Chapter 10

I woke up to a rustling sound beside me. My first instinct was to grumble at Sophia for being too perky too early. “Com’n Sophia, it’s too early,” I moaned into the pillow, my voice sounding richer and more mature than the mousy squeak I’d lived with for the past year.

“It’s just me,” Joslyn corrected.

Then I opened my eyes and realized where I was. Not in Cooper Hall. I was in a luxury condo at Bikini Beach. 

Joslyn was beside the bed, adjusting her yellow bikini top. A different one than yesterday. “I’m going to head down to breakfast,” she announced. “Wanna join me?”

“Sure,” I said, throwing off my covers and feeling the sting of the cool air. I sat up, feeling slower and heavier. Being a teenager the past eleven months was nice. I hadn’t felt joints this stiff since the last morning I was Jack Baker. “It was a late night.”

“I noticed — you didn’t get in until after midnight.”

It’s true. Agent Darnell was thorough in investigating every nook and cranny of the victim’s condo. We also had to wait for the Order's designated coroner to come and take the body away. At least I remembered to send Sophia a text to tell her we got in alright.

Unfortunately, all of that time spent there, and all of the potential evidence collected, hadn’t yet yielded any meaningful results. This is why I’m not a CSI. I’d rather be out in the field looking for living people instead of trapped in a room with a corpse all evening. 

I looked down on the floor where I discarded my Bikini Beach-branded clothes before getting into bed. My only clothes. “Let me just get dressed.”

“Should I knock on Sarah’s door and invite her down?” Joslyn asked, referring to Agent Darnell.

Thankfully Agent Darnell had her own room. I don’t think I could stand being with her one more moment after last night.

“No,” I replied. “I spent all evening with Agent Darnell. I imagine I’ll spend all day again with her today. Let’s just eat breakfast in peace.” Last thing I need is watching Darnell bag up my breakfast and trying to figure out how it died.

“Sure.”

“Give me a minute — I need to take a leak.” I put my bikini top, T-shirt, and shorts back on and trudged down the hall to the condo’s bathroom.

After a minute on the toilet, I pulled up my bottoms and shorts and looked at the reflection in the mirror. Now that I didn’t have an audience, I could really look at myself. 

The not-so-foreign face stared back at me.

Running a hand through the thick, curly brown hair, I wondered if this was the kind of head of hair I would have kept if my old self hadn't gone bald.

Dropping all my clothes, I stood there completely naked. I had never bothered doing that back when I was in Emma's body; though after eleven months of showers, changing clothes, and catching glimpses in mirrors, I knew her figure inside and out, whether I liked it or not.

I assume this was supposed to be me — an alternate reality me — who had been born a girl. Female Jack. Anya had told me she hadn’t chosen this form. I did. I’m not sure why I would do that. It’s not like there was a questionnaire. “If you had to transform into a woman, whom would you choose?” What would I have chosen? Probably to not change Emma’s body at all. But if I had to? A hot celebrity? I dunno. 

The woman in the mirror was definitely in her 40s. Her breasts were larger than Emma’s. Heavier and sagging down slightly without a bra or bikini top. Her hips were wider, with the love handles of a woman who’s enjoyed a good pastrami sandwich — or two.

Staring closely at her face, I couldn't help but question her identity. She was me, logically, but — who exactly was she? Would she have joined the force like I did? Would her father have disapproved like he did with me? Would she have reached out to Aunt Cate and her cousins? Would she have been on that train platform almost a year ago? Would she have been in that casket instead of me?

Maybe I’ll never know the answers to those questions. She’s me right now. All summer I’ve been living Emma’s life. Maybe I could live this woman’s life for the weekend.

After getting redressed, I joined Joslyn in heading downstairs to the restaurant located on the first level.

We passed a dress shop. I recognized the name from the credit card receipt I saw yesterday. I stopped and read the hours of operation sign. “Opens at 10 AM.” I’ll have to come back to this place later.

“Cute,” Joslyn remarked, looking at some of the mannequins in the window.

“The victim had a receipt from this place,” I said — just to let Joslyn know I wasn’t actually looking for a dress.

We continued on to the restaurant.

Saturday morning at Bikini Beach. The restaurant was already packed with women, most of them sporting bikinis or light coverups. In addition to the scent of cooking food, there was also the unmistakable scent of sunscreen.

A hostess greeted us with a practiced smile and led us to a vacant table.

I didn't bother with the menu; I just requested a black coffee, a massive garden omelet, and a side of hash browns.

We sat there quietly waiting for the food. Both of us were too occupied with taking in the surroundings. It was hard to not look.

The food arrived quickly, the combined smells of grease and coffee doing their best to jumpstart my brain.

I took a bite of the omelet… much better than the dining hall at PAA.

