Bikini Beach: To Serve and Protect

by Tigger copyright 2000 

The Old Woman felt her many years more acutely than usual as
she came out of her office looking for her granddaughter. She
found Anya in her own office, talking on the phone. The Old
Woman settled herself stiffly into one of the accessory chairs
to wait while Anya concluded her call. 

"So, Jana, that's all you can tell me about this Lieutenant
Kowalchek?" there was a short pause as Anya listened and
waggled fingers at her Grandmother in greeting. "Well, I guess
we'll find out when he gets here. Thanks, dear." 

"Well," the Old Woman said with a weary smile, "the little I
heard of that conversation was certainly interesting. Since my
news is so sad, I will let you tell me yours first." 

"Mine isn't much better, Grandmother. All I know is that this
Lt. Alex Kowalchek called me just after I got in this morning.
Evidently, he is on some case and wants to talk with us about
it. I just called Jana to find out what she could tell me
about him." 

"What kind of case?" the Old Woman asked sharply. She was very
protective of her beloved creation and some type of criminal
investigation might call unwanted attention to the more. .
.well, magical aspects of her operation. 

Anya shrugged. "Jana didn't know anything about it, but that's
because she's working street patrol and Kowalchek is a
homicide detective. He was very careful not to give me any
details when he called - just said that he would very much
like to interview us at the earliest possible date. He hinted
it was very serious, but wouldn't say more." 

"I see. So, what did Jana tell you about Mr. Kowalchek." 

"Very, very good at what he does. . .something of a legend on
the force. Jana, or actually, it was Jake, went to the Police
Academy with him, so Jana knows a bit about him, although they
are no longer close. He's a widower, his wife and infant
daughter having been killed by a drug dealer a few years ago.
He left Narcotics and went into homicide, brought down the
creep who killed his family. He's thorough and meticulous -
evidently has never had a case thrown out due to
technicalities. The DA's office loves him, but some of the
other politicos and political hangers-on in our fair city feel
he's a loose cannon. Once he's on the scent, he doesn't quit,
which means he isn't very controllable. He broke that case
last year - the one that connected our esteemed mayor with
certain unsavory types." 

"Did Jana say anything about his ethics?" 

"Evidently truth and justice for the victims of crime,
particularly of violent crime, are his pantheon. According to
Jana, the murder of his family was a retaliatory killing.
Seems this scum was upset by the fact that Mr. Kowalchek was
too honest to be bribed and too good to be fooled." 

"Sounds like a formidable man, and we have no idea what he
wants with us?" 

"None." Anya sighed. "So, what is your bad news?" 

"Elaine Summers called this morning," the Old Woman said. "She
wanted to know if she could sell back her memberships." 

"Why?" Anya asked, shocked. "Her family LOVES coming here." 

Elaine had been one of the park's first members. She and her
family often spent weekends at the park. Anya particularly
liked the woman's affable, easygoing husband who could accept
and embrace a weekend of being his wife's best girlfriend
without rancor or embarrassment. She sometimes thought that
the girl who had given her prospective boyfriend a trial by
satin thanks to Bikini Beach had the right idea. 

"Her husband Thomas was killed - murdered on his way home from
work. What insurance they have will take care of the house for
her, but there won't be much left afterwards - and she's going
to 
need the money," the Old Woman said, tears now running freely
down her cheeks. 

"Oh, Grandmother, how awful! And he was such a wonderful man,
too." 

"Yes, he was." 

"What are you going to do about Elaine?" 

The Old Woman shrugged. "Give her the money until I can figure
out a way to get her back with us. I think she will need us in
the near future." 

"Can't we give her a job? She's wonderful with her little
girls, and the daycare center can always use one more loving
heart and an extra pair of caring hands?" 

A watery smile lit the Old Woman's face. "A wonderful notion,
dear. Let me think about how to approach her. She and her
family would have our excellent employee benefits, too, which
naturally include free memberships." The Old Woman beamed
proudly down at her granddaughter. So powerful, she thought,
and yet so loving, too. "You are a comfort to me, Anya." 

Anya was spared having to reply to that bit of unexpected
praise when her phone buzzed. She answered it, listened for a
moment and then told the receptionist, "Please show him into
my office." 

The door opened to admit a man in a dark grey suit. Anya
studied him for a moment, trying to read him and take his
measure. He wasn't tall, no more than five feet six or seven
inches, but with an unusually muscular frame for his height -
broad shouldered yet slim hipped. *Must spend a good deal of
time at the gym,* was her quick assessment. His hair was cut
short in an almost military crewcut. His face was ruggedly
masculine, almost harsh, with dark eyes that seemed to be
constantly moving. "Miss?. . . " he asked in a quiet, deep
voice as he held out his hand in greeting. 

"Oh, please call me Anya," she said, "And this is my
Grandmother. . " 

The Old Woman stood and offered her own hand, "I am known as
Mrs. Beach, young man." 

Anya liked the way he greeted her. His grip was firm, but not
crushing and his eyes met hers and stayed at eye level,
despite the fact that she was wearing her usually scanty beach
attire on her very shapely form. "I am Lieutenant Alex
Kowalchek, Anya, Mrs. Beach, from the city police department.
Thank you for seeing me so quickly." 

"You indicated your purpose here was of some importance,
Lieutenant," Anya said, "Please, sit down and tell us what we
can do to help you." 

He sat and then said baldly, "You can help me stop a serial
killer." 

Both women were taken aback by this, and it was the Old Woman
who recovered first. "A serial killer? I didn't know of any
serial killer in our area." 

"That is because the victims are all men and because the M.O.
has been different for each one. Both of those factors are
unusual in the extreme for such murderers. Serial killers are
thought to be more likely to go after women or children, and
usually have a recurring modes operandi that distinguishes
their crimes and the victims. However, I have found a
connection that leads me to suspect. . .actually, that has
convinced me, that there is one killer. 

"How many victims?" the Old Woman asked in a suddenly cold and
quiet voice. 

"Eight that I am sure of, Ma'am. Two more highly probable
ones, that I believe I can confirm today with your help.
However, to do that and then to stop him, I will need your
complete cooperation." 

"And what could we do, sir?" Anya asked, "We simply run a
beach park for women. What could we possibly do to assist you
in this?" 

"I have reason to believe that a killer is stalking people who
have come to your park," he paused at that and then fixed his
gaze on the Old Woman, "Men who have been here, transformed
into women, and then changed back." 

