There was no déjà vu when Penelope burst into the college cafeteria. Melissa Doyle was the furthest thing from her mind; her heels clicked-clacked on the tiled floor as she strode purposely into the large space, mostly empty at this time of day. She looked around frantically until she found Jaylene Foster sitting at a table by herself, her head buried in the screen of her laptop.

Penelope sat across from her and Jaylene looked up a little surprised and then she smiled and Penelope’s heart swelled. She reached out and took Jaylene’s hand in her own and kissed it softly.

“What's wrong Penny?” Jaylene looked concerned.

If anyone else had called her Penny at that particular time she would have swung at them.

“There’s been a development,” Penelope swallowed.

“A development?” Jaylene closed her laptop and looked at Penelope, trying to read her expression.

“He’s taken another girl,” Penelope’s mouth was dry; she could hardly speak.

She put her hand over Jaylene’s and clasped it, wanting to hold her, wanting to comfort her, wanting to never let her go.

“Oh?” was all Jaylene could articulate; she couldn’t take in the enormity of it.

“Was she?” Jaylene whispered.

“She was a prostitute yes but she wasn’t trans,” Penelope said.

“Are you sure it’s him?” Jaylene didn’t like that she said those words with hope in her voice.

“It’s him,” Penelope said with cold conviction.

“I want you to come and stay with me. Just for a little while,” Penelope forced a wan smile.

“Stay with you?” Jaylene sounded confused.

“I don’t want anything from you. I know I behaved petulantly asking you to stay with me before, telling you that I loved you so early in our relationship. I’m sorry,” Penelope breathed.

“It’s not what you think. I left your apartment because I wanted to stay. I didn’t want to go to work. I wanted to get up in the morning and make you breakfast and then crawl back into bed with you and eat in bed while we watched the morning news together. I wanted to sit and watch you read the morning newspapers, watching your facial expressions change as you skipped from story to story. You’re so intense when you read anything,” Jaylene squeezed Penelope’s hand.

Penelope had no idea that Jaylene had studied her so closely.

“But if I did that. If I stopped working. If I’d stayed in your bed. I would have sacrificed my independence. I’ve been dependent on people all my life and they have all hurt me or abandoned me,” Jaylene shivered with emotion.

Penelope could hardly believe that the woman that she had only just come to love was pouring her heart out to her in this cold chrome and steel cathedral of a room.

“I promise I won’t abandon you, that I won’t hurt you,” Penelope whispered.

“Says the woman with two failed marriages and a string of jilted lovers,” Jaylene said coldly.

Penelope snatched back her hands.

“There’s more,” Penelope’s voice was cold; almost stern.

“I think… we think… that the killer took this woman by mistake. We think he wanted you,” Penelope said.

“Me? Why would he want me?” Jaylene looked nervously around the cafeteria.

“Because you are the only person who can identify him,” Penelope said sombrely.

“The composite! How does he know it’s me? I only saw him for a few seconds on Bridge Street and he waved me away and took Loretta instead. And now you’re telling me that he came back for me and took someone else by mistake? It makes no sense,” Jaylene shook her head slowly.

“The woman. Pauline Sanders. She was taken in Bolen Alley. Am I right in guessing that you use Bolen Alley as a shortcut to get to Bridge Street?” Penelope asked.

Jaylene nodded dourly.

“Pauline Sanders lived a few doors down from you. In the dark… from a distance… she looks like you. Fuck! She looks a lot like you up close,” Penelope said coolly.

“That doesn’t explain how he knows that it’s me who can identify him. Has he been stalking me? Following me?” Jaylene shivered violently.

“The honest answer is I don’t know. What I do know is that it takes a lot of time and resources to follow someone. When we do it we have two teams in twelve hour shifts. We’re talking about one man,” Penelope explained.

“A psychopath,” Jaylene countered.

“Yes, a psychopath. He can’t follow you twenty-four seven but he has followed you. He must know where you live. He obviously knows where you work,” Penelope regretted saying that last sentence as soon as it left her lips.

Jaylene bristled.

“Steve Edwards is waiting in the car outside. I want you to come with us to your place and pack up some essentials. I’ll relocate you to my place temporarily until I can get a safe house organised,” Penelope started digging in her handbag for her phone.

“What if I say no? What about my studies? Can I still go to school? How am I going to earn?” the questions tumbled from Jaylene lips.

“Let me get you safe first. We’ll arrange something with the college; maybe get you an undercover escort?” Penelope countered.

“A bodyguard?” Jaylene sounded incredulous.

“Maybe. Someone to keep you safe until I catch this guy,” Penelope began to write a text.

Jaylene reached out stopped Penelope from texting and looked at her tersely.

“And how am I going to live in the meantime? How am I going to earn money?” her voice was cold.

“We will work something out. I… we need to get you safe first and then we can work out the rest,” Penelope went back to texting.

Jaylene leaned back in her chair and thought about the situation. It was no use dying in a ditch if the outcome was that she literally died in a ditch.

“So your place at first. Then a safe house. And I get to continue to study for my degree,” Jaylene sounded resigned.

“Yes. It will take me a little time to organise a safe house and security for you,” Penelope replied.

Jaylene began to pack away her laptop and gather her course notes and Penelope sent her text.

The ride to Jaylene’s apartment was conducted in silence. Steve was glad that he was driving so he had something to pay attention to because you could cut the tension in the car with a knife.

Steve followed Jaylene into her apartment and helped her pack and brought her suitcases back to the car while Penelope stayed in the car working her phone and her tablet, silently fuming.

“I need to go by the workshop,” Jaylene announced.

Jaylene and a couple of other women studying fashion design rented a small workspace where they worked on their projects. Penelope hadn't been there but Jaylene had told her about it.

“When we get you settled in the safe house we’ll take you there to pick up any materials you need for your course but for now let’s just get you settled,” Penelope countered.

Jaylene leaned back into the seat and crossed her arms and silently fumed as they drove the rest of the way.

“You know where everything is,” Penelope said when she had Jaylene settled in her house.

Steve had helped carry the bags inside and beat a hasty retreat back to the car.

“Can I have a key?” Jaylene asked.

“Jaylene, I need for you to stay inside for now. It’s almost impossible that the killer knows where you are and highly unlikely that he will come after you again but I want you safe. Please just stay inside and keep the place locked up until I can get you to a safe house,” Penelope pleaded.

“I’m your prisoner,” Jaylene snapped.

Penelope sighed with frustration and wiped away a tear. She stood in the centre of the room looking forlorn.

Jaylene stepped into her and put her arms around her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean all the nasty things I said. I know that you are doing your best to keep me safe. I act out when I’m not in control. It’s a defence mechanism I’ve developed over the years,” Jaylene whispered and held Penelope close.

“It’s ok. I understand,” Penelope sighed.

“You shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve seen it before,” Jaylene stroked Penelope’s hair.

“Really? When?” Penelope looked at her quizzically.

“When I left your house when you asked me stay,” Jaylene smiled.

Penelope furrowed her brow and looked at Jaylene curiously.

“I left because I was losing control. I was ok when I knew you as a cop who occasionally came to me looking for information. Then you started making me trust you and made me fall in love with you and if I love you then I’m no longer in control,” Jaylene kissed Penelope softly on the lips and then eased out of her embrace.

“Go! Catch bad guys. I’ll get set up in the spare bedroom, I have work to do,” Jaylene snatched up one of her suitcases and walked down the hall towards the spare bedroom.

*****

“Are you fucking crazy Bishop! And you! You’re in on this too! You're supposed to be in charge Steve!” Gary Rasmussen was dressing down Penelope Bishop and Steve Edwards in his office.

“You come to me with some half-baked theory that the killer really wanted to kill this trans hooker but took another woman by mistake.”

“It’s just conjecture; there’s no real evidence to support your hypothesis,” he fumed.

“Need I remind you too assholes that you leaked the composite picture and the story about the killer into the general population when I told you only send it other law enforcement agencies and to keep a fucking lid on it!” Gary was furious.

