Murder Misstery

"Did he really hate me that much?"

"Of course not, dear. Of course we didn't believe it when you were accused of embezzlement, but then when you were linked to the murder of your business partner, we were both devastated. It wasn't until they reported that you fled the country in women's clothing that he gave up on you, but he never really hated you. He was hurt, embarrassed, and very disappointed."

"Can I ask a question that's been bothering me a lot?"

"Of course."

"Could what I did have contributed to his death?"

"Of course not, honey! Oh, you poor thing…no, he was diagnosed with cancer shortly before all that happened, and he chose to keep it from you and your brothers as long as possible. He was a very proud man, and he didn't want anyone feeling sorry for him. I suppose that's why he was so humiliated when you turned yourself into a woman…but in answer to your question, he never hated you, and shortly before he died he told me that the first thing he was going to do when he got to heaven was track you down and straighten you out!"

I wiped away a tear. "Thanks, Mom, that means a lot to me."

"Your father lived his life to the fullest," she said, looking around the sumptuous plane. "As he used to say, this is the only way to fly!"

As if on cue, the cute co-pilot sauntered back from the open cockpit door, and after pinning up a map showing our flight plan from Chicago to Paris, he asked us if we we'd like cocktails or wine before dinner. Mom selected a vintage chardonnay from the short wine list and retired to the lavatory in the back of the plane to change her clothes, leaving me to chat with the obviously interested hunk. "Are you sure it's okay for you to play bartender instead of helping to fly the plane?" I asked.

"Relax," he smiled. "The old man has everything under control, besides we've been on auto-pilot since the wheels went up. My name is Rick, by the way. You're welcome to come up and sit in my seat if you want to fly the plane for a while."

"Me, fly the plane?"

"Girls can do anything these days. While I'm playing flight attendant, you can play pilot."

"Why not?" I heard myself say, and in my stocking feet I followed him into the cramped cockpit, where the middle-aged captain greeted me with hearty hello. I hiked up my skirt and hopped into the empty right-hand seat, then Rick strapped me in and put a set of headphones on my ears.

"Just don't touch anything, sweetheart," the captain said into his microphone. So much for flying the plane! I sat back awkwardly and watched as Rick pointed out the different instruments and reported on our flight speed, altitude and position. When he reached down to adjust one of the controls, his hand brushed against my knee, and it lingered there until Mom poked her head into the cockpit.

"Good Lord, what are you doing up here!"

"She's going a great job," Rick said. Then he disappeared into the cabin, with Mom two steps behind him. I looked down and realized that my skirt was clear up to my thighs, revealing a froth of lacy slip. When would I ever get used to these clothes? I tugged down my skirt and looked over at the captain, expecting to see him leering at me. Instead, was shocked to find him sound asleep in his seat! Sure enough, I could hear him snoring in my headphones.

I sensed someone coming up behind me. "Let me take these off your pretty little head," Rick said.

"He's asleep!" I whispered.

"Don't worry," Rick smiled. "If anything goes wrong, there are enough alarms in here to wake the dead. Better for him to rest up for the landing."

"But we just took off," I said.

"I'll take it for awhile, now that I'm done playing flight attendant. Dinner is served. I'll be back for dessert," he added, and before I could figure out what he meant, he leaned over and kissed me smack on the lips. Instinctively, I kissed him back, a long, lingering kiss that lit a fire in my panties. I treated him to a sensational leg show when I climbed out of his seat, and as I made my way out of the cockpit I remembered what one of my old girlfriends used to do to drive me wild, so I flipped up my skirt to show him my behind. That ought to keep him awake for a while, I said to myself.

Mom was waiting for me with an amused expression on her face. "If I didn't know better, I could swear that you have an interest in that young man," she said between sips of chardonnay.

"He's cute," I replied as I surveyed the sumptuous meal which Rick had placed on the table by my seat: lobster salad, chicken marsala, and key lime pie. "Wow, he can cook, too!"

"I suppose I should approve. After all, he's not married, so far as we know…."

"Just because Jacques has a mistress doesn't make him a bad person. No self-respecting man in France can exist without one," I pronounced, reverting to Madeline's Parisian accent.