"What? Just what kind of establishment do you think we run
here, Lieutenant?" Anya snapped out, as sarcastically as she
could manage under the circumstances. "One of those make-over
parlors for men who like to dress up and look like women?" She
cast a worried glance at her Grandmother, who was quietly
staring at the Lieutenant, her eyes very intense. 

"Anya," Kowalcheck continued in a very soft, very gentle
voice. "I have had your place under surveillance now for two
weeks. I have seen men walk in, but no men walk out. Whatever
it is you do in here, it is not some type of kinky fetish game
because you have women with their children in here. And many
of the men are physically unsuited to being able to pass as
women anyway." 

"So, Lieutenant, you are saying you believe in magic?" the Old
Woman asked, her voice defiant. 

"I believe in facts, Ma'am," Alex replied firmly. "I have
facts which are as I just presented them to you. The answer
your lovely granddaughter just offered does not fit those
facts." 

"I see," the Old Woman replied. "So, tell me, Lieutenant, who
has died?" 

"Most recently, a man named Thomas Summers." Anya's gasp
interrupted him. "He was run off the road near here a week
ago. He died in the hospital two days later. I can give you a
list of those men I know were involved here as well as those
two who I think, for no other reason than that I have no good
motive for their murder, might have been victims." 

"May I see the list?" The Old Woman asked. Kowalchek passed
over a piece of paper drawn from his folio. Anya watched her
Grandmother scan the list and knew instantly when she began
recognizing names. Her eyes burning, she picked up a pencil
and began making checkmarks on the page. That done, she
stiffly handed the paper back. "The ones I have marked are . .
.were at 
one time or another. . . guests of the park. The other one, I
have to check our records, but the name is familiar." Her
voice broke for a moment, but only for a moment. "They. . they
are all dead?" 

Kowalchek nodded. "Very well," the Old Woman said, putting
aside her pain to be dealt with later in private, "How can I
help you?" 

"Just like that?" Kowalchek was surprised. 

"What did you expect me to do, Lieutenant? Prevaricate? Refuse
to cooperate with you? The men on your list were guests of
mine, sir, people with whom I shared a special gift. Some were
not the best of men, but they left here better men and none of
them deserved this fate - and most certainly not because they
simply spent a day or two at my park. Of course I will assist
you in any way that I can." 

"As will I," Anya put in firmly. 

"Well, I guess the first thing I need to do is find out what
you do here. Once I have that, I will need access to your
membership records. . " then suddenly, Alex stopped. He
sighed. "Ma'am?" 

"Oh, call me Grandmother," the Old Woman ordered, "like Anya
does." 

He grinned at the offer. The change that made in his stern
countenance was stunning, making him look years younger and
much more handsome. For just a moment, Anya wondered if it
were his responsibilities that so hardened his features, or if
the loss of his family might be more at fault. 

"Thank you," the Lieutenant said. "But you should know that
this isn't really a sanctioned investigation. As I said, the
brass doesn't agree that this is a serial killer and will not
be real pleased with me for pursuing this." 

"You've convinced me, Alexander," the Old Woman said, her tone
implying that was all that was necessary. "Now, Anya will show
you what you need to see. We haven't opened yet, so you can
also tour our other facilities. . .as you are." 

"No shower, Grandmother?" Anya was goggle eyed. 

"No. Just have him back here in the offices before we open. If
necessary, delay the opening until the Lieutenant has seen
what he feels he needs to see. Now, if you two will excuse me,
I have to interview a new employee." 

Alex rose and offered his hand to the Old Woman. "Thank you,
Ma' . . I mean, Grandmother." 

"Nicely done, Alexander," the Old Woman approved. "Now, run
along with Anya and find this person." 

"Well, you have no idea how much you rate, Lieutenant," Anya
said as she rose from her seat, "but perhaps you soon will.
Come along. I need to show you the outer facilities before we
open at eleven." 

~---------------~ 

It was afternoon tea time when Anya was again able to sit down
with her Grandmother. "So, how did Alexander react to your
explanations?" 

"That's really strange, Grandmother. He accepted them without
qualm. He's such a realist that I would have thought him to be
completely skeptical of magic." 

"Remember what he said, dear, about facts. There is a
difference between being a realist and a skeptic. Alexander
accepts the evidence of his eyes and brain. Did he see a
transformation?" 

"Yes. A father and son who came here to get away from
difficult situation at home. I sold them a day pass and
adjusted the magic so that they would be oblivious to the
changes and only remember the good time they had here." 

"Losing a mother is always difficult. That father is a good
one, though. The boy will be well cared for. You did well on
that one, Anya." 

"But the point is, Grandmother, that Alex believed before he
saw that." 

"And your point is?"  

"That type of man NEVER believes until he's wearing a bra and
going to the bathroom sitting down." 

"ANYA! Let's not be crude," the Old Woman reproved firmly
before continuing. "However, I take your point, and had I not
met him, I would have likely agreed with you. Alexander is a
special man." 

"Special? In what way, aside from his abject worship at the
altars of minutia, detail and fact?" 

"I am not sure precisely why, but when reality warps around
him, he still retains his memories of what was." 

"But how?" 

"As I said, I am not sure. There are a variety of possible
reasons. Perhaps, it is that very commitment to the truth and
to justice that forces him to use resources others may have,
but never call upon." 

Anya considered that, but then shrugged it aside. "I suppose.
I know that I have never encountered his like before,
Grandmother." 

"So, what is this plan you mentioned, my dear?" 

Anya shifted in her seat and became very uncomfortable. "I
don't like it, Grandmother," she said finally. 

"I gathered that from your aura, child. Precisely what is it
about Alexander's plan that you do not like?" 

"You might better ask me what part of it I DO like,
Grandmother," she replied taking in a deep breath to calm her
reservations. "First, he's going to go through our files and
look for possible suspects, although how he'll find them I
don't know." 

"Seems like a logical first step. Why should that bother you?
Do you think he will ultimately try to betray us in some way?"
"Oh, that's not an issue. He's already promised to keep our
secrets, so betraying us that way would be a lie, and thus a
sin against Truth with a capital 'T'. No, it is his alternate
plan I don't like. Assuming he cannot figure out who the
murderer is simply by checking our records, he hopes to find
some type of pattern to the murders that he can use to flush
out the killer." 

"And how does he think to do that, Anya?" the Old Woman asked,
fearing she already knew the answer. 

"He's planning to start coming here as a day-passer and try to
set himself up as a possible victim." 