“It’s your fault that we had the press gang out at the gas station hanging around like vultures waiting to feed off the carrion. If your story has any truth to it then it’s your fault that this guy went after Ms Foster and took Pauline Sanders by mistake,” Gary waved his finger at the both of them.

“No fuckin’ safe house! No fuckin’ bodyguards! I don’t have the budget or the justification,” Gary fumed.

“What else you got?” Gary calmed down and sat down behind his desk and indicated for them to sit.

“The fingerprints at the Texaco match the other two crime scenes, we’re waiting on DNA. The pantyhose used to strangle Pauline Sanders are L'eggs Everyday Regular just like the others. The MO is similar; the signatures the same. He even stole the Toyota from Forest Gardens just down the street from where he stole the BMW. It’s him Chief,” Steve said grimly.

“The ME has formally identified Pauline Sanders. Denton PD found Pauline’s NOK and they identified her from photographs. The father is flying into Balwyn to make funeral arrangements when the body is released. We found Sanders’ purse in Bolen Alley. Alice Leasingham and another CSI tech are at her apartment but they haven’t found anything that helps us,” Steve continued.

“After you and Penelope made your statement to the media the phones started running hot. The usual lunatics trying to take credit for crimes they know nothing about. A couple of leads that won’t go anywhere. Lots of assholes with grudges identifying their next door neighbours and ex-boyfriends from the identikit,” Steve summed up the situation.

“We’ll follow the leads, conduct interviews, ramp up the police presence around the Bridge Street free zone,” Penelope added.

“You don’t use the term free zone anywhere near the media,” Gary said gruffly.

“What about Jaylene?” Penelope asked.

“You have her in a safe place. Just make sure that nothing happens to her like it did to Melissa Doyle,” Gary wagged a finger at Penelope.

“That was uncalled for Chief,” Penelope bristled.

“Get out of here and catch this guy,” Gary dismissed them

When Penelope got to the door he called her back into his office. He looked her up and down studying her closely.

“You look good Bishop: smart, alert, impassioned, sober. Heard you haven’t been around The Longhorn for a while. That hotshot Ellery Gamble just transferred out to the Highway Patrol. Good riddance I say. I don’t know what you’re doing but keep doing it. Maybe I’ll keep you on the Task Force when this is over,” Gary said.

“Thanks Chief,” Penelope blushed.

“Keep that girl safe Bishop. I mean it,” Gary said solemnly.

“I will Chief,” Penelope flushed deeper, her cheeks rosaceous.

*****

Steve, Penelope and Alice worked the case. Steve and Penelope chased down leads while Alice reviewed the crime scene information and sent an evidence pack to the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit and asked for a criminal profile to be created. Now that they had a serial killer on their hands they could enlist assistance from the FBI. Penelope’s soon to be ex-husband Bradley Wilson still worked out of the field office in Austin and Penelope had made it clear that she did not want him working the case.

After work Steve went to Ride em’ Cowgirl to catch a show and catch up with Jill Graham and the queens. Since he had taken up with Felicity Benson and fallen out with Steve Randal his social circles had changed dramatically. He no longer hung around with other cops after work; he preferred the company of Felicity’s circle of friends.

Jill was working the bar. The waiters on Thursday nights were twinks dressed in black hotpants with red suspenders, white tank-tops and Doc Martin boots to cater to the gay clientele. Jill was similarly dressed in black hotpants with a white tank-tops and black high heels. The tank-top showed off her tattooed arms and shoulders and her tits. The hotpants showed a lot of leg. She was wearing glossy flesh-toned pantyhose and Steve was taking an eyeful of her ass as he sat at the bar watching her. She was bent over with her back to him, struggling to take a six-pack of Vodka Cruisers from the under-shelf built-in fridge.

When she stood up and turned around Jill saw Steve and blushed.

“You get a good eyeful asshole?” she smirked at him.

“No. Do it again but this time take a while longer,” Steve smiled back at her.

“What would Felicity say if I told her you were ogling my ass and flirting with me?” she placed a Lone Star on the bar before him and turned to pour him a shot of JD.

“She doesn’t mind where I get my appetite so long as I eat at home,” Steve smirked, appreciatively looking at Jill’s long legs as she poured his drink.

Just then his phone buzzed with an incoming text message. Expecting it to be work he reluctantly read the text and was surprised to find it was from Wendy Beaumont. He typed a response and then sipped his drink and continued his small talk with Jill Graham.

“You see much of Mitch Freeman lately?” Jill asked.

“Not really but I’m not his keeper; he works for Felicity not for me,” Steve replied.

“He’s taken a few days off here and there is the only reason I asked,” Jill commented.

“While the cat’s away and all that,” Steve grinned.

“He usually makes some excuse to watch the girls rehearsing, especially their dance numbers. Ain’t like him to miss a free show,” Jill continued, only really half interested in the conversation.

“Is he sweet on one of them? I can’t say I’ve noticed is all,” Steve replied just as disinterestedly, checking his messages repeatedly.

“Never took him for a tranny chaser. Seems too straight-laced,” Steve smiled when he read an incoming text.

“Who knows what the fuck you men get up to? I know he keeps a wanking stocking in his desk drawer,” Jill said offhandedly, causing Steve to choke on his beer.

“Fuck Jill. I’d never let Felicity look in the drawers of my work desk. A man’s gotta have some secrets,” Steve said once he’d swallowed his beer.

“Be right back,” Steve went to the front door and spoke to the security guy briefly.

The door opened and Wendy Beaumont entered. She kissed Steve chastely on the cheek knowing that this was not the time or the place to show open expressions of affection.

Steve thanked the security guy and led Wendy into the club and over to the bar.

“Jill this is Wendy; Wendy this is Jill,” Steve made the introductions.

The women looked each other over critically like only women can, looking for flaws and making comparisons. Jill was impressed with Wendy Beaumont’s eclectic style. She was wearing a simple black cocktail dress which in Jill’s opinion was little too short and showed a little too much cleavage. The irony was not lost of her that she was wearing hotpants and a tank-top but that was a prescribed uniform.

Wendy's face was surrounded by a shock of red hair, her bangs came down over her wide blue eyes, her nose was a little too big and crooked, and her pale skin was sprinkled with freckles, her lips were full, emphasised by her bright red lipstick. She was putting a lot of stress on her cocktail dress, it was close to bursting at the seams because Wendy was wide hipped and broad shouldered. She was a big girl with long legs. Thank god for lycra Jill thought, feeling a little bitchy.

Jill thought that she had won the staredown and of course Wendy thought she had.

“Wendy was April Showers’ best friend. They lived together,” Steve explained.

“Sorry for your loss,” Jill said and was immediately sympathetic to the woman.

“What can I get you Wendy?” she asked.

“Scotch neat please,” Wendy gave her a beatific smile.

“Wendy’s having trouble sleeping with all the commotion about the serial killer so I invited here to check out a late show. Have one of the waiters bring our drinks over to my table please Jill,” Steve said and directed Wendy through the crowd to his reserved table at the back of the club.

Jill knew that when men explained too much they were up to no good. She wondered what Felicity would think of Steve bringing Wendy to the club.

“Well… while the cat’s away I suppose,” she said to herself and began to fill drink orders.

Steve deliberately did not sit too close to Wendy. He’d fucked her in the bed he shared with Felicity which was an act of betrayal even though he and Felicity were not exclusive when she was away. Flirting with Wendy in the club would be another act of betrayal and Felicity would find out because if drag queens liked to do anything it was gossip and kiki.

“I’ve seen April perform of course but the places she worked were nothing like this. The production value here is amazing; the queens are incredibly talented,” Wendy said as they watched the performance.

“April must have been just as good otherwise Felicity would not have invited her to perform,” Steve replied.

“I miss her. I hope you catch that guy soon; I can’t believe he’s taken three victims,” Wendy sighed.

