Chapter 8

Following Joslyn’s reaction, I walked out of the stall to find a floor-to-ceiling mirror.

My reflection was not what I was expecting. Instead of 15-year-old Emma staring back at me, a woman in her 40s was there. She was vaguely familiar. I put my hands on my face to make sure it was me in the reflection.

She was familiar in that she looked kinda like… my mother. Long brown curly hair. Similar eyes and forehead. Although my reflection wasn’t exactly my mother. The nose and chin reminded me of my original face. It’s almost as if the woman standing in front of me was… my sister… or rather… me — if I had been born a girl.

And hadn’t just died last month.

Joslyn appeared behind me. “Cate? Are you OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“It’s… me,” I mumbled. “I mean — it’s as if Jack was born as a girl.”

The amazement and curiosity faded the moment I realized that once again, I had involuntarily changed Emma’s body.

“No,” I mumbled. “I can’t… I need to change back.”

“Cate, it’s OK,” Joslyn said. “Remember, this is only temporary.”

“You don’t understand. This isn’t my body. It’s Emma's body. I made a promise…” I felt panic rising inside.

“Hey,” she said in a calming voice, putting her hands on my shoulders. “It’s OK. We can talk to Anya and sort through it.”

I took a deep breath, trying my best not to fall into another episode. She’s right — we have more pressing matters — like a murder investigation.

Now that I'd been standing here for a moment, I realized my bikini top was digging into me. I looked at my breasts and realized they were now too large for the cups. I unclasped the strap and experienced immense relief. Sure enough, my breasts were definitely larger. And my thighs. And my hips. I most certainly wasn’t a teenager any more. If the sun spots weren’t clue enough, the hint of wrinkles around the edges of my eyes certainly were.

But that doesn't mean I looked old by any means. Honestly, if the woman in the mirror was my age, she looked pretty good for 43.

We were interrupted by a topless buxom blonde in a baby blue bikini bottom, walking out of another stall. “Are you girls ready?”

I cocked my head at her. Only one other person came in with us — and she didn’t look like him at all. Whereas I was a feminized version of Jack, and Joseyln was a feminized version of herself, this woman was nothing like the agent we traveled with. “Agent Darnell?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“You look—”

“Hot,” she proudly stated, joining us at the mirror, admiring her new form.

I suddenly felt awkward again. Did I mention how much I hate awkward locker room situations? Turns out standing topless in front of a mirror alongside two other topless women was about as awkward as it can get. While my two companions were admiring their new bodies, I was trying to avoid thinking about having transformed Emma’s body again. “Let’s finish getting changed,” I said, heading back to the shower stall. I grabbed the board shorts and slipped my legs through them.

The swim trunks only got midway across my thighs before they couldn’t go further. I pulled harder only to hear the fabric make ripping sounds. “Shit - these don’t fit anymore! And what am I going to do about my top?”

Joslyn came back into the stall and collected her things. “On the other side of that door, Anya will give us bikini tops.”

“I was wearing a perfectly good top before—” I took my bikini top and held it up to my chest to show how inadequate it now was. “This!”

Joslyn giggled. “I’m not sure why your clothes didn't change.”

“Change?”

“Yeah, in all of the stories I’ve read, the clothing you came with changed with you.”

“But those stories you’ve read… have any of the guys walked into the shower already wearing a bikini?”

“No… I suppose not.”

“Maybe a girl walking into the men’s showers fucked the system up,” I sighed, stuffing my clothes back into my tote bag. Then the three of us headed for the exit. Despite being a guy for 42 years and having spent that lifetime going to various pools and beaches topless, I felt very… naked. Maybe it was a habit I had formed over the past year? After all, I had practiced modesty for Emma’s sake. But what about now?

Darnell pushed the door open and we followed.

Sure enough, Anya was standing there with 3 bikini tops in her hand.

“Good evening ladies,” Anya smiled. “Bikini Beach is not a topless park.” She held a baby blue bikini top, matching Darnell’s bottoms, out to him. “One for Sarah.”

Sarah?

“One for Joslyn." She held out a yellow one matching the bottoms Joslyn came with.

“Thank you, Anya!” Joslyn said, taking the top from her.

Anya looked at me and cocked her head. “I didn’t expect you to go into the men’s locker room — but you did.” She then handed me a bikini top that was the same pattern as the one that no longer fit. “Jackie.”

Jackie? “Whoa. No. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name.”

“My apologies… Cate. I assumed because you joined Joslyn and Sarah that you wanted to be transformed into—”

“No. Why did you choose this form?” I asked.

