montague flies his own Cessna and that's the airport he uses. And Derby, Colorado is a suburb of Denver. Montague has a ranch there." "Great work Jack." "Thanks. I'll tell you what. If Andrew's still alive then I bet Montague's got him holed up at that ranch." "I agree Jack. I'm going out there to check it out." "I'd like to go Ritchie." "He's my brother-in law Jack." "I know. But I did the legwork. I have a feel for the case. I'd like to finish the job. Besides, you've got a new son on your hands. Your wife and son need you here." Ritchie considered and realized Jack was right. He was best suited for this job. "Okay. But if you find him I want him brought back in one piece." "I give you my word." *** Andrea finished all the housework on the second day after Arthur departed. She cleaned, scrubbed, mopped, dusted and vacuumed the 15- room ranch. She was tired and slept for ten hours that night. She awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. She made herself up and slipped into a comfortable yellow sundress and matching 3" leather pumps. She had her morning coffee and wondered what she'd do for the rest of the day. For lack of anything else to do Andrea left the house and wandered the grounds. She saw a structure about a hundred yards away and walked toward it. As she approached the building she realized it was the stables. She'd always liked horses and fondly recalled that she'd enjoyed horseback riding in summer camp when she was a teenager. "Maybe I'll go horseback riding," she considered. Andrea smiled and entered the stables. *** Jack Lacey parked the rental car at the foot of the small hill. He exited the vehicle and ascended the hill with just a little difficulty. He reached the summit and knelt down. He held the high-powered binoculars to his eyes and watched the blonde enter the stables from three hundred yards away. He wondered who she was. "Only one way to find out." He stood up and walked down the hill. *** Andrea saw the short sweaty man bailing hay as soon as she entered the building. "Uh... hello. I'm Andrea." The man looked at the blonde and was awestruck by her beauty. He immediately realized that this was the woman that all the hired help had been told to leave alone. "Buenos Dias. I am Manuel." "I just want to look at the horses Manuel. Is that alright?" "Sure Senorita. No problem." Andrea stepped up to a stall and gazed at the handsome chestnut stallion. She reached over the wooden railing and petted his brow. The horse softly whinnied in appreciation. Manuel watched as the gorgeous blonde rubbed the horse. He fantasized that she was rubbing his penis. He got hard. Andrea turned toward Manuel. "Do you have any sugar cubes or carrots I could feed him?" Manuel had never nailed a blond gringa before. He thought that this was his big chance. No one was around. He'd already decided to quit this job soon. He'd simply revise his plans a little. He'd do this blonde and immediately leave before Senor Montague returned. He smiled at her. "Si Senorita." Manuel slowly approached her. She'd turned back around and was petting the horse again. He reached her and grabbed her shoulders from behind. He threw her to the ground and forcefully tore at her dress. The stallion got up on its hind legs and snarled. He kicked at the stall door. Andrea screamed for help. *** Jack was about fifty feet from the stables when he heard the screams. He darted toward the building. Ten seconds later Jack reached the stables and immediately saw the man on top of the blonde. He saw that the man was tearing her clothes off and she was resisting. He bolted toward them. Manuel was preoccupied and didn't see Jack lunge at him. He was knocked off his prey. He hit the ground hard. Both men arose and assumed boxing stances. Manuel let his right fist fly but Jack ducked underneath it and countered with a left uppercut to the midsection. He caught Manuel squarely and he doubled over in pain. Jack then followed with a right cross to the temple and Manuel fell to his knees. He was dazed but he tried to stand. Jack was about to put him away for good with a left hook when he heard the loud crashing sounds. The stallion had broken the stall's door. It looked down at Andrea lying on the ground. It then jumped over her and headed for the men twenty feet away. Jack saw the horse coming and he ran for a nearby bail of hay and jumped over it. When he got to his knees and looked over the hay he saw the horse on its hind legs near the stunned man. It loudly neighed and came down hard on the man's head with its front hooves. Manuel was forcefully knocked to the ground by the blow. But the horse kept kicking at him. The sound of the iron horseshoes smashing into Manuel's head was sickening. The steady stream of kicks reduced Manuel's head to a bloody muck. The stallion realized its job was done and desisted. It lowered its head and sniffed him. It loudly whinnied. Jack ran to the blonde and knelt down. "Are you alright?" They made eye contact and Jack saw his partner's wife Amy. But he knew that that was impossible. And then it occurred to him. "Andrew? Is it you?" Andrea curiously gazed at the man. He looked familiar but she couldn't think of his name. But she knew he'd saved her from being raped. "Thank you!