"Oh." And there was a world of inference in that tone. "I
cannot say that I like that option either, my child, but I
doubt we could stop him, short of refusing him access to the
showers. He will do what he thinks must be done, I think, for
our Alexander is one of those who truly believes in the old
police motto of "To Serve and Protect." 

"Fine!" Anya snapped in exasperation. "But there is a
difference in doing your job, regardless of how dangerous it
might be and considering something that may be suicidal.
There's been enough killing already, Grandmother. He might be
next." 

"And he might not. We must let him do his job, dear, although
perhaps not without a little help from his friends." 

Anya looked up to see a familiar twinkle in her Grandmother's
eye. 

~------------~ 

Alex arrived after the park closed for the day to find Anya
waiting for him. "I've downloaded our membership records into
this PC," she told him indicating a machine set up on a table
in her office. So you can sort and filter and query to your
heart's content." 

"All your members?" Alex asked. 

Anya frowned, then sighed. "I was going to download only the
men and those who used to be men, but Grandmother stopped me."
The girl tossed her hair in some agitation. "Said something
about the female being deadlier than the male and that we
couldn't permit our feminist biases limit your investigation." 


"I want to help the ones you like, Anya, and to protect them,
but suppose this murderer is a woman and you didn't give me
access to those records? I don't think it is a woman, but just
suppose she killed again while I was chasing down false leads
because I didn't have all the facts?" 

"Help and protect," Anya said softly. "Odd you should say it
that way. Okay, let me show you how this works. I've given you
everything - home addresses, phone numbers, family members and
the dates they visited the park." 

"Excellent. When do I have to leave?" 

"You don't," Anya said. "I have decided to stay here until you
are ready to leave. Even moved a cot into the next room." 

"That's not necessary." 

"Yes, it is. There are magical defenses around here, wards we
call them. They're like invisible traps. We can't turn them
off for security reasons and you won't be safe here without
Grandmother or I to protect you from them." 

Alex wanted to argue, but thought better of it. "All right.
Let's get started." 

~--------------~ 

The sun was just creeping over the horizon when Anya awoke.
Quietly, she padded back into her office where she found Alex
asleep in his chair, a sheaf of papers clutched tightly in one
hand. She slipped from the room and went off to make coffee. 

The drip coffee maker had just begun it's final hissing growl
when Alex appeared at the door of the office complex's small
kitchenette. "That is mighty loud-smelling coffee you have
there, Anya," he said with a tired smile. 

"It's almost ready. How did it go last night? Find out
anything new?" 

He shook his head. "Not really, at least, not yet. Too much 
data and too little time to digest it. Although I must admit
that I was more than a little surprised by the names of some
of the men who have been here since the murders started." 

"True. Some have come once and then never returned again.
Others have bought lifetime memberships and thus remained
women." 

"Or little girls," Alex said his eyes instantly cold. "I was
rather astonished to discover that, as well." 

"Growing up female is a special dream for many men," Anya
replied. 

"Why don't I believe that is case - at least not always?" 

Anya regarded the man for several moments, then shrugged
diffidently. "If your suspicions are true, there's little you
can do about it." 

"DAMMIT!" Alex growled. "I have to trust you and that
Grandmother of yours, and you as much as tell me your ethics
and morality are so low as that?!?" 

"It isn't like that," Anya said quietly. "Sometimes the world
is a better, safer place if certain individuals. . . well,
cease to have ever lived." 

"Do you think your power gives you the right to be judge, jury
and executioner? To be law unto yourselves?" 

Anya poured the coffee and handed a cup to the very upset
police officer. "Is everything in your world so very black and
white, Alex? 

"There is such a thing as the law, and more importantly, right
and wrong. We have laws and courts where the facts decide
guilt or innocense and twelve good men and women, honest and
true, recommend punishment. That's the way it is supposed to
work." 

"And you believe that it does work that way?" 

"When I and my fellow cops do our job correctly, it DOES work
that way." 

"I almost expect you to say 'that is illogical,'" Anya said
with a grim smile, "Or tell me the probability of my
fallibility in such instances to three or four decimal
places."  Alexander's countenance lightened just a bit. 

"Only approximately," he corrected, "And my ears are not that
pointy. However, that is not the question here. You really see
nothing wrong with stripping a man's identity from him? You
realize that you are effectively killing that person?" 

"I don't know how to answer that question for you, Alex, in a
way that you could understand or accept. First, I don't kill
him, at least from my point of view, for his soul survives and
has a second chance to live a useful and productive life." She
took a sip of her own coffee. "But yes, sometimes we do assume
the role of judge and jury. Ever read Spider Man comic books,
Alex?" 

"What?" he asked, confused. "Spider Man? What the hell does
that have to do with anything?" 

"Did you?" Anya asked again, her eyes steady. 

"Okay, I'll play along. Yes, I read Spidey in my misspent
youth. So?" 

"With great power comes great responsibility," Anya quoted
softly. 

"That's a helluva rationalization, lady," Alex retorted. 

"Perhaps. Look, let me tell you a story about one of those
involuntary changes and maybe it will help you understand."
Anya told him of a drunk driver who had killed a little girl.
His wife had tricked him into coming to Bikini Beach where he
was turned into a little girl - a little girl who then became
close friends with the girl who had then NOT died because the
person who would have killed her no longer existed in the new
reality. "And in the end, that little girl asked to be changed
permanently, and to have HIS memories erased so that her
friend would stay alive and so she herself would not have to
live with the memory of what her male self had done." 

Alex sat down, deeply in thought. Finally he sighed. "From the
data you gave me, I suspect that I could easily prove that
there are other cases where you didn't have the final
agreement of the person, but as you say, what can I do? I'd
get laughed out of the DA's office if I tried to accuse you of
civil rights violations. I still don't agree with you doing
such things without the volition of the person." 

Anya considered that and shrugged. "From your perspective, I
can understand that. My Grandmother tends to take the side of
women who need help and protection. Men who threaten or hurt
women have gotten far better treatment than they deserve here,
at least in my opinion. My conscience is clear on that score." 

"Absolute power and corruption, Anya," Alex warned, but his
voice was lighter now. 

"We'll have to agree to disagree, Alex. Perhaps one day, you
will tell me why you have made yourself into so rigid a
personality. I'd like to understand," Anya waited, hoping he'd
begin, but then shrugged when he did not respond. "So, what
are your plans for the day?" 