Anya frowned. “I didn’t choose it, you did.”

“What? Can I turn back?” I asked. “While I appreciate not being a teenager anymore, this body isn’t mine, and I would rather not make any physical changes to it.”

“Sorry, like we explain to everyone who comes in with a guest pass, you’re this way until the pass expires.”

“Which is how long?” 

“The weekend,” Darnell replied.

I rolled my eyes. I knew that. I took a deep breath. I can deal. I can allow Emma’s body to be… this for the weekend. I mean, it’s closer to my real age. The age of the man in that casket—

“Thank you, Anya,” Darnell said. “We’re ready to conduct our investigation now.”

Anya nodded. “If you wish to change into dry clothes, you may exit through the women’s locker room. I’ll have a staff member waiting to escort you to the condos.” She looked at me as if she already knew what I was going to ask. “There’s also a gift shop…if you need it.”

* * *

Neither my shorts nor my T-shirt fit the new me. Well, I did get my shirt on, but it was clear I needed another size up. Anya was correct. There was a gift shop near the entrance, like all other theme parks, filled with various “Bikini Beach” branded apparel. I bought a blue T-shirt and a pair of black shorts — before I noticed that they had “Bikini Beach” written across the ass. 

Fuck.

I put them on anyway, then slipped my socks and shoes back on. Thankfully, Emma and my new body were the same shoe size. I met Joslyn and Darnell outside back at the ticket counter. Both were already dressed in their own T-shirts and shorts. I guess they got the memo about bringing clothes that fit the ‘new you.’ I was surprised Darnell wasn’t wearing her suit. But I supposed that wouldn’t fit her now. Darnell was also holding onto a portable handcart with several cases strapped to it, all stenciled with ‘OotD’. I guess she had already retrieved the crime-scene equipment from the car.

a

“Agent Sarah,” Joslyn asked, “where do you want me to go?”

“It’s still Agent Darnell,” she replied. “Darnell is my last name.”

“Sorry.”

“Why Sarah?” I asked.

Darnell looked lost in thought before responding. “I don’t know. They chose it, not me.”

“But it fits, right?” Joslyn smiled.

Darnell raised her eyebrows and repeated “Agent. Darnell.” She sighed. “Joslyn, I’m going to have you check into your room, while Jackie and I check out the scene of the crime.”

“It’s Cate. Or Jack. Or Fox. or Detective.”

Darnell simply smirked.

“Hi,” a woman said, walking up to us. She had dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and was wearing a pink Bikini Beach staff shirt. “I’m Mandy. I’ll be your escort and will be the official representative to the park.” 

Mandy was a cute woman in her late 30s. Our eyes locked for a brief moment and a small smile formed on her face. I felt a rush I hadn’t felt in a while. “Hi Mandy,” I said with a cocky smirk of my own and held out my hand. “Detective Cate Fox — and this is my partner, Agent Sarah Darnell.”

Darnell rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I’m the lead on this case, Fox,” Darnell reminded me.

Mandy shifted her eyes back and forth between me and Darnell and decided she didn’t want to get in between our rivalry. “Nice to meet you both. Follow me.”

* * *

After Agent Darnell gave Joslyn the company card and had her check in, we followed Mandy to the crime scene.

The condo was nice, yet dated. It had a definite early-2000s aesthetic. Bright-colored carpets and walls. Every person we passed in the hall was a beautiful woman. Since the water park was almost closed and it was approaching dinner time, there were women in fancy dinner attire. All wore great big smiles on their faces. On the surface it looked like Bikini Beach was truly paradise. 

In order to keep myself from getting distracted from all of the eye andy, I kept my eyes straight ahead… on Mandy. Whose Bikini Beach branded short shorts were very flattering. Of course then I remembered I was wearing those same shorts I bought at the gift shop, and subconsciously tugged at the bottom of my T-shirt.

Mandy stopped at a door and inserted a keycard into a card reader. The card reader blinked green and Mandy stepped aside with an anxious frown. “This is it.”

Darnell looked down at the door handle and turned to me. “Normally, we would dust this door for prints,” she explained, “but other people have touched it and likely smeared whatever we could find.” 

Mandy turned red and wanted to protest, but instead looked down at her feet. 

Darnell reached into a pocket on one of the cases and produced three pairs of latex gloves. “Everyone please put these on,” she requested. “And try not to touch anything you don’t have to. “Placement might reveal what transpired, and of course prints, fibers, and DNA could be anywhere.” 