The news had been hot with the story, the reporters trying their best to get the specific details of the murders. ‘If it bleeds; it leads’ was their mantra. The press were calling the perp ‘The Honey-Trap Killer’ because they believed he had gaslighted all the women. They were either too stupid or just didn’t care that they were using the term honey-trap out of context. The press focussed on the fact that all the women were prostitutes so they assumed he had solicited them and lured them to their deaths.

“Anyway, the queens are amazing and those costumes! My god they are brilliant, I’d die to be able to wear clothes like that,” Wendy gushed.

“Who makes them?” she asked.

“Some of the queens can sew but most have designers who make them. Panti Down is in charge of costumes for the big production numbers,” Steve pointed to Panti on the stage.

They had a couple more drinks and over the course of the evening Wendy edged her seat closer to Steve and was eventually close enough that she could put her hand on his cock under the table.

“Take me home and fuck me,” she whispered in his ear and then nibbled his earlobe.

“I can’t take you back to my place,” Steve breathed.

“Then come back to mine,” Wendy squeezed his growing erection.

Wendy stayed glued to him in the car, if it wasn't for the centre console she would have been in his lap. She kissed his face and stroked his cock and put his hand under her dress and mewed when he stroked her thighs. They pawed at each other as they entered the converted red brick townhouse in Slattery Park.

Wendy half dragged Steve to her little bedroom; she was so horny that she didn’t even bother to close the door. Not that it mattered anymore, April no longer lived there.

Wendy pulled Steve down on the bed and pounced on him; straddling him. Her hair fell around his face as she kissed him passionately. She rubbed her crotch on his hard cock and mewed and then she began to frantically undress. She struggled out of the tight fitting cocktail dress and Steve reached up and unclasped her brassiere releasing her pendulous breasts.

She lowered her face to his and kissed him again while Steve stroked her soft creamy bosom, her huge nipples became engorged as Steve tweaked and twisted them.

“Let me get undressed,” Steve gasped under the weight of the big woman.

Wendy refused to budge; she worked her hand into his crotch and unzipped him, freeing his erection.

She was wearing flimsy lycra full-cut panties, almost granny-panties which wouldn’t show any VPL under her tight dress. Wendy pressed his cock into her cunt and he could feel the folds of her sex through the sodden fabric.

Wendy eased the crotch of her panties aside and slipped Steve’s cock inside her sodden minge. Steve could smell her sex; she was hot and wet and her vagina gripped his cock like a slippery, satin glove. She hardly moved, just grinding her crotch into his so that his pubis pressed on her clitoris.

She kissed him harder, driving her tongue into his mouth to stifle her moans. Steve thrust upwards, driving his cock deep into her warm, moist cunt, feeling her vagina clutch at his phallus and the folds of her labia press on the base of his throbbing cock.

Wendy broke the kiss and leaned back, bucking and rocking on his hard penis, using his manhood to elicit her orgasm. She howled and screeched and drove her heels into his flanks and put her hands on his shoulders so she could ride him to an earth shattering climax.

Steve’s cock quivered and pulsed as he ejaculated deep inside her cunt which undulated and quivered as Wendy milked every last drop of semen from his sac.

She fell on him and kissed him and he held her close, relishing the feel of her big soft breasts on his chest and her sloppy cunt still quivering around his hard pole.

When Wendy finally had her breathing under control and the last vestiges of her climax had receded she dismounted.

“You can get undressed now,” she grinned at him sheepishly.

They both got naked and climbed back into bed and this time they took their time making love, slowly building to a crescendo of pleasure. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning Steve lay beside Wendy in bed drinking coffee while she lay on her back blowing smoke at the ceiling. He felt like a heel because he kept looking at the time calculating how long he needed to get back to his apartment, take a shower, get changed and get to work.

“I thought the lease didn’t allow you to smoke in the apartment,” Steve said.

“Fuck the lease; I’m moving anyway. I can’t stay here. I’ve rented a shopfront for my IT business and it has a small one-bedroom apartment upstairs,” Wendy lit another cigarette off the butt of the one she had just smoked.

Steve could see across the hall into April’s bedroom. The mannequin had made him jump when he first saw it in the shadows; it was draped in a red satin evening gown studded with Swarovski crystals. For a second or two it looked lifelike. He saw the sewing machine sitting forlornly in the corner. The owner of the mannequin and sewing machine would never return and it made Steve feel sad.

Steve thought about what Wendy had asked him last night about where drag queens get their clothes and he suddenly had an idea. He sprang out of bed and started to get dressed.

“How much will you take for mannequin, the sewing machine, the fabric… in fact everything in April’s bedroom?” Steve asked.

Wendy looked at him quizzically.

“You told me that April really has no NOK and I take it you can’t move all her stuff into your new apartment,” Steve answered the question she hadn't asked.

“You’re right. Truth is I want it gone. It constantly reminds me of April,” Wendy sighed.

“I’ll give you two thousand and I’ll have some guys pack it up and move it today,” Steve sounded excited.

“It’s not worth that much,” Wendy replied but Steve knew that she could use the money.

“I’ll cut a check and get the removalists to give it to you when they pick it up,” Steve bent down to tie his laces.

“Get them to take everything. All her drag, the shoes, the wigs the lot,” Wendy swivelled onto the edge of the bed.

“Ok, three thousand,” Steve stood up and reached for his coat.

“That’s too much,” Wendy said.

“Take the money,” Steve bent down and kissed her cheek.

“This is it, isn’t it?” she smiled forlornly.

“Yes. I can’t keep doing this,” Steve said honestly.

“Me neither. I have to move on with my life,” Wendy heaved a sigh.

“I told you that I just wanted comfort; that I didn’t want your babies. I don’t need your comfort any more. Thanks for everything Steve,” she leaned in and gave him one last long lingering kiss.

Steve drove home, showered, shaved and changed and made it to the Task Force office in time for the morning brief. He took Penelope aside after the brief and asked her to join him outside for a smoke.

“How’s Jaylene doing?” Steve asked.

“She’s pissed because there is no safe house for her to go to and no protective detail. She’s desperate to get back to college and continue her studies and she wants to go back on the street to work,” Penelope studied the end of her cigarette.

“I threatened to handcuff her to the bedroom door if she tried to leave my house,” Penelope huffed.

“Your bedroom door?” Steve raised his brows at her.

“So what Steve?” Penelope bristled.

“I don’t need a lecture on fucking a material witness. Melissa was never a thing, we were just fuck buddies. She was the one who went all Fatal Attraction. It’s different with Jaylene,” Penelope explained.

“Hey I’m not taking your inventory. Since you came on board the Task Force you’ve been sober and you’ve been a real asset. If Jaylene has anything to with steadying that ship then good on her,” Steve nodded sagely.

“Don’t be so sanctimonious Steve. I know you're fucking Wendy Beaumont. She creams her panties every time she sees you,” Penelope spat.

Steve blushed.

“Well that’s over. She’s moving on, which is why I wanted to talk to you. I have a proposal that might just work out for you and Jaylene. We just have to sell it to her,” Steve grinned.

“Ok. What you got cowboy?” Penelope asked.

Steve told Penelope his idea and between them they hatched a plan.

That afternoon Penelope picked up Jaylene and took her to Balwyn College where Penelope had made an appointment to see the Dean of the college of arts and sciences. Without going into too much detail Penelope explained that Jaylene was a material witness in the Honey-Trap Killer case and that she needed to remain in protective custody.

The Dean agreed that Jaylene could continue her courses online and submit her design projects when required, accompanied by a member of the Balwyn PD which would always be Penelope because Penelope was actually shading the truth about Jaylene being in protective custody.

“Ok, so we got that sorted out but how am I going to be able to make the garments I need to submit for my fashion design projects? You can’t spend all day at the workshop with me when I’m working on my pieces,” Jaylene was still sulking a little.

“I think I have that covered,” Penelope smiled when she saw Steve’s car and a removal truck parked in her driveway.

The truck backed out of the driveway just as Penelope arrived at her house. She parked the car and smiled at Jaylene who looked at her suspiciously.

“What the fuck is going on Penelope?” Jaylene asked.

“Come inside and see for yourself,” Penelope could hardly contain herself.