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. Jack looked into the blonde's eyes and believed he'd found Andrew. "Let's get you into the house." He helped Andrew to his feet and saw he was wearing nothing but a pair of panties. And then he noticed the dangling breasts and thought that maybe he hadn't found Andrew. "Who the hell is this?" Jack found a blanket and wrapped it around the blonde. They walked toward the door. Andrea stopped at the stallion. It proudly stood sentry by the dead man as it guarded its kill. She looked into the horse's eyes and smiled. She gently petted its snout. "Thank you boy." The stallion lowered its head and softly rubbed it against Andrea's shoulder. *** They sat across from each other at the kitchen table and sipped at the coffee Andrea had brewed. Jack looked at her over the rim of his cup. She wore a pink robe she'd retrieved from her closet. She was a dead ringer for Amy Tomlin. He thought he'd probably found Amy's brother Andrew. But then he'd seen those breasts. Andrea looked at the familiar man and smiled. "I want to thank you again." "No problem. Are you Andrew Kramer?" "Arthur told me I'm Andrea Kramer now." Jack remembered Andrew had used the name Andrea when he'd disguised himself as a woman for the job in Montague's office. "Arthur?" "Arthur Montague." Jack nodded. "By the way where is Montague?" "He's on a business trip. He's due back soon." Jack considered that it was probably a good idea to depart before Montague returned. "So you're Andrea Kramer now. But you were Andrew before you became Andrea, right?" "That's right." "And Montague kidnapped you and brought you here?" "He didn't really kidnap me. He told me to come with him." "And you just went with him?" "Yeah." "Why?" Andrea looked confused. "I... I really don't know." Jack considered that Andrew had probably been drugged. He'd read about the new generation of powerful suggestive drugs hitting the street on a website he regularly frequented. "Do you know who I am... Andrea?" "You look a little familiar." "I'm Jack Lacey. My partner is Ritchie Tomlin. Ritchie's wife is your sister Amy." Andrea's eyes lit up. "I want to see Amy!" "You will Andrea. Soon. I promise. But first I think it might be a good idea for you to take a shower. Okay?" Jack was hopeful that that would help clear Andrew's head. *** Jack accompanied Andrew upstairs to his bedroom and watched as he closed the bathroom door behind him. He heard the sound of the shower's spray. Jack scanned the closet and saw all the dresses and skirts. He viewed all of the cosmetics in the room. "What the hell's been going on here?" *** Andrea slipped out of the bathrobe and panties and she stepped into the shower. The warm water felt refreshing as it gently sprayed over her soft body. She thought of Jack, who'd saved her from being raped. She recalled that he worked with Ritchie, her brother-in-law. And that made her think of Amy. Andrea fondly thought of her sister as she ran the bar of soap over her body. She smiled and softly announced, "I want to see Amy." Andrea rinsed herself off and stepped out of the shower. And at that precise moment she recalled the undercover assignment she'd reluctantly taken on for Ritchie. Andrew's mind felt changed. He pondered for a few seconds and realized the difference. His thoughts were no longer obscure and muddy. They were clear and focused now. Andrew looked down and saw the two breasts dangling from his chest. He wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. "What the..." And then he looked between his legs. *** Jack heard the piercing scream and he ran to the bathroom and opened the door. He saw Andrew standing in front of the sink dripping water all over the floor. "What's wrong?" "Look what he's done to me Jack!" Andrew looked down at himself. Jack looked down at Andrew too and saw that he was no longer Andrew. *** They were back at the kitchen table drinking more coffee. Andrea had slipped back into the same robe. She was too embarrassed to put on a dress. She looked at Jack. "I can't believe I agreed to have gender reassignment surgery. I'm not a transsexual. How did this happen Jack?" Jack looked at her and saw the sadness in her eyes. That made him feel sad too. "Dru