The three of us put on the gloves then walked into the unit and shut the door behind us.

“The gunshot was heard across the park,” Mandy explained. “This is the first murder to ever happen here, and we wanted to follow all of the proper protocols outlined by the Order.”

In any other murder investigation, qualified crime scene investigators would arrive first, to avoid disturbing the crime scene. Detectives, a medical examiner, maybe even canine officers. Apparently due to the sensitive nature of the park, its magic, and this particular victim; we’ve circumvented that standard procedure. “The Order should really invest in actual CSIs,” I suggested.

Darnell looked at me. “What do you think I am?”

“Oh — well, I’m used to a whole team and…” 

Darnell’s patience was wearing thin.

“... and I suppose I’m part of that team for this investigation.” I turned to Mandy. “Sorry, please continue.”

“A neighbor discovered the body,” she replied, “but we made sure no one else has been inside since then.”

“We’re going to need to talk to the neighbor,” Darnell replied.

“Of course,” Mandy agreed. “I’ll arrange it.”

The first room we went in was the kitchen.

Darnell nodded, her eyes already scanning the room. Nothing out of place. We followed Mandy into the living area.

“So these are condos?” I asked. “People own these?”

“Yes,” Mandy replied. “Years ago this complex was once privately owned, but since then, the park has taken over management of it. Many units are still owned by individuals. This particular unit was being rented out via Airbnb. Of course, because of the sensitive nature of… this, we haven’t yet told the owner.”

The condo was upscale. Fully furnished. The living space was a modest size, but well decorated. In front of us was an open balcony that overlooked the water park, and in the distance I could see water slides poking out from the canopy of trees and into the darkening orange and crimson sky. The patio door was wide open, letting the warm humidity into the room. Fortunately the screen door was closed, keeping insects and whatever else outside.

In my years in the force, I’d only encountered a few dead bodies. There were a few missing persons that unfortunately resulted in us finding them too late. Then there was my former partner who was shot and killed in front of me. Then there was, of course, the incident that resulted in Jackie Sander’s death last year.

What I’ve learned is that you never really get used to seeing dead bodies. Or at least I haven't. The blood. The violence of the scene. But the worst part was the stench of those bodies which had been dead for a long time. That putrid odor burns into your lungs and your mind. And nothing can erase it.

Darnell and I stopped in front of the body on the floor in the middle of the living area. 

The bikini-clad woman was face-down in front of the couch. A pool of blood under her. A telltale bullet wound in the center of her back, right about the bikini strap.

“You said in the report you're assuming this woman is Timothy Green,” I recalled. “How’d you come to that assumption?”

“This condo is being rented to Melissa Green. She is unaccounted for.”

“She was shot from behind,” I observed. “Close range, judging from the tight pattern of blood spots on the carpet.”

Darnell looked around at the couch. At the electronics. “It doesn’t appear to be a robbery, as nothing valuable seems to be missing” She looked at me. “Fox, were you ever a CSI?”

“No,” I replied. “Missing persons.” It’s true. I did not have the stomach for crime scene investigation. In fact, I’d rather not be in this condo unit right now. If it wasn’t for the agreement with Hathaway, I’d wait outside and let Darnell do her thing.

Darnell sighed, then pulled a large digital camera out of a case. She took pictures of the body from all different angles. Then she placed numbered markers near each blood spatter and photographed them too. Pictures of the electronic equipment were next.

“We’ll need to collect all of this equipment,” Darnell instructed, pulling plastic evidence bags from her case. “Anything that could make a recording, or might have evidence stored on it.”

I began disconnecting the cables from the webcam and laptop, placing each item in a plastic evidence bag for analysis in the Order’s crime lab — if they even had one. Seems like they could look at a crystal ball or something and see the whole crime unfold, including positive identification of the killer and the victim.

“Hey, Darnell, why does the Order even need to investigate?” I questioned. “You guys can always use magic to solve this case.”

“Unfortunately not,” Agent Darnell responded without stopping her collection of evidence. “It’s a complicated legal issue, but basically the courts do not recognize use of the supernatural as a legal investigative process, since it is not available to what you call ‘Normies’. So we are bound by the same rules of law and discovery as standard police units.”

I felt I needed to be useful so I turned to Mandy who was watching us from a far corner of the living area. Looks like I’m not the only one who would rather be elsewhere. “So, Mandy — stupid question — because I’ve been around enough TGs to know everyone has a different transformation. How are you sure Melissa Green is Timothy Green?”

“I have a picture of her before and after the shower.” She held up a manila folder. 

