More Murder Misstery

Good thing, I'd need it! One of the things I almost enjoyed about being a woman was the opportunity to wear the cute clothes that I used to like on chicks. I always had a thing for Burberrys, and before I knew it I was trying on wool skirts and dresses in their trademark plaid. A few thousand pounds later, wearing my new Burberrys trench coat, I was in a taxi back to my hotel, surrounded by shopping bags full of tights, sweaters, purses and shoes to complete my ensembles.

Girlish figure or no, I treated myself to an English breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and then I found a pharmacy to fill my new prescription. While I was waiting, I filled a shopping basket with cosmetics, moisturizing lotions, and hair accessories before returning to my room to prepare myself for what was to come. First I shampooed and conditioned my long brown hair. Then a bubble bath and a full body shave, which were becoming much less frequent since the hormones took over. Lingering in the tub, I thought back to Jacques' final words to me: "most of your problems are in your head..." While I soaped what was left of myself in the tub, I wondered I would ever be able to love a woman again?

It hardly seemed possible as I dressed myself for the day ahead. My full, round breasts welcomed the caress of a silky black brassiere, and my newly-rounded hips fit snugly into my matching panties. Then I removed the towel from my hair and patiently dried and styled it with my new butterfly clips. Sheer black thigh high stockings were next -- I'd almost forgotten how wonderful hose felt on my legs, and I eased them on lovingly. A black cashmere turtleneck sweater, a lacy half slip, my plaid Burberrys skirt, and black pumps with gold stirrups completed my outfit.

Looking at the beautiful woman in the full-length mirror, I knew that both Tracy and Jacques were right: I should have been a girl...this was my destiny. After a glance at the clock on the nightstand, I hurriedly put on my jewelry and cologne, organized my purse, and let myself out.

Half an hour later, I was sitting in the lobby of a bustling commercial hotel when a convoy of flight attendants came through the revolving door. There she was, pulling her suitcase, wearing the same navy blue topcoat that I'd borrowed from her that first day, a lifetime ago. I buried my nose in the Evening Standard and waited until she'd checked in and received her key. After I made sure she wasn't being followed, I got up and fell in behind her as she stood in line at the crowded elevators.

As prearranged, I said nothing until we were alone in the corridor outside her room. "Tracy," I said in Matt's old voice. She spun around on her heel, and at first she didn't recognize me.

"Oh...my...God!" she gasped as she rushed into my arms. Our breasts pressed together, and she momentarily pulled away, a look of astonishment on her beautiful face. "Is that really you?"

"Yes," I said ruefully. "It's really me, Tracy."

She took me into her arms and hugged me again. I took the key from her quivering hand and opened the door. We tumbled into her room, still locked in an embrace, pawing at each other as we fell onto the bed. I kissed her deeply, and she moaned in response, her fingers caressing my silky hair. "Oh Matt...Maddy...I missed you so much!"

"I love you, Tracy," I whispered into her ear.

"I love you too, baby," she panted as she tore at my clothes. I felt her hands probing under my skirt, then she was feeling my breasts through my sweater, and pretty soon she was tugging it over my head. I lay back passively and let her explore my new body, sharing in her wonder at what had become of me. When she finally unsnapped my bra, her eyes were fierce with desire, and when she teased my tender nipples with her teeth, for the first time in memory I felt a stirring below my waist. The wonderful glow intensified when she eased my panties down to my knees, although my penis could only tremble softly when she took it into her mouth. I thought back to the words Jacques had spoken to me...it's mostly in your head...and to my wonderment, I felt myself beginning to stiffen as she sucked on me while she caressed my silky stockings. From deep within my body, the beginnings of an orgasm began to grow, softly at first, then suddenly with an urgency that took us both by surprise. Tears filled my eyes when the first delightful spasms shook my body, and I cried out again and again as the sweet waves of ecstasy went on and on.

When it was finally over, I sat up and peeled off my stockings. Tracy could only stare at my beautiful body, still in awe over what was happening. I kissed her gently on the lips, and then I started in on her, feeling a strange familiarity as I gently removed her skirt, her lingerie, her stockings...when I caressed her breasts, it was with newfound bliss, and to my complete surprise, I felt myself stiffening again. Tracy felt it too, and we stared at each other in wonder as she guided me into her, bucking her hips to the once forgotten thrusting, our nipples throwing off sparks as our breasts brushed together. My body responding with unbridled joy as I found what I thought I had lost forever, until we both surrendered to shattering, simultaneous orgasms.