"Thank God I had your flyboy open another bottle of wine," Mom sighed as she drained her glass and pulled the second bottle of chardonnay out of the ice bucket. Other than the occasional toast at a family gathering, I had never seen her drink, and was a bit of a shock to watch her getting tipsy. Then again, after her husband's death and her son's sex change, it was a miracle that she wasn't an alcoholic. I held out my glass, and soon we were both feeling no pain as we curled up in the luxurious seats after our delicious dinner. Mom took a little plastic case from her purse and tossed back a prescription sleeping pill. "I know I'm not supposed to mix these with alcohol, but your father used to do it all the time on business, and otherwise I'll never get to sleep. Would you care for one?"

For some reason, I declined, and before long Mom was sound asleep, with an eyeshade over her face and headphones pumping Montovani into her ears. I was sipping the last of the wine when Rick sauntered down the aisle from the cockpit. He knelt down beside me and took my face in his hands. "God, you're so beautiful," he said, then he kissed me again, a long, soulful kiss that started my toes tingling. I felt his hand sliding up my skirt, caressing my silky legs, and it took me a moment to realize that I was getting wet, a whole new sensation for me! Without a word, Rick took my hand and I followed him breathlessly towards the lavatory at the back of the plane. He opened the door, gently pushed me inside and closed and locked the door behind us. God, it was so cramped in there, there was barely room for us to move!

Rick started kissing the back of my neck, and I heard him unfastening his belt and unzipping his trousers, which fell to the floor. Then he pressed me against the mirror above the tiny sink and pulled up the back of my skirt and slip. I felt my panties and hose being tugged down to my knees, then he started exploring me with his finger, which got me so excited I thought I was going to come right there. Then he grabbed my hips hard with both hands and pushed himself inside me. I gave a little gasp as he pumped away with abandon, snarling with lust while he reached under my top and played with my tits. I tried not to moan too loud but it was so hard, as he pumped me again and again, harder and harder.

My eyes were glued to the mirror, and it was almost like an out-of-body experience, watching this total stranger, who last year might have been one of Matt's drinking buddies, and the girl who was now me clutching the front of her skirt and slip with both hands, her pink lips parted in ecstasy, her blonde hair damp with desire. When Rick told me he was about to come, it was almost an anticlimax when I felt him explode inside me. This was not a romantic seduction, it was an old-fashioned fucking, and even though I didn't come with him, it felt so damn good to have a man inside me!

We stood there for a few minutes, panting from the exertion, before he pulled up his trousers, zipped himself up, and returned to the cockpit after mumbling a few forgettable words of endearment. I squatted down on the miniature toilet, my head resting in my hands while I waited for his jism to drip out of me. I felt so wicked! Eventually I pulled myself together as best I could in the little lavatory, struggling as I stuffed my tits back into my bra, untwisted my hose and panties and straightened my slip and skirt.

With apprehension, I finally opened the door, wondering whether my mother might have discovered her daughter's dereliction. But she was still sound asleep, and I breathed a sign of relief as I wrapped a blanket around my legs and curled up in my seat. So much for becoming Momma's little girl! Well and truly fucked, I was soaring to new heights – as a fully frocked member of the mile high club. It took me a long time to fall into a restless sleep.

I was awakened a few minutes before landing by someone tugging on my blanket. "Strap yourself in, Maddy," Mom said urgently. "We're almost down."

I sat up with a start, and after a glance out my window at gray roofs peeking through leaden skies, I fastened my seatbelt and tried to do something with my compact, lipstick and brush. We landed with a bounce, and before we stopped taxiing, I unstrapped myself and raced into the lavatory to complete the repairs to my hair and makeup and relieve my aching bladder.

Squatting over the miniature toilet once again, it was hard to believe that a few hours earlier, I'd given it up to a total stranger in the same cramped compartment. What in the world was I coming to? With a sigh, I struggled back into my hose and panties, and by the time I brushed my teeth with the amenities provided on the airplane, Mom was waiting patiently at the door.