"Well, today's my off-duty day, so I figured I would beg a
shower from you here and then run some errands." 

Anya's eyes went wide. "'Beg a shower'? You don't want to take
a shower here. Don't you remember what happens in our
showers?" 

"I figured I would find out what it was like, so that I would
be more comfortable with the . . .uh, new me when I go out on
decoy duty wearing the new undercover disguise." 

"Well, if you are sure that's what you want. . ." 

"Want? Not hardly, but it is the only thing I can think of to
do." 

"Well, we said we'd help. Wait here a moment." Anya stood and
left the room, returning a few moments later with her arms
full. She handed him a ticket first. "As you know, we are a
club. This is a one day visitor's pass. The way that works is
that you will return to your normal self sometime after
midnight tonight." 

Then she handed him a fluffy white towel and some bottles.
"Shampoo, cream rinse and some other sundries - and a bathing
suit, of course," she added with her eyes twinkling.  "What
about clothing? Women's stuff, that is?" 

"Put your guy clothes in a locker before you shower. They will
change when you do and change back when you do, too. Oh, and
I've adjusted the magic so that Alex Kowalchek will still
exist in this reality after you change. He just won't be
available if someone is looking for him." 

"Amazing," Alex replied. "If it did not fit the facts and seen
it happen myself. . . " he trailed off, wonder in his voice.
Then he continued. "Well, guess I will go take that shower.
Will I be. . well, that is. . .I mean. . ." 

"What?" Anya asked, grinning. "Will you be a looker? Guess
that will just have to be a surprise, buster. Now, scoot." She
watched him leave and then went to her office. 

She saw he'd left the computer on, and that the database was
still loaded. Curious, she sat down and scanned the list of
victims Alex had showed Anya's Grandmother. Her fingers itched
to play with the keys and she held them stiffly in her lap.
"Oh heck, what harm could it do?" 

~-------------~ 

Twenty minutes later, Allie Kowalchek slipped into the office.
She was a pretty young jade-eyed redhead, her creamy porcelain
skin speckled lightly with freckles. She was also very petite.
"Well, at least I'm modestly built," the musical voice said as
Anya grinned. "Although I think I would have preferred to be
at least a little stronger." 

"You're what you would have been if Alex had really been
Allie." 

Allie held up a hair brush. "Care to show me how to handle
this mass of hair? And I will need lessons with that makeup
kit that replaced the shaving kit in my gymbag-turned college-
girl's backpack." 

"You will do fine. Just let your mind go blank before you try
to do anything like that. I added 'training wheels' to your
enchantment. By the way, I found something while you were 
changing, in the data." 

"Oh?" the tone was light and feminine, but the intensity was
pure Alex. Eyes suddenly hard, Allie was at the computer
instantly. "What?" 

"All of the victims were here on the same day about a year and
a half ago which was about a month before your first suspected
murder. Along with six other guys who later changed back to
their male selves at the end of their temporary membership
periods." 

"GOD! How did I miss THAT?" Allie growled. 

"I am more used to the types of data we take, Allie," Anya
said gently. "I am sure it would have occurred to you once you
became more familiar with the database. But, look here, okay?"
she 
pointed to the screen. 

Allie's eyes, followed Anya's finger, looking over her
shoulder. "Hmmm. . I see. All right, Miss Expert," Allie said
in pert tones that almost had Anya giving the other girl a
double take, "What else can you tell me about the victims?" 

"Well, for one thing, all of the victims were repeat-visitors
here at the park. Each of them purchased temporary memberships
with us at least once more before they . . .before they died." 

"Fascinating," Allie said in a slow, throaty drawl. "How about
the ones who did not die?" 

Anya tapped out a query and waited for the results to pop up.
"Hmmmm. . . two of the ones still living are also repeaters -
one was in for the weekend just a couple of weeks ago. Here,
see?" 

Allie looked at the screen and reached for Alex's small spiral
notebook, but stopped short. "It can't be," she whispered. 

"What?" Anya asked. 

"That name!" the transformed cop said, pointing to one record
on the screen "It can't be! Not him." 

Anya looked at the name and searched her memory. "Him. Yes, I 
remember him. Came here alone and demanded entry. Bad aura,
and he was looking for trouble. His wife is a member and he
was looking for her. I adjusted the magic so that the woman he
became had other things on HER mind after he showered, like
sunbathing and dreaming of HER next date. But look, if we're
right about repeat-visitors being at risk, he's not in any
danger. He never came back." 

"Then," Allie's voice became very quiet, "There is a very
strong possibility that he is the murderer, Anya. Only problem
is that proving he's the murderer is going to be a real bear.
I need to talk to your Grandmother. When will she be in?" 

~------------------~ 

"My, aren't you lovely, Allie," the Old Woman said as she
greeted 
the transformed police officer. "Anya said you needed to speak
with me?" 

"My plan of being a decoy won't work," Allie said, her voice
flat. 

"Well, I cannot say that displeases me very much, dear. I had
hoped you could find a means to capture this monster without
putting yourself in too much danger, but you have aroused my
curiosity. Why won't that plan work?" 

"Because the killer knows me." 

"I see," the Old Woman said softly. "You are that certain you
know who he is?" 

The long red locks bounced as Allie nodded. "The facts all
fit, Grandmother. I am convinced that the murderer is one
James Mason. Occupation: Assistant Chief of Police of our fine
city. I wasn't sure until Anya told me how he'd ended up in
here in the first place. While that bit of information is
either psychic or anecdotal, and therefore not admissible in a
court of law, it is nonetheless telling, I think." The pretty
young face looked up to grin at the Old Woman. "You just have
to believe in magic to be convinced, is all." 

Allie stood and began pacing about the room, her face set in a
furious mask completely at odds with her youthful features.
"Ever hear of the solid blue wall? Of course you have," she
answered herself. "I saw Jana's name on your list of members
and discovered she's a transformee, so you must know how some
things, and in this case BAD things, happen in Department
because cops don't want to report on other cops. Jimmy Mason
is a career cop, and by his record, a pretty good one although
he's made his mark more behind a desk than on the streets." 

"And yet, you believe he is this murderer you came here to
find?" 

Her jade eyes flashed green fire as Allie nodded emphatically.
"What isn't on the record is that twice during his career on
the force, he was an inch away from being canned. Back in his
days on the vice squad, he developed the habit of roughing up
the working girls. His boss at the time covered that up. After
all, he was a 'good cop' and those women were nothing but
hookers, but it still became common knowledge around the
precinct. He was ordered to see a shrink to get help learning
how to control his 'unusual temper'. Old Jimmy went for the
minimum number of office visits, the overworked doc signed him
off and although they got him out of vice, he was back on the
job in a couple of months. Nothing more was said about it." 