I took it from her and opened the folder to find a photograph that was split into two images. 

“That is from security footage,” Mandy added.

The left hand side was a candid image of a man standing at what appeared to be the ticket counter. I recognized him from the video Joslyn shared with me. The right-hand side was a candid of a woman exiting the locker room. The woman in the picture was wearing the same bikini as the victim currently on the floor.

“The credit card the man used was registered to Timothy Green of Florida,” Mandy added. “When I saw the name, I had to do a double check. The card and the man in this photo is the influencer.”

“Who else knows?” I asked. “About the victim's possible identity?"

“The three of us and Anya. Anya was working the gates when he entered the park. I’m unsure if he used an alias to book this room.”

“We should interview Anya,” Darnell said.

“Anya is very busy, which is why I’m your representative.”

“But you aren’t an eye witness,” Darnell added.

“No,” Mandy timidly replied.

“We appreciate your help,” I told Mandy with a smile to sooth over Darnell’s crassness. “But it would be helpful to the case if you can schedule something with Anya with us.”

She nodded and smiled. “OK.”

Darnell appeared next to me, and handed me a fresh set of gloves. “We’re going to have to interview the owner too,” Darnell added. “Alright, before we can move the body we have to document everything. Location, blood spatter, any fibers and reconstruct the crime.”

“Lead the way,” I said, replacing my gloves with new ones.

I followed his lead, attempting to reconstruct the crime. Cataloging blood and anything else we could find. Aside from blood, the unit was clean. That tracks, since Mandy said the victim checked into the unit only two hours before she was murdered. We started to form an initial recreation of the crime. Where the victim was standing — next to the couch. Where the shooter was — at the threshold between the kitchen and living room. Single shot to the back.

Mandy, looking very bored and uncomfortable, stayed out of the way in the kitchen.

I noticed a scattered pile of papers on the floor beside the couch. The breeze from the open patio door must have blown them off. I gathered them up and sorted through them. Credit card receipts for various purchases. Gas. Bottled water from a Bikini Beach kiosk. A “Bikini Beach Dress Boutique." These can be used to determine a timeline of the victims path from the gate, through the back, back to here.

 “Fox, can you flip the body so we can ID her — to make sure she’s the woman in this picture?”

Darnell and I returned to the body as Mandy quickly retreated to the kitchen. I sighed, pulled on the gloves and knelt down beside the body. I grabbed her shoulder and flipped her.

When I looked at her face, I gasped because I didn’t see who I was expecting to see.

Not the face of Timothy or Melissa Green. 

It was the face of Emma Kincade — the face I wore for the past eleven months.

As the contents of my stomach immediately curdled, I flinched and backed away, eventually slamming my back into a dresser behind me..

“Fox?” Darnell asked.

When I looked back at the body, it was no longer Emma’s face, but instead the face of the victim in the photograph. Melissa Green, staring up at the ceiling with lifeless blue eyes.

I could feel the bile in the back of my mouth as I got up and ran towards the bathroom. I quickly lifted the lid and threw up in the bowl.

Flashes of Emma’s face filled my mind. The fear that Emma’s fate was the same as Jack’s. What if she was lying in a ditch somewhere too? What if the last reminder of that innocent teen was the body I was inhabiting. The body that no longer resembled her.

I felt a hand on my back and my hair getting pulled out of my face.

I glanced up to see Mandy kneeling beside me.

“That is exactly why I didn’t stay in the room,” she chuckled, while petting my back. “I’m surprised a detective has the same reaction.”

“I was never in homicide,” I said, spitting the last remnants of bile from my lips. “Missing persons. I prefer the people I find to still be alive.”

I sat down on the cold floor and looked up at Mandy. “Sorry. This is embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She handed me a towel.

Agent Darnell showed up at the bathroom door. “Fox, are you OK? If you can’t handle this, I can always book you and your friend a flight back to school.”

But if I left, then I couldn’t get the lifetime pass for Joslyn. I couldn't leave yet. “I’m fine. My stomach is empty now. It was mostly whatever I had for lunch. My dining hall serves up a helping of food poisoning for their Friday special.”

Darnell didn’t believe that. “If you want to leave this to the professionals, I’m sure everyone would understand.”

“I’m fine.” Asshole. “Let’s get back to collective evidence.”

Mandy grimaced. “I’m going to go back outside if that’s OK with you both.”

I got up, washed my face, and assisted Agent Darnell in combing over the crime scene. Maybe I should call ahead to Joslyn that we won’t be home for dinner.