Chapter Thirty-Two
Sex Change – Ruby Grace Sutherland
I have woken up the next morning beside a few women before, but they were strangers who left me feeling cold lying beside them. Waking up beside Trina, with her arm lying possessively across my stomach, I felt warm and safe and so deeply in love. Last night I’d tried to show her just how much I loved her, but I couldn’t say the words out loud. Not yet. Not when it may be my last chance to protect her.
In a few minutes she would wake up, and we would focus only on the job tonight. Nothing else could interfere with that. So, as I lay there, feeling her chest rise and fall, listening to her breathing, and reveling in the warmth of her body, I stared up at the ceiling as I memorized everything about her. About us. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer for her safety. “Lord, you sent her to me and I know that she’s the one. Please protect us and let us have the long life you promised us. Amen.”
*
“Again,” Trina ordered, as she scooped up a fork full of scrambled eggs.
“You inherited your money from your pa, who inherited from his pappy.”
“Pappy, seriously?”
“Remember, I’m supposed to be a prepubescent sex-hungry boy. Since I will inherit your money, I don’t have to be educated.”
She laughed and nodded. “Okay. Go again.”
I exhaled and placed my fork on my plate. “My pa inherited his money from his pa. And someday I’ll take over the business and make my own money.”
“And what do you plan to do with that money, young man?”
“Why, I’m a gonna bid on a couple of those girls up there on that stage. My pa says it’ll make a man out of me.” I thrust my chest out and snapped invisible suspenders.
Trina dropped her fork and burst out laughing.
“Okay, that cannot happen tonight,” I warned, laughing myself.
“I know, that’s why we’re practicing now, to get it out of our system,” she said with a chuckle.
“I’ll buy that.”
Nothing could go wrong tonight. This nightmare had to end for everyone concerned, including me and those girls being auctioned off. Trina didn’t know this, but even with my rapist dead, I still froze every time I heard a noise that reminded me of the attack. I panicked inside when I heard Jack say certain words. It puts me right back on the ground with Grady on top of me. Dear, God. I can’t freeze up tonight.
“Ask me some more questions.”
“How old are you, little man?” she asked, picking up her fork again.
“I’ll be sixteen next month.”
“Sixteen? That’s practically a man.”
“Pa says I’ll only be a man when I lose my virginity.”
“And this is how you plan to do that. Bidding on a girl?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s going to teach me everything I need to know.”
“And then what will you do with her?”
I looked at Trina curiously. “That’s an unusual question, isn’t it?”
“Not for the sick bastards we’ll be dealing with.”
“True,” I agreed, sitting up in my chair. “After I’m a man, I guess I’ll give her to my little brother.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Trina said. “You’re starting to scare me.”
“Stay on yer toes, Pa, I’m growing up fast.”
T-minus Four Hours and Counting – Trina Wiles
“Again,” Ruby said, sitting across the table from me.
“Here’s a hundred for your trouble, little miss,” I said in a deep, masculine voice, handing Ruby an invisible bill. “And I’ll give you another hundred every time you refresh my whiskey.”
“Yep, that’s a rich, spoiled oil baron for sure.”
“Okay, now let’s get dressed and rehearse in costume,” I said. I stood up and held out my hands to help her up.
“But it’s hours before we leave,” she pouted, taking my hands.
“I know. But we need to be comfortable in the getup, and I want to practice reaching for my gun.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said.
“Yeah, let’s hope. But I need to work on my nerves, so humor me, okay?”
“Right there with you, honey,” she said, smacking me on the arm. “Come on, let’s go into the man cave and change our sex.”
“I’d rather go into the femme den and have sex,” I said, winking at her. Of course, we were in a motel so going to the bedroom meant turning around.
“Oh, yeah. Me, too. But you’ll have to wait until later tonight, after the bust.”
“When we celebrate. Yeah, I’ll wait until then,” I said. “But it won’t be easy.”
“Focus, Pa. We’ve got a lot to do before tonight,” she said, reaching for her makeup case sitting on the chair beside her. She sat it on the table and opened it, pulling out a bottle and some cotton balls.