They went inside and heard a commotion coming from the spare bedroom. Steve was in his shirtsleeves whilst William Russell was ordering him around, telling him where to place various objects and trappings.

“Oh no darling… the light there is shocking. Move it over near the window,” William ordered as Steve pushed a sewing machine across the room.

In between giving orders William was flicking through Jaylene’s workbook.

Jaylene snatched the book out of William’s hands.

“Where did you get this?” Jaylene pressed the book against her bosom protectively.

The book contained all of Jaylene’s fashion concepts. The patterns and layouts were kept on computer but she hand-drew the designs herself.

“And what the fuck is this doing here?” Jaylene pointed to the mess in what had been her temporary bedroom.

“I bought out everything that belonged to April Showers and then had the delivery truck stop by the workshop and collect all your things,” Steve pointed to a second sewing machine and two other mannequins besides the stuff he had collected from April’s bedroom.

“And what the fuck do you propose I do with all this?” Jaylene asked angrily.

“Can you two take a chill pill pulleese!” William shrieked.

William snatched the sketchbook out of Jaylene’s grasp and waved it at her.

“Did you design all this?” he asked almost aggressively.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jaylene seethed and tried unsuccessfully to snatch her book back.

“I am Panti Down. The second best drag queen in Balwyn Texas but you may call me William when I’m out of drag,” William took a theatrical bow.

“So who the fuck are you again?” Jaylene was not impressed.

“I am Felicity Goodnight’s assistant. I help produce, choreograph and script the shows at Ride em’ Cowgirl. I’m also in charge of wardrobe. So let me ask you again, did you design the fashions in this workbook?” William tapped the book.

“Yes,” Jaylene replied, exasperated.

“Then I would like to sit down with you and discuss the possibility of you making some of these designs for my girls. They will need to be changed a little but they are more than adequate for what is required,” William sniffed.

Jaylene bristled but Steve quickly interjected.

“Err, ‘more than adequate’ is a compliment coming from Panti Down,” Steve explained.

“We will pay you for them of course. We pay top dollar for the right gowns,” William added.

“What the fuck Penelope?” Jaylene turned her ire on Penelope.

“Come with me!” Penelope dragged Jaylene into her bedroom and closed the door.

“You can continue your studies here and submit your work online and your designs in person with me accompanying you to the college as necessary. It was Steve’s idea that you design costumes for the drag queens at Ride em’ Cowgirl, he persuaded Panti to come and have a look at your work,” Penelope explained.

“You can’t work the streets. I don’t want you working the streets. This is what you want; to be a fashion designer. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Penelope was tearing up.

“So you are keeping me captive Penny,” Jaylene said coldly.

Penelope began to sob.

“I’m trying to help you. You can leave here as soon as we catch the killer. You don’t have to design anything if you don’t want to. I’ll tell Steve and William that you have turned down their offer,” Penelope took a tissue out of her purse to dry her eyes.

Jaylene wrapped Penelope in her arms and let her cry on her shoulder.

“I’m such a bitch. It’s that control thing again. Of course I’m going to work something out with Panti. Think I wanna keep selling my ass on the streets forever? She’s not going to fuck with my designs though,” Jaylene said determinedly.

Jaylene stormed back into the spare bedroom.

“Ok you can leave,” she pointed at Steve.

“You can make coffee,” she pointed at Penelope.

“And you can join me in the kitchen and we will discuss my designs and talk remuneration,” She pointed at William.

Steve was feeling pretty smug as he walked to his car when suddenly Jaylene came running after him. She put her arms around him and hugged and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for this,” she smiled at him.

“I got it wrong. You're not really an asshole. You're a nice guy masquerading as an asshole,” she kissed him quickly and skipped back to the house.

That night Jaylene had prepared dinner for them both when Penelope came home from work. Jaylene was deliberately dressed provactively in a sheer robe under which she wore diaphanous see-through nylon panties and a matching bra. Her legs were clad in black fully-fashioned stockings held in place by a red satin garter belt. She was wearing black high heel pumps and doused in exotic perfume.

“I made us dinner to thank you,” Jaylene smiled mischievously.

“It was Steve’s idea,” Penelope said, taking off her jacket and eyeing her lover appreciatively.

“Yes. But I can’t fuck Steve to thank him can I?” Jaylene smiled seductively and pulled Penelope into her arms.

“What about dinner?” Penelope whispered.

“Fuck dinner,” Jaylene muttered throatily as she put her hand under Penelope’s skirt.

She found Penelope hard inside her panties and pantyhose and squeezed her cock. Penelope eased her hand inside Jaylene’s robe and began to stroke her throbbing phallus through her nylon panties.

They kissed passionately as their lust intensified. Jaylene unzipped Penelope’s skirt and it pooled around her ankles.

“Let me take off my blouse,” Penelope said around crushed lips.

“Fuck your blouse. We can do that later,” Jaylene gasped and squeezed Penelope’s cock harder.

“At least let me take off my panties and hose,” Penelope sighed.

“Fuck your panties and hose,” Jaylene pressed Penelope against the dining table.

Jaylene swiped away the utensils clearing a space on the table and she lifted Penelope up and perched her ass on the edge of table.

“I forget how strong you are sometimes,” Penelope gasped.

“And now I'm going to fuck you,” Jaylene pushed Penelope down on the table and lifted her legs over her shoulders.

“Jaylene, what the fuck?” Penelope tried to lift herself up off the table but Jaylene held her down.

She ripped the crotch out of Penelope’s pantyhose and nudged the glans of her penis into Penelope’s sphincter.

Jaylene took a tube of KY jelly out of the pocket of her robe and drizzled the viscous fluid on her cock and then she drove it deep into Penelope’s anus.

“Oh my god!” Penelope gasped.

Jaylene pushed the tails of Penelope’s blouse out of the way and freed Penelope’s penis from her pantyhose and panties. She drizzled more KY jelly on Penelope’s hard cock.

“Watch my blouse!” Penelope shrieked.

“Fuck your blouse. Fuck you!” Jaylene giggled and held Penelope by the hips and began to fuck her hard and fast.

Penelope held onto the edge of the table while Jaylene fucked her so hard that her body shook. Jaylene’s cock thrust deep inside her anus and pressed on her prostate. She began to writhe with pleasure and when Jaylene began to squeeze and stroke her penis she moaned like a slattern.

Jaylene stroked Penelope’s thighs which she knew drove her crazy, alternately caressing her penis. Penelope's anus clutched at Jaylene’s penis and she could feel her orgasm building.

Jaylene grasped Penelope’s cock and frantically stroked it as she jackhammered her cock in and out Penelope’s tight ass.

Penelope screamed and her cock erupted. Fountains of hot semen erupted from her juddering penis and spattered on her belly and soaked into her blouse as Jaylene’s cock disgorged her seed deep in Penelope’s ass. Penelope lifted her ass off the table so that Jaylene could get every bit of her cock inside her anus. Penelope wriggled her buttocks and moaned while Jaylene continued to milk her quivering cock, extracting every scintilla of sperm.

Jaylene lowered Penelope’s legs and leaned down and kissed her lover as Penelope wrapped her legs around Jaylene and held her tight. Their clothes became messy with spilled semen but neither cared.

Jaylene lifted Penelope off the table, her cock still buried in Penelope’s anus. Penelope clung to her, wrapping her legs and arms around Jaylene to support her weight. She carried Penelope towards the bedroom.

“What about dinner?” Penelope smiled into Jaylene’s face.

“Dinner can wait. I want to make love to the woman I love; then we can eat,” Jaylene kissed Penelope and gently lowered her to the bed.

*****

Mitch Freeman took stock of the situation. He’d abducted, fucked and killed Pauline Sanders, mistaking her for Jaylene Foster in the dark alley. Pauline had been fun… a diversion but she wasn’t one of his special girls and while she had sated his lust she hadn't satisfied his compulsion.