"But it wasn't over, was it?" 

"No. He just started getting his jollies closer to home -
knocking around his wife. Eventually, that came out, too, but
not before the brown-nosing bastard made Assistant Chief. I
don't know why she never brought charges against him, but at
least now he won't make chief. She's getting a divorce and
he's fighting to keep from being dismissed." 

The Old Woman nodded. "And you are convinced he is the
murderer?" she asked again. 

The girl began ticking off points with a beautifully manicured
finger. "He was here and transformed the same day that his
wife and all of the other victims were here and transformed.
He knows investigative procedure well enough to intentionally
change his method of killing in each case. He isn't leaving
any 'calling cards' when he strikes, nor is he leaving behind
any useful trace evidence such as fibers or hair. And most
telling of all, I think, is the fact that he was the one who
ultimately shot down my serial killer theory and killed my
official investigation." 

"Rather circumstantial evidence, if I might point out, and
hardly the facts you need to take this to court." 

Allie gave the Old Woman a startled look. "You know, you're
right. Still, it is a starting hypothesis that fits the facts
as I currently know them, and for some reason, I think it is a
very good one. Call it a gut reaction." 

"I might prefer to call it 'feminine intuition', dear, she
replied, grinning broadly at the wince on the young
policewoman's face, "But I find that I am in full agreement
with you. However, if we accept this hypothesis of yours, I
can see why you now believe that it is unlikely that he will
choose you as a target." 

"I simply don't fit the profile Anya has uncovered,
Grandmother. I could come here every other day for a month. .
a year, even, and if we are right about his motivation for the
killings, he wouldn't lift a finger against me. I wasn't here
that first day and so - in his mind, at least -I am not
associated with his wife." 

"You think he is trying to kill his wife's lover?" 

Allie shrugged. "Again that is a gut re. . I mean, a
conjecture, but I think that is a strong possibility. All I
know for sure is that he and his wife were both here the same
day that all of his victims to date were here. I also know
that all of his victims were repeat-visitors, and I know that
two of the men on that list of Anya's are still alive and fit
that hypothetical killing profile." 

"What will you do, then?" 

"I just don't know! The two remaining men should be put under
police protection, but there's no way I can justify that to
the powers-that-be. No facts or evidence that I can use to
show cause, at least without explaining about Bikini Beach,"
Allie said, settling back into her chair. "Not to mention the
fact that with Mason as Assistant Chief, protective police
custody might be the worst place for them. Isn't there
something you can do? Surely, you have the power?" 

"I am afraid I am more limited than you might believe, Allie.
Outside of my park, there is little that I can do." 

"I'd put them under surveillance, but I am still manpower. . .
or is that woman power? - limited. There is only one of me and
there are two of them." 

"Jana, perhaps? She is also a police officer who is well aware
of what goes on here at my little park." 

"That would be better, but still insufficient. We have to rest
sometime and besides, the investigation is not approved. We'd
still have to show up for work on top of all that." 

"When are the two men most at risk? Surely not when they are
at work or at home?" 

"No. The murders have so far taken place away from home and
their places of business, but Mason is smart enough to see
those patterns, too." 

"Then perhaps the thing for you and Jana to do is to put the
chief under surveillance." 

"Assistant Chief," Allie corrected automatically, then started
at the thought. "You maybe right, but if I get caught at this.
. ." 

"Well, Alex can keep track of him during working hours fairly
easily, but he doesn't know Allie, does he?" Allie shook her
head. "Very well, perhaps between you and Jana, you could
share the surveillance off hours. You cannot change back and
forth every day without dangerous side effects, but with my
help, you could handle it every other night for a month or so
if you could spend most of, say, one weekend in three without
any changing at all." 

"It would take some planning, and this Jana would have to
agree to working a lot of double shifts, too." 

"I am sure she will be more than willing. You are, in fact,
kindred spirits. In another life, you might have been friends.
Well, you have errands to run, and you should take advantage
of the park while you can. I will see what I can do for you." 

~--------------~ 

A month later. 

Anya waited outside the men's locker room while Alex showered,
the pink mist rising above the open walls signaling the
accompanying change of gender. Moments later, the diminutive
figure of Allie Kowalchek appeared, dressed in a black
turtleneck sweater and a pair of black slacks. 

"Hi!" Allie smiled at her friend. 

"Hi yourself!" Anya replied. "So, how are you feeling? No
signs of the addiction-effect Grandmother described to you?
And I will know if you try to lie to me." 

Allie chuckled. "I am fine, momma hen. Better than fine,
actually," she went on, more seriously. 

"I'd noticed, actually." Anya asked. "You're not so much the
logical, fact drive 'Mr. Spock' clone after you take one of
Grandmother's special showers." At Allie's suddenly hard,
very- much-Alex-the-cop look, Anya held up her hands in mock
self protection. "No, no, you're still a cop and you're still
very good at what you do. You're just more. . I don't know,
flexible, maybe? Certainly a lot less pedantic. Kind of like
Spock when his human side was ascendant over his Vulcan side.
Still smart and capable, just more .. . well, human." 

"Fascinating," Allie drawled, trying to sound like Leonard
Nimoy, and failing dramatically, thanks to her crystalline
soprano voice. 

Both girls laughed at that. "So, you like it? Being a girl,
that is?" 

"Well, it is kind of hard to explain, but I am enjoying my
time being a woman. Certain. . .painful things in Alex's life
don't seem to hurt so much when I am Allie. I can let loose
and have fun again, like I could before. . . "  

"Before your wife and little girl were killed?" Anya finished,
having 'seen' that in her friend's mind. 

"Yup," Allie said, her voice a little shaky. "Meg and I grew
up together, and knew . . ., almost from our first day in
kindergarten together. . .  that we were meant for each other.
There isn't a morning I don't wake up and look for her next to
me in my bed, or a day I don't think of something I want to
share with her. Bethanne, our nine year old little girl, was
ninety percent angel and ten percent imp and all ours. I've
tried to fill the hole their deaths have left in my world with
work, with other women - even with booze, but none of that
works. Somehow, though, that hole isn't so large when I am
Allie." 