I apologized for taking so long. "That's the downside of having a daughter," she said with a wink. She gently untwisted and smoothed down my skirt before she took her turn in the lavatory.

Rick was sauntering down the aisle by the time I got back to my seat. He looked very pleased with himself, which only made me feel cheap and bitchy. "I hope you enjoyed your flight," he said with a smirk.

"Oh yes," I said with a forced smile. "Last night was a first for me."

"I'll bet. Welcome to the Mile High Club."

"And welcome to the Bi High Club," I replied.

"Huh?"

"I used to be a man," I whispered in Matt's old voice.

The blood raced from Rick's face, and he almost bowled Mom over on his way to the rear of the plane. We could both hear him retching violently as we gathered up our purses and hunted for our shoes. "How unusual," Mom observed. "I didn't know pilots got airsick." I shrugged with feigned disinterest as I stepped into my heels and followed her off the plane, down the stairs and into the cold French morning.

The gloomy weather brought back bittersweet memories of my first trip to Paris, a lifetime ago. Would that desperate young man on the run even recognize the wealthy woman he had become? At least she used to be wealthy! I was pondering this as we hurried across the tarmac into a well-appointed lounge to wait for our suitcases. After a cursory inspection of our passports by an unctuous civil servant, I was surprised when Mom handed me an envelope and told me to sit down.

"What's going on?" I asked her.

"I'm leaving you now," she said. Before I could protest, she pressed on. "I love you with all my heart, even more as a daughter than as a son, but a young woman should have space to spread her wings, and the last thing she needs is her mother looking over her shoulder. In that envelope you will find the number and password for an account I've opened for you at a bank in Geneva. It's for the same amount of money that you donated to those fraud victims in Chicago."

"I don't understand…why are you doing this?"

"Your life is here now, and a private jet was the best way to get you through customs and immigration. I'm sorry I led you on about wanting to live in France, but it was the only way I could think of to get you on that plane."

"But what are you going to do?"

"I'm booked in first class on a flight back to Chicago this afternoon. Your life may be here, but my life is there, and I could never abandon your brothers or my grandchildren. I hope you'll let me visit you again soon, and often…April in Paris?" she asked as she got up to go.

Tears were streaming down our faces as we hugged each other. "Mom, I get all that, but why do you have to leave so soon?"

"I think it's best that I return to Chicago before your friends in the FBI discover I'm gone and get suspicious."

I hadn't thought about that, and I knew she was right. "Thanks for the money," I stammered.

"I'm only giving you what's rightfully yours. Now that I have the daughter I always wanted, I only wish I could take her shopping for dresses again," she said with a wry smile. "At least now you know your deep, dark secret, and I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me."

I hugged her again. "I love being your daughter, Mom. I just wish we didn't have to say goodbye."

"Don't worry, I've become quite the computer expert in my old age, and I'll send you an email with an address you can use without worrying about anyone tracing us. You'll have to tell me how it goes with Jacques. After the spectacle you made of yourself with your flyboy last night, I'm warming up to him." Before I could sputter a denial, she said, "A mother has eyes in the back of her head. Someday, if you become one, you'll know what I mean." And with that, she kissed me on the cheek, nodded to her waiting chauffeur, and was gone.

I felt terribly alone as I watched them drive away. Of course, I knew my mother was right. My world was here now, and I had my whole life ahead of me. The immediate question was whether I'd be able to reclaim my place in Jacques' life, and without hesitation I retrieved my Paris cell phone from my luggage and placed a call to his office. His officious secretary put me through to him at once.

"Madeline, where are you?"

"In Paris."

"I see."

"Jacques, I've behaved terribly and I wanted you to know that I'll never forgive myself." No response. "If you haven't already cleared my things out of the apartment, I can do it this afternoon," I said despondently.

"That won't be necessary, cheri. Your things are just as you left them. Why don't you go back to the apartment, take a nice warm bath, and put on your prettiest dress for lunch at Le Relais."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Really? Oh Jacques, I have so much to tell you! You won't believe what I learned about myself…."

"As I've said many times, you never cease to surprise and delight me. I'll clear my schedule for the afternoon."

By the author of The Jessica Project