He lay low, beavering away at Ride em’ Cowgirl and staked out Jaylene’s flat when he wasn’t working. Jaylene had gone to ground and was no longer living there nor was she active on social media. He’d staked out Balwyn college but she wasn’t attending her classes either. He considered asking her tutor about her but it might raise suspicion.

Mitch checked the tax records and found that Jaylene was still listed on the lease. Had the cops figured out that he’d mistaken Pauline for Jaylene? No. They weren't that smart surely? But they did know that there was a serial killer active and that Jaylene was the only person that could identify him? He bet they had her stashed in a safe house somewhere.

In his basement studio office Mitch reviewed everything that was available online about the Honey-Trap Killer and his victims. He scoffed at the media for giving him such a stupid name that made no sense. He’d desperately like to grill Steve Edwards to find out how the Balwyn PD was progressing with their investigations but he had to be careful.

Steve and he were hardly best friends and Mitch needed to keep things cool. He didn’t want to leave his job. He liked watching the drag queens, being near them, smelling their perfume, listening to them titter in their false falsetto. Staring at their long legs encased in tights and pantyhose, staring at their perfect luscious pubises. Those perfect V-shaped pudenda that reminded him of his mother’s panty-clad mound and of Susan’s… his first love Susan, she who had betrayed him.

Like all the tranny whores did! They deceived him, betrayed him.

It was Texas’s own drag star Alyssa Edwards who had coined the phrase ‘sitting on a secret’ and all those pretty girls: the ones who worked the drag clubs, the ones who worked the streets, the ones who just liked to dress up pretty and hang out around the bars on Bridge street…all the pretty girls… all they had to do was keep their secret. But they never could. And their secret disgusted him.

Deep down Mitch knew that it was disgust for himself; his self-loathing, that made him what he was. His incestuous relationship with his mother which he transferred to his illicit relationship with Susan, which in turn led to his fascination and addiction to female impersonators and trans women.

Steve wondered what to do next. Pursuing Jaylene was dangerous. Taking any more special girls in Balwyn was dangerous. They had been warned. They had been told that a killer was stalking them. The identikit composite was a joke but it looked a little like him. No one was going to recognise him walking the streets but if he was to approach one his special girls she might become suspicious of him, compare him to the composite.

He could work the same online scam he had worked with April Summers but that was tedious. Taking Loretta off the streets had been better. Even taking Pauline Sanders had been exciting. Seeing the fear on her face. Making her bargain for her life. She pretending to be his mother before he fucked her and killed her; that was nice.

Mitch had one more card to play. One last place he had scouted for a rainy day. He would take one more girl in Balwyn and then he would disappear without a trace.

Mitch would be Balwyn's Jack the Ripper or Keyser Söze; terrorising Balwyn… ‘and like that... he's gone’.

Mitch believed he had covered his tracks perfectly. His last posting in the Army had been in the Personnel Division at Fort Bragg. He had altered his Official Military Personnel File and his medical records, removing and replacing his fingerprints with another officer's. They would never find him! He could do it all again somewhere else! But first maybe take one more here in Balwyn.

He smiled to himself. Yes… just one more. Then he’d stop hunting in Balwyn. He’d still get to watch the girls at Ride em’ Cowgirl and when they escalated his lustful fantasies to the point that he would have to do something about it but he would do it elsewhere, in one of the bigger cities.

The abandoned warehouse north of Balwyn was perfect. It was located on the edge of a forest and had been used to store rough-cut raw timber prior to distribution to smaller retail lumber yards. It was almost isolated, located one mile down a gravel road off the highway. In the office at the back of the warehouse Mitch had found a metal-framed bed. The windows in the office were boarded up and he had locked it with a length of chain and a padlock identical to the ones he’d used at the Texaco gas station, purchased on the same day at the same Home Depot.

Mitch had stolen a nondescript Honda Civic and parked it in the warehouse and brought in a new mattress and bedding and the other accoutrements he’d need to make himself comfortable whilst he entertained himself. He’d even placed a pair of the L'eggs Everyday Regular pantyhose under the pillow so they would be handy. There were now four pairs remaining in the package. He would use them all eventually but not in Balwyn.

Now all he needed now was for someone to join him at the warehouse. One last hurrah.

His cock was hard thinking about it and he took a stocking from the package he kept in drawer and searched his favourites on Google Chrome until he found something suitable to fuel his fantasies while he relieved himself.

*****

Steve Edwards and Penelope Bishop continued to beaver away. They interviewed the girls working Bridge Street and they followed up on leads that came in on the tip-line. Alice Leasingham worked the forensics. She had insurmountable proof that the same man had killed April Summers, Leroy ‘Loretta’ Dubbin and Pauline Sanders. The DNA and the fingerprints found at all three crime scenes were a perfect match. The same brand of L'eggs Everyday Regular pantyhose had been used to murder all three victims and the MO and signatures were almost identical. The single irregularity being that Pauline Sanders was a cis woman but she was still a sex worker.

The probability that hers was case of mistaken identity was a close-kept secret.

Jaylene Forster had settled into a routine. She was happy living at Penelope’s house and didn’t really miss her freedom. She was too busy submitting her course notes and working on her fashion designs. Panti Down was a regular visitor who worked alongside Jaylene putting together the costume designs for the next big production at Ride em’ Cowgirl. Jaylene submitted the same designs for her final exam for her Bachelor’s degree.

Jaylene needed to construct three different costumes changes to be worn by the four queens during the new big budget production. She had finished the prototypes and constructed and tailored them using Panti Down as her model. Penelope agreed to accompany Jaylene to Ride em’ Cowgirl so she could put a final fitting on Panti who would get into full drag and model the costumes on the main stage. The other three queens performing in the production would be present to see the costumes under stage lighting.

Final approval would come from Felicity Benson who was nearing the end of her tour. Felicity had approved the initial designs and had been liaising with Panti via email and Skype.

Mitch Freeman had been too busy catfishing a young trans prostitute who had been advertised her wares online and keeping up with his day job to pay too much attention to what was happening on the theatrical side of the house. He’d approved the purchases and made the appropriate payments for the forthcoming production because that was all part of his job but the everyday minutiae of the production lay in the hands of William Russell and her alter ego Panti Down.

He was totally unaware that Jaylene Foster was coming to the club with Penelope Bishop for a costume fitting and catwalk with Panti and the other queens. He was working in his office with the door locked arranging to meet the unsuspecting trans prostitute blissfully ignorant that the only person who could identify him as the Honey-Trap Killer was only yards away from where he was sitting.

Penelope had work to do and as much as she would have loved to stick around to see the final fitting and stage modelling she had to leave Jaylene at the club knowing she would be safe in the company of Panti Down and the other queens. She was walking back to her car while inside the club Jaylene had asked for and been given directions to the ladies room.

At the same time Mitch had made his final arrangements with his online paramour and she had agreed to meet him outside a Starbucks in Balwyn. Mitch would have his go-bag ready in the Honda Civic so that he could take the unsuspecting young woman to the abandoned warehouse where he would do to her the things he needed to do to satisfy his needs.

He was excited at the prospect and used the wanking stocking he kept in his desk drawer to relieve himself. After which he needed to take a leak and wash his hands.

Jaylene was coming out of the ladies room just as Mitch was about to enter adjacent men's convenience.

They both looked at each other in shock and awe.

Mitch might have had a dad-body but he was still proficient in self-defence and he was lightning fast. He punched Jaylene Foster in the face so hard that she saw stars and was unable to cry out. He hit her again and she fell to the floor unconscious.

Mitch dragged Jaylene into the men’s toilet and put her in one of the stalls. Beside the lighting tech he was the only one presenting as male in the club so it was unlikely she’d be found any time soon.

He briefly considered dragging Jaylene back to his office and making her pay for ruining his life but that would be suicide; he just didn’t have enough time. He’d always knew the day would come when he would either get caught or have to run for it; he just didn’t expect it would come so soon. It was time to activate his escape plan. He’d drive to the warehouse and swap his car for the Honda Civic and then drive to Austin to the storage locker and begin a new life far away from Balwyn Texas.