"That's probably because, even though Grandmother has fixed it
so your changes don't alter reality, you are still a woman
now, and a woman cannot father a child. You 'remember' your
daughter and your wife, but perhaps you don't FEEL them quite
so much as you do when you are Alex." 

"Maybe that's it," the petite redhead replied, but there was
something in her voice. 

"Is that why Alex became such a fact-driven perfectionist,
Allie? So that he couldn't feel as much? If so, that is a very
sad and lonely way to live." 

"That's certainly part of it. Down at the precinct, they think
of me as some avenging angel-type, out to bring down the
bastards who prey on the innocent and determined never to have
a case thrown out because the facts and the evidence didn't
fit or were in someway contaminated." 

"'They think', Allie? You mean that isn't the real answer?" 

Allie looked up into the soft, caring eyes of the woman she
had come to call 'friend', and sighed. "You sure you want to
know? I've never told anyone this before, and I would rather
not lose your friendship." 

Anya waved that away. "You know my darkest secrets. Surely I
can help share yours, because really, Allie, you look like you
need someone else to help with that burden." 

Taking a very deep breath, Allie blurted out. "I killed him!" 

Anya's eyes went wide. "Killed who? Oh, the animal who
murdered your family?" 

Allie nodded. "I wasn't supposed to be on the case, but I was
anyway. The captain covered it up so the press never got wind
of my activities. We had the bastard on a major drug bust, but
it wasn't enough. We couldn't connect him to the murder of my
family. He'd be granted bail and he had enough money stashed
to skip. I went 'undercover' one night and got lucky - there
was a meet. I called for backup. I didn't tell them to make a
covert approach. They heard sirens and started to run. I
pulled out my weapon and ordered them to stand fast. One of
the punks pulled his own piece and fired. I returned fire and
took him down, but not before my first shot accidently went a
little wild and hit my family's murderer between the eyes." 

"Accidently on purpose?" Anya asked. 

Tears began to run down Allie's cheeks. "I've asked myself
that question a million times, Anya, and the only answer I
have is that I don't know. I wanted him dead and I shoot
expert with my nine millimeter police-issue automatic. He was
close to my target, but. . .I just don't know. Internal
Affairs got involved and raked me across the coals pretty good
for several days, but in the end, I was exonerated." 

"And that led to your fetish for facts and perfect chains of
evidence?" 

"A week or so after the shooting, we finally broke the murder
case on my family. Caught the bomber and he sang on that case
and a number of others. If I had not killed the druggie, he'd
be on death row right now. So I made myself a promise, sort of
a penance, I guess. I'd get the bastards who hurt or killed
the innocent or who let others get away with the killing and
the hurting, but I would do it by the book. I would wrap them
up in facts, truth and evidence so tightly, so perfectly, that
no one would EVER break one of my cases. The victims, like my
Meggie and my little Bethie-Anne, deserve justice, and I would
get it for them, but never again at the risk of my own soul.
I'd get them, but I would never again go down to the
criminals' level to do it." 

"I see," Anya replied. "Well, my only regret is that you
didn't bring that druggie here. There are a number of houses
of ill repute in some of the less civilized South American
cities that can always use another drug-addicted prostitute,
particularly one who remembers being a vicious male drug lord
but can't do a damn thing about it." 

Allie gaped at Anya. "Lord, what a concept. I think I regret
that, too. But. . but, you don't. . well, think I am a
hypocrite now that you know my story?" 

"Of course not. For one thing, I DO believe that it was an
accident because I know you, both as Allie and as Alex, and
second, because I think that animal got off easy. YOU are the
one, or at least, ALEX is the one who has suffered because of
that shooting and who is continuing to suffer to this day. So,
I think it is wonderful that you came here and got to meet
Allie. Maybe SHE will help you find some fun and peace in your
life." 

"Well, I sure have enjoyed some new experiences as Allie, when
I am not tailing Mason, that is. Heavens, I even went shopping
with you last Sunday and loved every minute of it. Alex orders
all his clothes by mail order and hates spending THAT much
time on it." 

"Barbarous!" Anya replied, causing both girls to break out in
a fit of giggles. "So, girlfriend, since this coming weekend
is an "allie-weekend" for you, what do you say we go do a
little clubbing together when you're off duty? Say, Saturday?" 

"Clubbing," a single, finely shaped brow arched. "As in, where
the guys are?" 

"Girls, too," Anya said smoothly, "And good food, drink, music
and laughter. You don't have enough of any of those in your
life. So what do you say?" 

"Welllllllll. .. . if you promise not to push me at any guys,
I will think about it." 

Anya grinned and made a cross over her heart. "Girl Scout's
Honor," she said. 

"Were you REALLY a Girl Scout?" Allie retorted, but before
Anya could reply, they were interrupted by Allie's cellular
phone. She answered it. "Allie?" she heard in the earpiece.
"It's Jana. Mason is moving and it feels funny, okay? He's
headed for downtown and in all the time I've been tailing him,
he hasn't done that before." 

"Not when I've watched him, either. I'm on my way from the
park. I will call you in ten minutes for a rendezvous." 

"Roger that." Allie heard the phone disconnect. 

"Gotta run. Something is up." 

"Be careful, dear," Anya ordered with a quick hug.

"Always! Wish me luck," Allie replied and ran out the door.

"Luck, girlfriend. A whole great big pile of it." Anya turned
and was almost surprised to see her Grandmother standing
beside her. 

"She will need it tonight," the Old Woman said softly. "I can
feel it." 

~------------~ 

The little late-model Honda that magically replaced Alex's
unmarked cruiser whenever he changed to Allie lacked both the
power and the electronics of a police vehicle. Allie regretted
those oversights and should have asked Anya to fix those
omissions, but could do nothing about it now. She pulled out
the cell phone and dialed Jana. "I'm still on him," the
officer reported. "I think he's heading for subject number
two's Masonic Lodge." 

"Roger that, Jana. I will head there directly. Let me know if
his objective changes." 

"Roger, out." 

Allie arrived at the old lodge building and took up a position
to watch. Suddenly, sirens filled the night and two black and
whites flashed past her heading toward the outskirts of town.
Allie again wished she at least had a police scanner in this
car. *What the hell is the good of magic if you can't have
what you need when you need it?* she thought in frustration.  

A half hour later, there was no sign of either Mason or Jana.
Several calls to her unofficial partner had resulted in no
response over the cell phone other than the recorded "The
person you are trying to reach is either out of the calling
area or has turned the phone off." 