“Yeah, I’ve got to grow a beard and put on a couple hundred pounds in four hours.”
“And I need to take off twelve years and develop a nasty case of pimples.”
“Ew, I think I’m getting the better end of the deal,” I said.
She picked up a pair of socks from the table and threw them at me. “Here’s your manhood, keep it in your pants.”
I looked at the socks and smirked. “I’m going to need a couple more pairs.”
“That’s a vision I didn’t need,” she complained, wiping the makeup from her face. “Anyway, if you’re fat, they can’t see your little ding-a-ling for your belly.”
“Good point, although I wonder why you know that. Just how many fat guy ding-a-lings have you seen?”
She blushed a beautiful pink and then frowned. “I don’t look at that particular part of a man. I probably saw it on television.”
“Sure, I’ll accept that,” I teased.
“Did Jack say if he was going to wear a costume?” she asked, picking up the shopping bag sitting on the bed.
When we went shopping for men’s clothing, Ruby had the foresight to pick up makeup, hair and beards, and even a tummy for me.
“No, he didn’t. I think he wants to see if we recognize him.”
“Oh, no. We have to pretend we don’t know him or anyone else for that matter.”
“Agreed. And that’s the way we’ll play it,” I said, picking up the fake pregnancy belly. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t look for him in the crowd.”
“I’ll be busy avoiding Joey,” she said.
“Yeah, be careful not to talk to anyone in your natural voice.”
“Yes, Pa.”
“That’s a good boy,” I said, mussing her hair.
“Yeah, keep it up, old man,” she warned, smoothing her hair. “Here, help me with this, please.”
She handed me her fake pimples and opened the spirit gum. After dabbing the glue on the inside of the rubber mask, she took it back and I held up the small makeup mirror as she glued the prosthetic to her face.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the mirror from me. “I can take it from here. You’d better test out your gun-toting belly bump now.”
“There’s not much to it. Just need to adjust the straps so the stomach hangs over my tiny ding-a-ling, and—” Another pair of socks whizzed by my head.
Time to End It – Trina Wiles
“No, son. You’re too young to drink,” I said in a deep voice. Taking the whiskey I’d ordered neat, I tipped the bosomy waitress by slipping a hundred dollar bill between her breasts.
“But, Pa,” Ruby pouted, putting her hands on her hips.
I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. “You heard me, Rupert.”
The warehouse was decorated with crepe paper and balloons, probably left over from Joey’s birthday party the night before. No doubt he thought that having the auction in the same warehouse as the party would be a good cover. Men of all ages, wearing expensive tuxedos, mingled quietly, waiting for the auction to start. I wondered how many of those men had been here before. Like everyone els
e, we were searched before we were allowed in. They patted me down, including my fake belly and even checked my ears for receivers. We weren’t wearing receivers, but we did have microphones taped to our chests. The first hurtle was accomplished, but I couldn’t relax yet. Ruby needed to fool Joey first.
“Any sign of Jack?” I asked.
Ruby shook her head. “He must be in a really good disguise.”
“Is that your boy?” a man’s voice asked from behind me.
“Yes, that’s my Rupert,” I answered, turning around to find Joey standing in front of me.
I recognized him from his society pictures. Joey loved the limelight, and I could tell that he thought of himself as the ultimate playboy. Boyish brown eyes, brown hair, clean shaven with teenage acne scars on his cheeks. He was a several inches shorter than me, and I imagined if I hadn’t been dressed like an old man, he’d have been intimidated by my height. Speculation based solely on what I’d heard about him.
“You must be our host, Joey Andrepont,” I said in a deep voice, holding my hand out to shake before I realized my hand would be significantly smaller than a man’s. It was too late. The best I could do was shake so hard he’d be distracted. I squeezed his hand as hard as I could, like I used to do when Corey and I were having a showdown. I dominated the handshake, putting Joey in the submissive position, but I don’t think he was even aware of it. By the time the handshake was done, Joey shook his hand in the air.