Mitch ran back to his office and grabbed the .44 Ruger Blackhawk he kept in a lockbox in his office safe. He took the rear entrance out of the club into the car park and was surprised to see Penelope Bishop leaning against her car talking on the phone. She was parked in the space next to his.

How convenient. One of the bitches who was responsible for fucking up his life and she just happened to be a transgender woman. She was a little older than he liked them but she would do.

Penelope had met Mitch Freeman before and she knew that he worked at the club. She put away her phone and smiled at him as he approached.

“Detective Bishop,” Mitch returned the smile and continued to walk towards her purposefully.

“What can I do for you Mitch?” Penelope asked.

Penelope and Mitch were between the two cars so when Mitch drew the Ruger and pointed it at Penelope’s belly no one could see. Not that there was anyone in the deserted car park to see anything.

Penelope made to reach for the pancake holster on her waist but Mitch cocked his weapon and pressed it into her belly.

“Don’t do that Penny,” Mitch said levelly.

Penelope put her hands up.

“Don’t do that either Penny; I’m not stupid. What’s a passer-by going to think when he sees a woman with her hands up like that? Put your hands behind your back,” Mitch took a step back to keep a safe distance between them.

“Turn around and lean against your car,” Mitch said when she complied.

“I take it you have handcuffs on that little Batman belt?” Steve said sarcastically.

Penelope nodded.

“Then you know what to do,” he said.

Penelope fumbled her hand inside her jacket until she found the handcuffs attached to the belt looped through her skirt. Penelope took the handcuffs from their case and with a little difficulty Penelope was able to cuff her wrists behind her back. Mitch leaned against her and locked them tight. She could feel his erect penis pressing against her ass.

“Now we’re going to take a little drive and I’m going to have a little fun with you. You behave yourself and play nice and you might just get out of this alive,” Mitch stepped back from her and opened the front passenger door of his car.

Penelope knew two things right then. Mitch freeman was the Honey-Trap Killer and he was lying. He was never going to let her live.

*****

Steve Edwards’ phone began to chirp incessantly and would not be silenced. He pulled over immediately to look at the screen. It was as he suspected; the dispatcher had issued an ‘officer needs assistance’ alert. The location given was the address of Ride em’ Cowgirl.

Steve hit the lights and siren and called Gary Rasmussen on the hands free.

“Chief? What the fuck? Is it Penelope?” Steve barked when the Chief answered.

“She butt-dialled me. I don’t know if she did it on purpose or by accident but she’s been abducted. I only heard a few muffled words before the connection was lost. Her last 10-20 was your club; she’d just dropped off Jaylene Foster,” Gary explained.

Steve didn’t waste time correcting the Chief that it wasn’t his club.

“Alice Leasingham is attempting to trace and track Penelope’s phone,” Gary sounded worried.

“So what exactly did you hear?” Steve asked cutting off traffic as he made a left into the Ride em’ Cowgirl’s parking lot.

“It was muffled but it sounded like ‘play nice and I’ll let you live’ or something like that,” Gary replied, his voice full of concern.

“I can see her car. She’s not in it. Wait!” Steve said excitedly as the back door to club suddenly burst open and Panti Down waved frantically at him.

“I gotta go Chief. If Alice gets a trace get her to let me know immediately,” Steve said excitedly.

“There are more units inbound to your location. Call me on my cell if you get anything useful. I’ll be in the incident room,” Gary broke the connection.

A frantic Panti Down beat her hands on the hood of Steve’s car as he skidded to a stop.

“It’s Jaylene! Somebody assaulted her and she says it’s the killer but she’s not making sense. It can’t be Mitch Freeman can it? Well, because, well we’d know wouldn’t we and he’s not here but it couldn’t be him…” Panti was almost incoherent.

Steve got out of his car and raced inside followed by Panti Down who was having difficulty hobbling on her ridiculous high heels. Steve didn’t bother to stop and tell her to just take them off; she was obviously in shock.

Steve found Jaylene Foster lying on the couch in Felicity’s office. Jill Graham had her head in her lap and putting a cold compress on the contusions on Jaylene’s face.

“About time you showed up!” Jill huffed as Steve burst into the room.

Jaylene looked up at him, her eyes filled with fear and panic. She scrambled to sit up and Jill eventually let her.

“Tell me everything and tell me quick,” Steve was necessarily abrupt.

“I came out of the ladies and there right in front of me was the Honey-Trap Killer. I’m certain it was him. He hit me and I blacked out. That’s it,” Jaylene said, her breathing ragged.

“It was fucking Mitch Freeman! Can you fucking believe that? I always knew that guy was a creep!” Jill wailed.

Steve was hit by a jumble of emotions. The killer had been right under their noses! He and Mitch had worked together handing management of the club to each other. Mitch had been Felicity’s right hand man. She had trusted him! They had all trusted him!

“Did he say anything? Did anybody else see Mitch?” Steve asked both Jaylene and Jill.

Both women shook their heads.

“Jaylene… we think he’s got Penelope. We think he abducted her,” Steve said gravely.

“Noooo!” Jaylene sobbed and Jill held her tight.

“I’ll get her back! I’m going to get her back! You can count on it,” Steve left the room pulling out his phone.

He called Gary as he made his way to Mitch Freeman’s office.

When Gary answered he put Steve on speaker and Steve updated him, telling him that their witness had identified Mitch Freeman as the serial killer and that he was very likely the man who had abducted Penelope. He gave a description of Mitch and passed on the details of Mitch’s car as best he could remember. He promised to send a picture of Mitch Freeman asap.

“I’ll get the tags from DMV and put out a BOLO. I’ll send a crime scene unit out to the club and to his residence. You got anything else Steve?” Gary barked into the phone.

Steve could hear dispatchers in the background responding to Gary’s instructions.

“I don’t think this was planned; in fact I’m certain it wasn’t. I think Mitch panicked when he saw Jaylene. He knocked her out and made a run for it. I think running into Penelope was happenstance; if he wanted another victim why not take Jaylene?” Steve said as he entered Mitch’s office.

Gary just grunted into the phone.

“Mitch is smart and he’s been hiding right under our noses. He must have an escape plan. One thing’s for certain; he has a hostage and he’s not going to keep her much longer or she will become liability,” Steve began searching through Mitch’s desk looking for anything that might help.

“This isn’t Penny’s first rodeo Steve. That woman has been abducted twice before and came out of it alive and well,” Gary said by way of consolation.

“Yeah well the last time she came out of it alive. I wouldn’t say she came out well. No one except her and her psychiatrist knows what the Sleeping Beauty Killer did to her when he had her paralysed in his basement,” Steve had no need to extrapolate.

They both knew what Mitch Freeman was capable of.

“Any word on that trace?” Steve asked, turning out the drawers on Mitch Freeman's desk.

“Nothing. Her phone has stopped pinging,” Gary said with some finality.

Steve heard approaching sirens and hung up the phone.

A uniformed Sergeant entered the room and Steve briefed him and told him to set up a crime scene and to get a female officer to tend to Jaylene Foster and stay with her until further notice.

He could hear the commotion in the club as other officers arrived and began rounding up everyone so they could be interviewed. They were being loud and unnecessarily aggressive but one of their own had been taken and they were acting out.

Steve went out into the club with the Sergeant and settled things down. He herded all the police officers together.

“Ok I get it. One of our own officers had been abducted and we all want to do everything in our power to get her back but you treat these people with respect. No one here is guilty of a crime. They are all good people. Do your duty and do it well but remember you are here to serve and protect,” Steve growled at the assembled men and women in blue.

“Sergeant; take charge please,” Steve handed over to the Sergeant and went back to Mitch’s office.

The assembled drag queens and other club employees were once again impressed with Steve Edwards. He might be a cop but he was their cop.

Steve tried logging into Mitch’s computer but it was password protected. He wished that Alice was here to help; she was the tech guru. He started going back through the paperwork again looking for clues and feeling helpless.

*****

“That was very naughty,” Mitch Freeman tossed Penelope’s mobile phone out of the window.

Penelope had hit the dial button on her phone when she had reached for her handcuffs.