That was possible, Allie mused, if Jana was close to Mason and
did not want the phone's ringing to alert her target, but it
was still very disturbing. Worse, she had no idea at all where
Mason was at that moment. 

Just then, the door of the lodge opened and the members filed
out, calling out their farewells to each other as they went to
their cars. Sighing, Allie prepared to leave and locate Jana
when a loud explosion brought her up short. Snatching up her
purse for the small 25 caliber automatic hidden inside, she
jumped out of her car and ran toward the sound. She saw a
flaming mass that had once been a car and a group of men
yelling and gesticulating when there was a flash of bright
light in the back of her head an instant before her skull
exploded painfully. 

~-------------~ 

She woke up slowly and painfully some time later. The dawning
sun shown painfully into Allie's eyes and she tried to shift
her position to escape its rays but stopped moving instantly
when something cold and metallic was pressed against her head.
"Don't move, Kowalchek," an amused male voice ordered. 

Alex opened his eyes and saw James Mason smiling down at him.
"You know, Alex, I didn't watch either time I changed. It will
be rather fascinating watching you become a male again. You
failed, by the way," he added, almost conversationally. 

"Failed?" Allie asked, her mind still muddled. 

"Failed. That no-good adulterous bastard is dead. I only have
one more to kill and then, my dear wife will have no choice
but to listen to me and to come home where she belongs. That
will put an end, once and for all, to those evil rumors about
me being a wife abuser. Once my pretty blond slut is back by
my side, I will once again be the number one candidate for the
Chief's job when he retires next year." 

"Don't know what. . .you're talking about." 

"Don't take me for a fool, Kowalchek!" Mason snapped. "I must
say, though, you're almost as good as your reputation. I don't
know how you caught the Bikini Beach connection, but you did.
It was such a sweet setup for my little administrations of
justice. I mean, no rational, modern person would believe that
the thing that connected all those necessary executions was
that the condemned men liked become women at a park where real
magic happened." 

Mason's voice had an odd pitch to it, and Allie wondered if
that was some sort of madness talking. *Of course it's
madness, Kowalchek,* her mind retorted. *Sane people don't
just murder ten. . no, eleven human beings and call it
justice. Well, if he's crazy, then that may be my only chance.
Keep him talking, Allie, keep him talking.* "Until I came on
the scene." 

"Yes, that was unfortunate - for YOU. Sadly, your partner and
your feminine alter ego weren't nearly as good at covert
surveillance as you needed to be. Only two cars and the same
ones night after night? Bad tactics, Kowalchek, very bad
tactics. I was on to you two, almost three weeks ago."

"Where is Jana," Allie demanded all the while praying that the
transformed cop had not already been killed by this lunatic. 

"Right over there," Mason said with a grin, motioning with the
gun. "Have a look." 

Allie turned and felt her blood run cold. Jana was gagged and
handcuffed, her body propped up against a white marble
monument that Allie instantly recognized. 

"'Beloved wife and daughter - Megan and Bethanne Kowalchek.'"
Mason read aloud. "How sweet. A lovely place to die, don't you
think?" Mason asked as he took a seat on the simple marble
grave marker.  

"What are you going to do?" Allie hissed, her hands flexing
and unflexing in fury at this bastard defiling the ground made
sacred by the remains of his wife and daughter. Mason turned
to glance down at Jana and Allie saw her chance. *NOW!* her
mind roared as she coiled to spring. 

Mason caught the movement in his peripheral vision and saw the
lethal intent flash in his adversary's eyes. With one smooth,
practiced motion, he brought Allie's automatic to bear and
snapped off a shot with the small caliber weapon. Allie
screamed as the bullet tore into her right knee, destroying
bone and muscle in its savage flight. 

"Don't try anything like that again," Mason ordered coldly.
"Or I'll put the next round in your other ankle. As to what
we're going to do, you are going to be the star of a little
murder/suicide drama I've scripted out. You and this little
bitch have been found guilty of aiding and abetting convicted
criminals, namely my adulterous wife and her bastard lovers.
You are both sentenced to death." 

"You are nuts, Mason. Really looney tunes. Do really think
anyone will buy that scenario? Alex Kowalchek hardly knows
this officer and as a female, I don't really exist in this
reality." 

"Oh, the right will prevail, Kowalchek. I'll find a way to
make this stick, never fear. As to your so-lovely feminine
identity, well, we'll just wait until you change back into
Alex, whereupon this," and he held up the little lady's pocket
gun, "will once again become your issued weapon. Then, I will
shoot you in the head and this fine young officer in the
heart. I will replace my handcuffs with yours, and press the
death weapon into your hand. Everyone knows how much you miss
your darling family, Kowalchek, and how much you blame
yourself for their deaths." 

"Fool!" Allie ground out, fighting the intense agony from her
wrecked knee. "How does that all work with my knee in pieces
from that bullet you just put in me." 

Mason shrugged. "Come now, Kowalchek, that is the least of my
worries. You know as well as I do that reality changes when
that woman's magic is at work. Your knee will be fine because
in that reality because when there is an Alex, there is no
"Allie", so Allie couldn't have been shot." 

The world around Allie began to spin and she felt a bit
nauseous. "And it looks like Alex is just about to rejoin us,"
Mason gloated. 

When Alex's eyes finally cleared, all he saw was his Glock
police issue nine millimeter pointed at him. "Time to die,
Kowalchek," Mason said gloatingly. 

Alex closed his eyes and wished he'd done a better job of this
when an odd sound, sort of like a "thwip-thud" sounded in his
ears. Mason gave a choking sound and Alex opened his eyes in
time to see the man fall to the ground, holding his chest. 

Anya was on him in an instant, an oddly shaped weapon in her
hand. "Tranquilizer gun," she said reading his mind. "God,
what did he do to you?" she demanded. 

"Huh?" Alex asked just before he felt Anya move his leg and
screamed. "He said. . it wouldn't wounded. . . after. . " and
for the second time in mere hours, Alex passed out. 

~------------~ 

When Alex woke up, he was laying on the sofa in the Old
Woman's office. Looking around, he saw Anya dozing in the
nearby easy chair, a sleeping baby laying atop her. 

He tried to sit up, for the call of nature was upon him, but
raw, cutting pain in his leg stopped him. His exclamation of
pain awoke Anya. She rose, settled the baby in a bassinet, and
came over to him. "How are you feeling?" 

"Like I wish this leg belonged to someone else. Jana? Is she
all right?" 