“That’s quite a grip you’ve got there, Mister…?”
“Johnathan Barton, of Barton Oil, and this is my son, John Rupert, Junior. His sixteenth birthday is coming up, and it’s time he became a man.”
I held my breath as he looked directly at Ruby. Besides the fake pimples, she wore a dark brown wig that had the shaggy look a young teenager would have and dark contacts. Like me, she wore a dark blue tuxedo jacket over a black silk shirt. But unlike me, she didn’t wear a bowtie.
“You’re lucky to have such a generous father, young man,” he said, then turned to me. “We’ll begin shortly. In the meantime, why don’t you have another drink?” He waved his hand and a cocktail waitress appeared out of nowhere with a fresh shot of whiskey for me. Another hundred-dollar tip, which impressed Joey, and she was gone.
“Damn, Pa. Don’t go spending all your money on her tits. Save some of that for me.”
Laughing, I slapped her on the shoulder and asked, “What’s the matter, son? Are you jealous?”
Sneering, she asked, “Do you really want to find out, Pa?”
Just as I was about to hold my hands up in surrender, Joey walked up to an older couple beside the stage and kissed the woman on the cheek. That had to be his parents. Except for the cocktail waitress, there were no other women in the room and the affection the woman showed him was motherly, not sexual. Joey walked onstage and tapped on the microphone, garnering everyone’s attention when it squealed.
The curtains parted behind him and a young girl, probably thirteen years old, with straggly hair and wearing a tattered dress, was shoved onstage. She was obviously terrified, as Joey took her by the shoulders and walked her to the center of the stage. Then he stepped over to the microphone.
“What am I bid for this lovely virgin fresh off the proverbial farm?”
Hands went up and civilized shouts of dollar amounts filled the room.
I looked at Ruby and nodded. This was it. This was all the evidence we needed. I pulled my jacket back and pretended to scratch my belly. All I needed to do was unsnap my shirt and slide my hand under the silicone tummy and reach for my gun. Then I saw Paul.
He was wearing a dark suit and a black mask over his eyes but I recognized him by the streak of gray in his black hair. He scanned the room before moving behind the crowd, taking up a position at the back of the room. I watched him from the corner of my eye. What the hell is he doing here?
“What is it?” Ruby whispered.
I leaned close and whispered, “Paul’s here.”
“Is he part of our backup?” Ruby asked.
“I can’t tell who he’s working for,” I lamented, looking back over my shoulder at Paul. He looked to be arguing with another man, also in a mask.
“Sold for twenty thousand to the gentleman wearing the fedora,” Joey exclaimed.
Everyone looked at the man who had just won the first sale. It was Jack, dressed in a white suit, with a white goatee and eyebrows. He looked like Colonel Sanders in that get up. He puffed on his stogie, a large grin on his face. He glanced over at Ruby, nodded, and tipped his hat.
Suddenly, an army of FBI agents, wearing bulletproof vests, barged in shouting and pointing guns. Joey grabbed the girl and pulled a gun from his back. He pressed it to her head.
Ruby disappeared in the crowd as I ripped my shirt open and grabbed my gun. “Ruby, get back here!”
Rapid gunfire cracked and popped overhead, causing people to panic and run for the door. I turned to see Paul firing a Sig Sauer semi-automatic pistol in the air. I aimed my gun at him. “Paul! No!”
An FBI agent opened fire, hitting Paul several times. I could only watch in horror as Paul fell to the floor, still firing the semi-automatic, sending bullets ricocheting off the ceiling. I turned my back on him and ran to find Ruby.
As if running uphill in water, I shoved and elbowed my way through hysterical cocktail waitresses running every which way and men, some of whom had wet their pants, trying to get past the FBI. I got to the stage just as Joey drew down on the girl.
“Joey, freeze!” I yelled, aiming my gun at his head. It was the only unprotected spot on him and I was praying that I wouldn’t miss.
“Get back or I’ll kill her,” Joey demanded.