“So,” Joslyn began, leaning forward over her breakfast. “How did the investigation go last night?”

“Murder investigations suck,” I complained, washing the egg down with some hot coffee. “I spent hours looking at a corpse."

“That does suck.”

“What bothers me is — what was this guy even doing here?”

“Well, in stories I’ve read, misogynist guys were brought here to be taught the errors of their ways.”

“Yeah — but that implies someone brought the victim here. Who brought Timothy Green here? The killer?”

“That would be a total waste of the transformation showers.”

“Right. So I think we’re looking for someone else — possibly an accomplice — or maybe just a friend. We’re going to need witnesses.”

“The neighbors?”

“Darnell said we’d be interviewing them today. But I don’t think anything will come from it. I want to know what Green was doing before she was murdered."

“Any clues on the killer?”

“Not yet. Best we can tell is the killer and the victim did not know each other. If I had to guess — it would be an assassination. Maybe a pissed-off trans woman.”

Joslyn put her glass of orange juice down abruptly making a loud thunk on the table. “Don’t do that, Cate.”

“Do what?”

“Jump to conclusions that a trans person is violent.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Mainstream media does that. They jump to conclusions and point fingers at the trans community all of the time. If you do that, you’re no better than Timothy Green.”

“Sorry,” I said, holding my palms up in a gesture of peace.

She shook her head in embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn't mean to get upset.”

“No, you had every right to, Joslyn."

“Just promise me you will do your due diligence and find the real killer and not just assume it was a trans person.”

“I will.”

Just then, a familiar face approached our table — Mandy. Except today she wasn’t wearing a staff T-shirt, she was wearing a see-through knit dress that hinted at her red bikini underneath. She was holding a large water bottle and a banana and had a large beach bag slug over her shoulder.

“Good morning, Agent Fox,” the cheery staff member said.

“Good morning, Mandy,” I replied. “And technically, it’s Detective. I don’t actually work for the Order, I’m on special assignment with them. Are you working today?”

“I’m typically off on Saturdays, though I was directed to be on call for your investigation 24/7.”  She pulled her cell phone out of her beach bag and waved it.

“I’m sorry we’re ruining your time off,” I apologized.

“Don’t be,” she said, flashing a smile at me. “It’s not your fault you were dragged here.”

Another smile.

“Would you like to… join us?” I slowly kicked out a chair next to Joslyn.

“I’d love to,” she replied, “but I’m in a rush to reserve a chair by the pool. You’re… welcome to join me… later… when you’re not working.”

I raised my eyebrows. An intriguing proposition. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Joslyn silently moved her eyes from me to Mandy and back.

She was right. I should get back to business.

“Mandy, I had a question,” I began. “Did…” I didn’t want to say his name in public. “...Melissa Green, come with anyone?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I’d have to ask Anya. She was at the ticket counter that morning.”

“Is she available this morning?”

“I don’t think so. She took this weekend off. That’s why I’m your official representative of the park.”

“Thanks,” I said. That really didn’t answer my question, but I’m a capable detective and can answer those questions elsewhere.

“Anyway,” Mandy continued, “I’ll be enjoying the park amenities.” She handed me a business card. “If you need me, give me a call and I’ll be right over. Or come find me.”

“Will do,” I confidently replied.

“Oh, and don’t be afraid to take advantage of your stay and enjoy the amenities yourself.”

“I won’t, Mandy. Thank you,” I smiled back.

Mandy continued on her way, and left the restaurant. I kept my eyes on her as she walked. I hated to see her go, but…

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Joslyn suddenly blurted out, irritation evident in her voice.

My concentration was broken. “What. Oh. Um. Brittany. Only during the full moon. And we’re kinda fighting right now anyway.”

“OK. But Mandy…” Joslyn remarked. “She’s like… double your age.” 

“What?” I sputtered. “No. I’m actually 43. I suppose technically I’m now older than her.”

“Does she know you’re normally 15?”

“Hey — well the park gave me a 43-year-old body that I didn’t want for a reason. Besides, we don’t know if Mandy is into girls or into me. She’s in customer service. She could just be very helpful."

Joslyn rolled her eyes before something else behind me caught her attention.

From behind me, Agent Darnell walked around the table then sat down next to her in the chair in front of me that I pushed out for Mandy. She looked at us. “Good morning. Fox. Joslyn."

“Agent Darnell,” I replied, leaning back and making a show of enjoying my coffee.

“I scheduled us to meet with some neighbors this morning,” she said, “that is… unless you’re unable to keep down breakfast.”

“Nah, I’m good. Not everyone can spend their whole day with corpses. Let’s talk to these neighbors. They are… alive, right?”

“Yes, they’re alive. ”

“Good.” 

“We’re scheduled to meet them in five minutes.”