It was painful sitting in the bucket seat with her hands behind her back. Mitch had fastened the seatbelt around her and she had to lean forward slightly to keep the pressure off her hands. He had patted her down and taken her service weapon and found the phone. Her skirt had ridden up high on her legs and Mitch had softly caressed her thighs before pulling down her skirt to cover them.

“I don’t want to be distracted while I’m driving,” Mitch had patted her leg like he was patting a dog or a small child.

Penelope felt nauseated.

She had been in this position before and she knew that being antagonistic towards her captor would only make things worse. He was going to do what he was going to do, the best thing she could do was to be cooperative and wait for an opportunity to strike.

“I know what you’re thinking: I’ll be nice to the man until I can find a weakness or he lets his guard down. But I have no weaknesses and I’m not letting my guard down with you Penny. You’re a little older than I like them but you are pretty. I'm going to have so much fun with you before I let you go,” Mitch sniggered.

He was never letting her go and Penelope knew it.

They drove in silence until they arrived at the warehouse. Mitch had to get out of the car to open the big metal gates to the lumber yard and again to unlock the chain and open the sliding door on the warehouse. Both times he had waved his Ruger at Penelope and locked the doors to the car. The first time she had tried to get her hands to the door lock on the armrest but she couldn’t reach.

She took in the interior of the old warehouse. It smelled of sawdust and wood sap. The ceiling was high and dust motes floated in the air. She saw the older model Honda Civic parked in the corner. She figured rightly that it was Mitch’s getaway car and then she saw the office. She could see through the office door and when Mitch frogmarched her towards it she could see the bed. She knew what was coming.

*****

Alice had driven as fast as she could from Police Plaza to Ride em’ Cowgirl. She found Steve frantically going through files and stacks of paperwork looking for some clue as to where Mitch might have taken Penelope.

“Steve. Let me,” Alice said in a commanding voice.

Steve stood and let Alice sit in the office chair. She opened her briefcase and took out a USB and slammed it into the port on Mitch’s computer and tapped some keys on the keyboard.

“I’m in,” she stared fixedly at the screen.

“That was quick,” Steve was always marvelled by Alice’s abilities.

She just glanced at him quickly and then went back the screen and worked the keyboard.

“Most of this is just club financials and administration but he has a hidden folder. Why do idiots really think that hidden folders are actually hidden?” she hissed.

Steve knew that the question was rhetorical and remained silent.

“Here!” Alice pointed excitedly at the screen.

Steve leaned in so he could see.

A series of snapshots appeared on the screen. There were exteriors and interiors of the Park Services hut and the abandoned Texaco service station. There was another series of snapshots of what looked like an old warehouse surrounded by forest.

“What’s that?” Steve poked his finger at the screen.

“Let me do my thing,” Alice pushed his finger out the way and worked on the geo-tags and metadata attached to the photographs.

She punched the coordinates into Google Maps and then brought up the satellite picture overlay.

“Here!” she pointed at the screen excitedly.

Steve’s brain was working hard; he was thinking and predicting various scenarios and outcomes. He knew Mitch Freeman or as much as anyone could know him. He knew Mitch’s temperament and personality. He mentally compared what he knew about Mitch with the criminal profile that the FBI had provided to the Task Force.

He knew that Mitch was a numbers man. He worked on calculations. He worked the odds and percentages.

Steve also knew that this was likely to turn into a protracted siege. There would be trained hostage negotiators, SWAT teams standing by keen to kick ass, police psychologists providing input on their assessment of the perp’s mental state, and oversight from above wanting the standoff to end without anyone getting killed. There would be a strict chain of command imposed which prevented anyone from doing anything without half a dozen brass hats giving the go ahead.

Steve knew that the most likely outcome was that Mitch would drag out the siege as long as possible because having control of Penelope was that the only thing that would matter to him once he knew there was no escape. He doubted Mitch would surrender because he knew what awaited his type of criminal in the penal system. It would end badly.

Mitch had about 45 minutes lead. Steve figured Mitch would be arriving at the warehouse soon.

“Alice. I’m going to ask you to do something that is totally against the rules,” Steve looked at Alice gravely.

Alice swallowed and nodded.

*****

“Take off your jacket and make yourself comfortable,” Mitch had taken the handcuffs off Penelope and made her sit on the bed.

Penelope grimaced but she tried not to show any signs of fear or loathing. She needed to appear to be cooperating whilst she assessed the situation. The building was well off the main roads and had been abandoned for a while but it was still structurally intact. The warehouse was big and empty and the windows were grimy but still allowed light into the cavernous space. The office, at the rear of the warehouse would effectively become a redoubt if the police found them before Mitch had killed her and made his escape.

Despite knowing what was going to happen to her Penelope remained calm.

“Here. Have a drink,” Mitch kicked the crate containing bottled water, sanitary wipes, gel lubricant, liquid hand wash and sanitizer.

Penelope reached down and took one of the bottles of water. She unscrewed the cap and guzzled down half of it. The adrenaline surging through her body had made her thirsty. She finished the bottle and reached for another.

Mitch kicked the box out of reach.

“No I don’t think so. If you drink too much water you’re going to want to piss and I don’t want to see that and I can’t let you go on your own,” Mitch grinned at her.

Penelope picked up on what Mitch said and recalled the crime scenes. All of the women were displayed lewdly: on their backs, legs spread, skirts hiked up but they were all still wearing their panties. Some serial killers liked to display their victims in lewd poses but the women were usually nude. Had Mitch kept his victims dressed when he raped them? The evidence suggested he had. The semen was confined to the anus with other ejaculatory evidence on their clothing. They were certainly dressed when he displayed them.

“Why can’t I go pee?” Penelope asked.

“I told you that I don’t want to see that,” Mitch grunted.

“Is it because you don’t want to see my penis? You know I have one right?” Penelope goaded him.

Mitch cocked the Ruger and pointed it at her head.

“Enough conversation for now I think Penny. Lie down on the bed,” he stepped back and waved the gun at her.

Penelope did the calculations in her head. Mitch could fire at least one round into her before she got to him if she lunged. A .44 round wound would be instantly fatal if it hit her in any of her vitals and even if the wound was not lethal the ballistic trauma would debilitate her. It was a zero sum game.

She thought quickly. She was not one of Mitch’s intended victims, he had told her as much. The other girls were younger and except for Pauline Sanders, who was a case of mistaken identity, they had been lured to their deaths. In all the other instances he had used stolen vehicles but Mitch had used his own vehicle to abduct her. The Honda was the getaway car. He was going on the run.

It was happenstance that he had found Penelope outside the club. If he even suspected that he wasn’t safe here at the warehouse he would kill her immediately and leave. Penelope had to keep him here to give herself a chance. She had to hope that Steve would track her down. That the full force of the Balwyn PD would come to her rescue

Penelope lay down on the bed as she was told. She had to trust that Steve would find her.

“I promised you that I would let you go once we’ve had a little fun together and that is still my intention but if you don’t comply I will kill you,” Mitch began to undress, the Ruger close at hand.

Mitch approached the bed, his cock erect poking out in front of like the prow of a ship.

“Are you tucked?” he asked as he gazed down on her prone body.

Her face was pretty, framed by her long blonde hair, her makeup heavy just how he liked it. He wasn't a tit-man but her breasts straining against her white blouse were impressive. Her charcoal-grey skirt was cinched across her flat belly, the hem rested mid-thigh, her long legs were sheathed in glossy flesh-toned nylons her feet shod in low-heeled pumps.

The question threw Penelope and then she got it.

“I’m tucked but I’m not taped. It’s too uncomfortable to go all day taped,” she replied.

“Let’s see,” Mitch used the muzzle of the Ruger to slide Penelope’s skirt up her thighs until her pubis was exposed.

She was wearing white satin full-cut panties over her pantyhose. Her penis and scrotum were tucked along her perineum out of the way. Mitch was pleased to see the pleasant mound of her pubis swathed in the shiny satin V of her panties. A long string of clear viscous pre-ejaculate drizzled for the eye of his penis. Thoughts of escape and a new life elsewhere were replaced by feelings of lust and debauchery.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you it’s just that I don’t trust you,” Mitch giggled insanely.