When our love and lust were completely consumed, we lay side by side for a long time, lost in our separate thoughts. Tracy finally broke the silence.

"Just when I thought I might be gay."

"Just when I thought I might be a woman."

"Just promise me you'll stay this way."

"I'm afraid I don't have any choice."

"When are you coming back to clear your name?"

It was the question I'd been dreading. "Tracy, I have to tell you something."

Her voice became guarded. "What is it?"

"I lied to you."

"About what?"

"About that night with Norman Wolf. Tracy, he really did set me up. But when I went to his apartment that night, there was an accident. I never meant to do it, but I killed him."

She didn't respond for a long time as it slowly sank in. "When are you going to turn yourself in?" she asked at length.

"I can't, Tracy. They'll never believe that it was really an accident."

"How do I know whether to believe you now? My God, you killed a man! How can you live with yourself?"

How could I begin to explain what it was like, throwing away my identity, my family, even my manhood...looking over my shoulder every day, one small mistake away from spending the rest of my life in an Illinois prison?

"If you keep running, you can never go back home...how are you going to support yourself?"

No one in the world knew the answer to that question but me. Norman Wolf had covered up his crimes brilliantly, and the contents of his safe were an unsolved mystery. And I didn't want Tracy to know. How could I ever be sure of her love if it came with the knowledge of my hidden millions? I bit my tongue and remained silent.

"I just can't believe you think you're going to get away with it. Do you know how many times I've spotted the FBI or the cops watching me, wondering if they were tapping my phone or opening my mail? I just can't live like this, Matt."

"What are you saying, Tracy?"

"Go! Get out, dammit, before I call the police myself. You frighten me...." Her voice trailed off in fits of sobbing, before she got up and slammed the bathroom door behind her.

When she finally returned, I was almost dressed. She watched silently as I slipped my stockings back on and stepped into my heels. I started to say something, but she cut me off. "I just can't believe that you did this to me. It was one thing to ask me to help you, but to expect me to help you get away with murder?" Her sobs started again, and I let myself out without saying goodbye.

Terry's recriminations were ringing in my ears as I took the long way back to my hotel. It was raining again, but I didn't take out my umbrella. I buried my hands in the pockets of my trench coat and stared at my feet, like I did the first time I went out with Tracy as a woman, feeling utterly miserable and very alone.

I pulled myself together after I got back to my room. Packing quickly, I called for my bill and a taxi to Waterloo Station, were the last Eurostar to Paris would soon be boarding.

After I bought my ticket, I showed my passport to the French border police, passed through the security line, and found my seat in one of the first class carriages. As I picked at my meal, I thought back despondently over my disastrous rendezvous with Tracy. If only I'd kept my big mouth shut! But the more I thought about it, the more I knew that I had to tell her the truth if there was to be any future for us, and in a way I was relieved at the finality of it all. With the last of my testosterone sapped by our incredible lovemaking, the woman deep within me was asserting herself once again, and she knew what she wanted.

Coolly, I recounted what I'd conveyed to Tracy about my whereabouts. All she knew was that I was living in Europe and using the name Maddy. Of course she also knew that I'd grown my hair and developed breasts, but she knew nothing about my fake identification, the full name I was using, or the fortune stashed away in my Swiss bank account. I didn't think she'd turn on me, but even if she did, it would only lead the authorities on another wild goose chase, in London this time.

I closed my eyes and replayed our lovemaking once again. It was wonderful, amazing...but I had to be honest with myself. Kissing Tracy had been less exciting than kissing Jacques, which seemed strangely natural to me now. There was something tantalizing about being the passive one, yielding willingly to his passion, and I wondered what it would be like to give myself to him completely....

My reverie was shattered when we shot past a Eurostar racing in the opposite direction, each of us moving at almost 200 miles per hour through the French countryside. Less than three hours after we left London, we were pulling into the Gare du Nord. I took a taxi to the Plaza Athenee once again, and asked if the same suite was available. It was.

The nasty weather followed me across the channel. I waited until nine o'clock before calling Dr. Bochy's office. His officious receptionist answered at once. "Halo?"