I put my finger on the trigger, but Joey suddenly lurched forward, his mouth gaping open as he dropped his gun and tried to reach behind his back. He fell to the floor face first. Ruby stood over him holding a bloody knife she had grabbed from the bar. She rushed toward the girl and wrapped her arms around her, leading her off the stage. Several agents surrounded Joey’s hysterical mother and angry father before they could get away and others capture Joey’s hired guns.
The air began to settle as Jack walked over to us. “That didn’t quite go as planned, but at least no one on our side was hurt.”
“Are you all right, Ruby?” I asked.
“Yes. Are you okay?”
I didn’t answer. As soon as I knew Ruby was all right, I had to find out about Paul. I turned and ran back to where he lay on the floor. I knelt beside the agent who was trying to stop the blood gushing from a wound with his hands. Paul had several bullet wounds, so I began pressure on the one in his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t have hurt anyone,” he proclaimed, gasping to speak. “Greg said it would be easy money. I… didn’t know, Trina. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Why, Paul?” I asked, not believing him.
“Medical bills,” he sputtered.
“You could have gotten help,” I cried angrily. “Damn it, Paul! I would have helped you.”
Paul didn’t hear me.
There Must Be A Reckoning – Ruby Grace Sutherland
A week later we all sat around a large conference table at the FBI headquarters. The shiny black table with eight leather desk chairs sitting around it, had a portfolio file folder with FBI stamped on the cover in front of each chair. Ink pens and glasses turned upside down sitting on a white coaster, had been placed beside the reports. Pitchers of ice water and a fruit tray set in the center of the table.
Trina had passed her psych evaluation and her captain informed her earlier this morning that she could report back to work tomorrow. I was still on leave pending approval from our psych evaluation, which I hoped to hear about today.
We weren’t allowed to interrogate the prisoners or even sit in the observation room and watch. All the suspects were in FBI custody and questioned by FBI agents. We were gathered around the table to hear the results of those interrogations.
Captain Kathe
rine Mathison, Trina’s boss, and Jack, my boss, were having a heated conversation. It was understandable. Paul was Mathison’s detective and Jack wanted answers. But then, Greg was the one who talked Paul into working with him, so, Mathison wasn’t going to let Jack off the hook.
Trina sat stoically beside me, gritting her teeth. Paul’s death had been hard on her and I could tell that hearing Jack fault him was angering her. She blamed herself for his death. Unfortunately, so did his sick wife. The day after the incident, Trina and I went to our respective offices to turn in our weapons and file our reports. Paul’s wife came in to answer questions and have her questions answered. Trina couldn’t talk about it without tearing up, but from what I could gather, she had stood quietly and let Mrs. Rhoades scream at her, accuse her, and blame her.
It had been a very rough week. During the day we had reports to write and questions to answer, but at night we clung to each other, talking, listening, loving, and making love. It wasn’t just Paul’s involvement, but Greg’s as well. Nightmares conjured a vision of him forcing himself on me that caused me to wake up screaming. Trina tried to assuage my bad dreams by telling me she believed Greg never touched me in that way. She theorized that Greg had broken, mentally, and was bragging only to inflict more pain. It worked. It’s still working.
“Listen, we both had an agent go bad,” Jack admitted. “Let’s table the blame game and get down to brass taxes. I just got the transcripts from the interrogations. I’m sure Ruby and Trina would like to know what was learned.”
“It’s about damn time,” Trina growled.
Jack glanced at her but didn’t respond. “I haven’t had a chance to read the full report, so, I’ll read the summary from one of the security guard’s that we cut a deal with.” Jack opened up his portfolio and began reading. “Greg had been recruited by Joey three years ago and became suspicious when his partner, Ruby, was, in his eyes, promoted over him. Just a side note here, Billy Brooklyn, our digital forensic expert found digital fingerprints Greg had left on some of the human trafficking cases that he tried to alter. Anyway, he learned that she was working undercover to catch Joey, and that’s when he planned out his revenge.”
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