Well, there goes the rest of my breakfast. I still had half an omelet left. I took a final sip of my coffee and wiped my lips. “Before we go up, I want to check out the dress shop. I found a receipt in Green’s room.”

Darnell nodded.

I stood up then turned to Joslyn. “Jos, where can I find you later?”

“I’ll be… enjoying the amenities.” She made an exaggerated Mandy impression then flipped her hair.

I chuckled.

As we left the restaurant, Darnell asked, “What are you looking for at this shop?”

“I have a hunch Melissa Green wasn’t alone.”

“The security photograph showed she was.”

“Well, people like Timothy Green don’t come to Bikini Beach alone,” I replied. “We need more security footage. Public places. Stores…”

“And this is based on? Your hunch, or those fictional stories your friend talks about?”

“Both.”

“He could’ve just had a fetish. It happens all of the time with people who are publicly against something they secretly crave.”

Honestly, that thought had crossed my mind, too. During my time on the force, I definitely came across homophobic politicions who were found in seedy hotels having compromising gay sex. Is that Timothy Green, too?

Maybe I’m just being biased. After all, I’m a missing person’s detective, and here I am looking for a missing person.

Darnell and I made our way to the dress shop just as they were opening for the morning.

“Hi,” I said to the elderly shopkeeper. “I’m Detective Fox, this is my partner, Agent Darnell.”

Darnell flashed his Order badge.

The shopkeeper looked at it and nervously asked, “What can I do for you?”

“A customer ordered something yesterday,” I started. “I wanted to follow up on it. Do you keep customer names?”

“I do,” she said, picking up a tablet. “What was the name?”

“Green,” I replied.

“Yes,” she said. “She booked an appointment a few days ago for yesterday but never showed up.”

I debated whether I should tell the poor lady that Melissa Green didn't show up for her appointment because she had a scheduling conflict — an appointment with the business end of a gun. “What was the appointment for?”

“Well, as you must be aware, sometimes our guests don’t know their dress sizes before they show up here. We provide that service for them.”

“So she was getting measured for a dress?”

“That is correct. And rental.”

“Was it just for her?” I asked, flashing a glance at Darnell.

The shopkeeper looked down at the tablet. She cocked her head. “Green, party of two.”

I knew it!

Darnell nodded.

“Is there any other information about their appointment?” Darnell asked.

“Only the appointment time — 3 PM — and the number of people in the party.”

“Thank you,” I told the shopkeeper. “You’ve been very helpful.”

As we walked out of the dress shop Darnell was silent. Either he was annoyed I was right or impressed. Not sure which. And I didn’t care.

“I think we should review the security footage now,” I said.

Darnell nodded in silent agreement.

* * *

Joslyn

Joslyn Clark watched Cate and Agent Darnell walk out of the restaurant. She was eager to enjoy the amenities of Bikini Beach. Of course when she fantasized about being able to come here — she wasn’t alone. She had really hoped Cate would join her. But that was stupid. Cate came here because of a murder investigation. She was working.

This wasn't a vacation, she told herself. That didn’t stop her from being lonely. She was always lonely. She was lonely at home, at PAA, and now at Bikini Beach. 

She sighed and picked at her French toast and downed the rest of her orange juice. When she set the glass on the table, she saw a teen girl sitting in a booth by herself. 

The girl made eye contact with Joslyn.

Joslyn smiled and waved at her.

The girl wiped her cheek, smiled and waved back. What Joslyn realized then is that the girl had red eyes and puffy cheeks. 

Joslyn, before yesterday, was a wallflower. She was a trans girl at a school dominated by TG girls. She was always an outsider and thus all she wanted to do was blend in and not call attention to the fact that she wasn’t like the other girls.

But the Joslyn of today told herself she didn’t have to be a wallflower. She didn’t have to hide anymore. So she got up from the table and walked over to the girl’s booth. “Hi,” she said warmly.

“Hi,” the girl responded, looking up. She was even cuter in person, Joslyn thought. A little older too. Maybe 18 or 19.

“I noticed you were crying.”

“Oh… umm… it’s nothing.”

Be confident, Joslyn thought. “I know, right. You’re at Bikini Beach! What’s there to be sad about?”

The girl looked at Joslyn for a moment, then quietly replied, “I’m alone.”

“So am I,” Joslyn said, trying to tame her enthusiasm. “Neither of us should be alone. Do you want to join me?”

“What about your friends? The two older women?”

“Oh them? They have to work. Boo. Which leaves me all alone to explore this wonderful place! So what do you say?”

The girl smiled. “That would be nice.”

“I’m Joslyn." She held out her hand.

“Keira.”

“It's nice to meet you, Keira. Now lets go hit the slides or lazy river or something that will put a smile on that face!”