"This is Maddy Monroe. Is the doctor in?"

"No Mademoiselle, he is still on holiday."

"There is a problem with a prescription he gave me. Can you please ask him to call me at his earliest convenience?"

"What sort of problem?"

"Please just give him the message. It's urgent." I gave her the number of my suite at the Plaza Athenee and rang off.

I was trying to decide what to wear when the telephone rang. "Maddy," Jacques said. "What are you doing in Paris?"

"Waiting for you."

"According to my office, there is a problem with your new prescription."

"I lied."

"I see...what about your lady friend?"

"I'm afraid she lost out to your fantasy woman."

"Hmm...this is serious. Fortunately I can return to Paris this afternoon, and this time a physical examination will definitely be necessary."

"Le Relais at seven?"

"Until then."

This time the boutiques of Paris didn't disappoint me. When I entered the packed bistro a few minutes past seven, I turned the heads of half the men in the room. Jacques was waiting for me at the same romantic booth, and he beamed at the sight of me in my frilly white confection. "You look sensational!"

"Do you like my new dress?" I did a little twirl before I sat down beside him in a froth of tulle. "I bought it just for you."

"I adore it on you." He kissed my hand, lingering a few inches away from my breasts, which were barely contained by my halter top.

"I'm up here," I teased him. For once, he was the one who blushed, and we shared a moment of silent contentment after he lit our cigarettes. "I hope you didn't end your vacation just for me."

"Duty calls. Madame Bochy was prevailed upon by her mother to stay in Monte Carlo for another week," he winked conspiratorially.

Jacques must have ordered champagne before I came in, and I offered a toast after our glasses were filled. "To your mother-in-law," I said with a sly grin.

"How appropriate... they use this champagne to christen battleships." We laughed at our silly jokes as we drank, staring at each other over the rims of our glasses. "Tell me Maddy," he asked at length, "what made you come back?"

I felt totally at ease with Jacques, so I bared my soul to him. "When I was a man, sex was the most important thing in the world to me. The day after I told you goodbye forever, I had it once again. Don't get me wrong, it was wonderful, but afterwards...."

"Go on, Maddy."

"That's not what I want any more."

"And what is it that you want, Maddy?"

"I want it all, Jacques. If I have to live the rest of my life as a woman, I don't want to be half a man. I want you to make me into your woman." There, I'd said it! I started to sniffle, and Jacques produced his handkerchief once again. The wait staff at Le Relais must have thought he was a brute. "I'm sorry, Jacques, I'm so screwed up!"

"To the contrary, you are the most insightful person I have ever met, man or woman. When I think of your metamorphosis during those lonely months in your cocoon in Provence...it is time to spread your wings, my little butterfly." He lifted my chin and pressed his lips against mine. The world stopped as we lost ourselves in a French kiss, exploring each other like we were the only two people in the world. I pressed my legs against his, and when he touched my naked knees, I slid his hand closer and closer to my forsaken jewels....

When at last we opened our eyes, a waiter was standing by our table, regarding us with amusement. Once again, Jacques ordered for both of us, and when he spoke to me again, he was very much the man in charge. "We've much to do. Tomorrow morning, I will refer you to a gifted surgeon who has performed many miracles for my patients." I must have looked startled, because he quickly added, "Don't worry, Cheri. There is a mandatory waiting period, during which you will be required to live completely as a woman under my care. In the afternoon, I will show you a furnished apartment in the 5th Arrondissement that was recently vacated by an acquaintance of mine...."

"I don't need a gilded cage, Jacques. There are some things about me that you should know...."

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "I have never understood the American mania for 'closure'. Whatever demons pursued you into my world are hereby pronounced dead on arrival in Paris. Carpe diem."

I yielded to him with a girlish shrug. "I'm going to have to learn French."

"Actually, it's Latin, from a poem by Horace. He recited it from memory:

Don't ask, it's dangerous to know what end the gods will give you
Better just to deal with whatever comes your way
Whether you'll see many more winters
Or whether the last one is now pelting the shore with the waves
Be wise, drink your wine, scale back your long hopes to the moment
Even as we speak, jealous time is running away from us
Seize the day, trusting little in the future."

By the author of The Jessica Project