"Sleeping, but fine. A bit of a headache is all." 

"What about Mason? He's crazy, Anya. He'll kill that last
fellow and then who knows what he'll do next. Maybe even try
to go after you and Grandmother." 

"No he won't because he no longer exists. In fact, he has
never existed." 

Alex looked at her for a moment and then it all became clear.
"The baby?" 

"Yes," Anya said firmly. 

"Just as well," Alex replied. "Are all the victims alive
again, now that he's gone forever?" 

"No, they're not, and so far, Grandmother and I haven't been
able to figure out why." 

"I think I know," the Old Woman said from the door. 

"What?" Alex and Anya demanded, almost in unison. 

The Old Woman moved a chair over near the sofa and sat down.
She regarded Alex intently before speaking. "Mason was
correct, Alex. Your leg should have been uninjured following
the change this morning. The reason it did not is the same
reason Elaine and all those other women are still widows." 

"Why?" Alex asked. 

"You're the reason, Alex. You have an eidetic memory; what is
popularly known as a photographic memory. On top of that, you
also have a significant if untrained natural talent for magic.
The combination of the two is preventing the shift in reality
needed to undo all the damage Mason caused. Unconsciously, you
are resisting my magic and bolstering the current reality." 

"Can't we do anything?" Alex asked, the combination of the
pain in his leg and the pain in his heart nearly bringing him
to tears. "Can't you do anything?" 

"Yes," the Old Woman said. "There is something I can do, but
it requires a great sacrifice of you, dear boy." 

Alex looked at her for a long moment, and then he understood.
"Like that drunk driver, right? The one who changed and then
forgot his other life. If I no longer exist, and if I cannot
remember, then this magic talent you say I have cannot resist
the change in reality." 

The Old Woman nodded. "You are correct, Alexander, however,
there is one small problem. Normally, I could cause the needed
memory loss without any real difficulty, but not with you.
Again, your magic will resist me. I could handle that, if not
for the physiological advantages that makes your brain so
efficient at memory. The combination of your magic and your
memory is more than I can cope with, even with Anya's
assistance." 

"Then, there's no hope at all?" 

"There is one chance, Alexander. The very, very young brain is
not yet complex enough, has not yet made the neural pathway
connections necessary to maintain the type of perfect recall
you currently possess. If your brain is that young, the number
of pathways I would need to affect to remove these memories is
smaller by several orders of magnitude." 

"And you could then do what needs be done?" Alex asked, hope
renewed. 

"I believe so, dear, but for that to happen, I will need to
turn you into a young girl - one so young her brain has not
yet developed sufficiently to have an adult's perfect recall." 

"How. . .how young would that be?" 

"Very young, I am afraid. Four or five years old. Certainly no
older than six, but I promise that you won't be otherwise
diminished. Your perfect memory will again develop, but
without Alex's memories. As for your physical attributes, you
already know what you will look like when you grow up again." 

He thought about eleven men and eleven families mourning their
deaths, and he thought about a lifelong love lost and a little 
girl with his eyes, also lost. What did he have that was so
wonderful that giving it up counted for more than those eleven
broken families? He looked up at the two solemn faced women.
"Help me to the showers, please?"  

"You're sure, Alex? Once we start, there can be no turning
back." 

"Never surer, Grandmother." 

~------------~ 

It felt very funny, Allie thought, being so short as she dried
off after the shower. Why, she could barely reach the sink and
they really needed to put in mirrors suitable for girls HER
size. The part of Allie that was still Alex grinned at that
and wondered if she'd have time to tell Anya and Grandmother
about that deficiency. Grandma had said Alex's memories would
slowly fade after the shower until all she remembered was
whatever her new reality specified. "Allie?" an oddly familiar
girl's voice called. "Aren't you ready YET? Mom and Aunt Anya
are taking us out for pizza and we each get to choose a
topping!" 

"Almost," she called back as she suddenly remembered the name
of her big sister, "Bethanne." 

A girl of about ten years ran in followed by a woman Allie's
mind called "Momma," and who Alex's fading memories called
"Meggie!" 

"We can't go for pizza until you're dressed, sweetie," her
Mother said indulgently. "Now, hustle up so you can give
Grandma a bye- bye hug before we leave." 

Allie hurriedly put on her shorts and top, and slipped into
her sandals. Outside the locker room, she found her mother
talking with Grandma and Auntie Anya. She hurried over and
launched herself at the older woman and was swept up into a
fierce hug. "Thank you, Grandma," Allie said. "For
everything," Alex added. 

The Old Woman set the child down. Allie then saw a woman, some
almost forgotten memory said the woman's name was Elaine,
heading toward a car in which her once-again-very-much-alive
husband, Thomas waited, their children, including a very
young, pink-rompered baby, in tow. 

 *To serve and protect,* was Alex's final thought, and then
all was Allie, forever more. "I thought we were going for
pizza," Allie demanded impatiently as she looked up at her
mother and aunt. 

~--------------~ 

Later, the Old Woman and Anya relaxed in their private
quarters, enjoying glasses of iced mint tea. "So, Mason is now
the daughter of one of his victims, and Alex is the daughter
of his own wife. What a convoluted ending," Anya sighed. 

"Well, it did seem to be the best option, all things
considered." 

Anya perked up. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded. "You
said that this was the only way to undo what that monster had
done to the families of our members." 

Her Grandmother grinned. "I said it was the only thing *I*
could do, dear, even with your help and I meant that quite
literally. In truth, there are other adepts who could have
helped me handle this situation in some other manner. The
Council of Wizards could have simply stripped Alexander of his
untrained talent, for example." 

"So, why didn't you do that? Alex did not strike me as the
kind of fellow who would want to learn magic anyway." 

"Well, one reason I rejected such a strategy was because
Allie's power may someday be used to accomplish great good in
the world if preserved and properly trained. Destroying such
potential out of hand is a sinful waste of an important gift." 

"What other reason, Grandmother, because I don't think that's
why you really did it." 

"Because I came to care deeply about Alexander, dear, and had
he continued as he was, he'd never have been happy again. His
happiness died with his family and there was nothing I or
anyone else could have done that would have changed that
condition as long as he lived. On the other hand, Allie no
longer has that pain bottled up inside her, nor does she feel
that guilt because in this new reality, it was Alex who was
killed by that drug dealer, not his family." 

"I love you, Grandmother," Anya said. 

The Old Woman smiled. "That's what Alex told me, dear. And
Allie, too."