“Put your hands through the bedframe please Penny,” he dangled the handcuffs in front of her face.

Penelope complied and her heart fell as Mitch closed the cuffs around her wrists, locking her hands to the bedhead.

“Now we can have some fun. A little foreplay before I fuck you I think,” Mitch giggled again.

There was no doubt in Penelope’s mind that he was insane.

Mitch put the gun on the crate next to the bed where he could reach it and then he climbed on the bed between Penelope spread legs. He pressed his penis on her satiny pubis and lay down on top of her. He held her close and nuzzled her neck, slowly moving his cock up and down on her panty-clad mound.

“You fucking tranny whore!” Mitch hissed as he ground himself against Penelope’s body.

Penelope closed her eyes and prayed.

*****

Steve saw Mitch’s car parked beside the Honda as he peeked around the door of the warehouse. He had parked his own car a half-mile down the road and walked in through the woods being as careful and quiet as he could. The gates to the lumber yard were open as were the doors to the warehouse. A new stainless steel chain with a padlock threaded through the links hung from door. This was the place!

Steve drew his weapon and entered the warehouse carefully and silently. He used the cars as cover. He could see the office at the back of the warehouse and could make out movement. He sneaked closer.

As Steve got closer he could hear Mitch shouting obscenities. He was repeatedly calling Penelope a tranny whore.

Mitch was so engrossed in doing what he was doing to Penelope that he never heard Steve as he tiptoed closer along the outer wall of the office.

Steve sprang into the doorway automatically adopting the Weaver stance; sighting his weapon downrange.

Mitch was between Penelope’s legs, her ankles over his shoulders, her buttocks raised. He’d torn open her pantyhose and pulled aside her panties so he could ravage her. Penelope was helpless, handcuffed to the bed and sobbing as Mitch used her for his pleasure. Penelope’s eyes were closed so she didn’t see Mitch reach for the L’eggs Everyday Regular pantyhose secreted under the pillows supporting her head.

Nor did she see Mitch’s head explode as Steve put two Winchester PDX1 9mm rounds into the back of his head. Mitch’s body fell sideways off the bed and Steve kicked his legs out of the way.

Penelope opened her eyes and looked up at Steve.

“I knew you would come,” she whispered.

Her mascara and eyeliner had run and her lipstick was smeared but Penelope didn’t show any fear.

Steve pulled down her skirt to give her some decorum and then looked for the keys to her handcuffs. He didn’t ask if she was ok; that would be pointless. He found the keys and unlocked the cuffs and eased Penelope into a sitting position.

“Can I have some water?” Penelope pointed to the crate with the bottled water in it.

Steve took a bottle of water, carefully not touching the Ruger which lay on the crate.

Penelope gulped it down sitting beside Steve on the bed.

“Don’t you dare pity me,” Penelope whispered through gritted teeth.

“Never,” Steve replied.

Steve was surprised when Penelope put her head on his shoulder and he put a comforting arm around her.

“They don’t need to know he raped you,” Steve murmured.

“My clothes are covered in his semen Steve,” Penelope sighed.

They heard the whirl of helicopter blades and sirens approaching in the distance.

“The cavalry are coming,” Penelope smiled wanly.

“This office is a crime scene. I’ll keep everyone out except Alice until you have been given the opportunity to change your clothes. Alice will take the clothes you are wearing and provide you with coveralls. I will ensure that your clothes are properly bagged and entered into the evidence logs. Alice will ensure that there is no evidence of semen recorded when she does the forensic examination,” Steve said, reaching for a bottle of water for himself.

“That’s a crime and a conspiracy,” Penelope lifted her head off Steve’s shoulder.

“It’s the decent thing to do. Alice and I are already involved in a conspiracy. Alice gave me half an hour head start before she told Gary where you were,” Steve took a sip of water.

The chopper was landing in the forecourt and the sirens were closer.

Penelope turned and looked Steve in the eyes.

“There really is a nice guy underneath that asshole exterior,” she leaned in and kissed the side of his mouth.

“I’ll bring Jaylene to you as soon as I can,” Steve stood up and holstered his weapon.

He went out the office door with his hands up displaying his detective’s shield just as the SWAT team burst through the warehouse door.

*****

The aftermath was controlled chaos. Everyone wanted to claim kudos for finding and eradicating the Honey-Trap Killer. Steve, Alice and Penelope let them.

Penelope was paraded before the cameras as the hostage who had bravely negotiated with the psycho killer until the police arrived. Steve was paraded as the first officer on scene who had been forced to kill Mitch Freeman when he reached for his Ruger.

But the brass took the glory and emphasised how they had coordinated the search and the demise of the Honey-Trap Killer. The FBI, SWAT and other agencies jumped on their coattails.

Behind the scenes Steve took a verbal beating for going rogue but there wasn’t much that could be done to him without exposing to the press what had really happened. Steve shielded Alice Leasingham and told Gary Rasmussen that he had bullied her into delaying telling the proper authorities where she suspected Mitch Freeman was holding Penelope Bishop.

Penelope was forced to spend twenty-four hours in hospital under observation even though she told the investigating officers, the police phycologists and anyone else who would listen that she hadn’t been sexually assaulted. Mitch Freeman was just about to rape her when Steve arrived on the scene and saved her.

Jaylene Foster refused to leave Penelope’s side once she had completed her debrief and slept beside her in the hospital bed.

Things had only just returned to normal when Felicity Benson’s flight arrived at Balwyn airport. She had flown direct from London to Austin and then taken a commuter flight to Balwyn. Steve arrived in a limo filled with flowers to meet her.

After a get-to-know-you canoodle on the back seat Steve poured them both champagne.

“Silvia Bickle was on the commuter flight. I hope you don’t mind; I invited her to our little soiree,” Felicity said.

“Silvia has been vacationing on a dude ranch. She wanted time alone, away from the modern world. No cell coverage, no internet, no daily new cycle. Just wide open spaces, starry skies and nature at its finest,” Steve said.

“I can think of nothing worse,” Felicity wrinkled her nose.

When the limo pulled up outside Ride em’ Cowgirl Felicity saw a sign on the door that read: ‘Closed For Private Function’. Steve was throwing her a welcome home party.

The club was decorated and a huge Welcome Home banner hung across the front of the stage. There were helium balloons, streamers and party favours. The club was packed.

Panti Down had the drag queens on stage ready to provide a preview performance of the new show. Drinks and snacks were being passed around by waiters dressed as cowboys instead of their usual hotpants and tank tops. Jill Graham was in control behind the bar.

Felicity surveyed the crowd and was surprised to see Penelope Bishop, Alice Leasingham and Gary Rasmussen present. Steve didn’t usually bring his work colleagues to the club. Penelope, Jaylene and Alice were huddled together in a little group away from everyone else and Steve guided Felicity over to them.

“You know Penelope and Alice from work. I’d like to you to meet Penelope’s friend Jaylene Foster,” Steve said by way of introduction.

Penelope had her arm around Jaylene and they were standing hip to hip. Felicity gave Steve a knowing look and Steve smiled at her.

“You’re our new costume designer. I’m looking forward to seeing your work. I have some ideas of my own that I’d like to discuss with you for my next tour,” Felicity smiled warmly at Jaylene.

The door opened and Silvia Bickle walked into the club. She was still dressed in her travelling clothes and had come directly from the airport. She made her way over to the group, a smile fixed to her face. She looked relaxed and refreshed.

“So… did anything exiting happen while I was away?” Silvia asked.

The End

Author’s Note Thank you for coming on this journey with me. My readers are the ones who inspire me to write; without you I have no one to tell my stories to. For those of you who have contacted me personally, thank you so much for your praise, encouragement and critiques. As always I invite you to leave comments or critiques and to grade my story as you see fit. Please leave me a little something to let me know you care.

xxx

Michele Nylons

September 2021