The Will
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
Female detective is thrust into a deadly contest

NOTE: Sara the detective and Melanie the ex-assassin appear in some of my
earlier stories, including Assassin by Night, Murder Mystery Cruise, and
Melanie's Dark Secret.

Sara Ramos smiled happily as she headed through the parking lot to her car.
The police detective had just received her promotion to lieutenant.  She
reached into her pocket for her cell phone and dialed the number of her 
best friend, Melanie O'Connor.

"Hey, Mel," she said. "Guess who's a lieutenant now?" Sara grinned as she
heard her friend's excited shout on the other end. "Congratulations," said
Melanie.

"Thanks," said Sara. "Charlie Peters got promoted to captain, so an opening
came up.  There were four other candidates and the chief said it was pretty
close.  But I made it!"

"Let's celebrate," said Melanie. "How about that new steakhouse on Eighth
Avenue?"

"Sounds great," answered Sara. "I'll meet you there at six."

Arriving at her apartment, Sara plopped her things on the bed and looked 
over at the answering machine.  The red light was blinking.  She pressed 
the button.

"Hello, Miss Ramos," came an unfamiliar male voice. "My name is Frank Hill.
I represent the estate of Daniel Conway.  I have an important matter that
requires your attention.  Please come to Mr. Conway's residence at 4339 
Maple Avenure at 2:00 this Saturday.  The matter of which I speak is...
unique, to say the least, so please be there.  Thank you for your
cooperation."

Sara stared at the machine, a puzzled look on her pretty face.  The name
of Daniel Conway was familiar to her.  He was a smuggler and drug dealer
who had made a fortune through his illegal activities.  Several years ago,
she had been a major player in the case against him - tracking him down,
arresting him, and building a case against him.  She and her colleagues had
done everything they could, but at Conway's trial, his slick, high-priced
lawyers had managed to get him acquitted of the three counts of murder he
had been charged with.  He had only been convicted of a couple of lesser
charges and sentenced to five years in prison.  He served his time and had
been released a couple of years ago.  Just three days ago, Sara had read in
the newspaper that Conway had died peacefully in his sleep.  Now that he 
was dead, she wondered what his estate had to do with her.

She shrugged, deciding to hold off her curiosity until Saturday.  She then
began rummaging in her closet for a nice dress to wear to the restaurant.

That Saturday, Sara pulled into the large driveway of 4339 Maple Avenue at
three minutes before two.  She noticed five other cars also parked in the
driveway.  The house itself was a large, impressive two-story one, painted
white.  Well-kept gardens surrounded the mansion, and a fountain sprayed
water into the air in front of the house.  Sara shook her head.  In Daniel
Conway's case, sadly, crime had paid.

She got out of her car and headed towards the front door of the mansion,
her firm, hard butt swaying seductively as she walked.  Her black knee-
length skirt showed off her muscular calves, and the sleeves of her white
blouse were rolled up, displaying her strong forearms.  Her shoulder-length
dark brown hair framed her attractive oval face.  At 5'7" and 132 pounds,
she was slender enough to have that slim, athletic look, but also big 
enough to have the muscle to kick some major ass when dealing with violent
perps.

Sara opened the front door, entering a fancy-looking hallway.  A door was
open to her right. "In here, Miss Ramos," came a voice that she recognized
as the one that had left the message on her answering machine.

She entered a large living room.  There were four men in business suits and
one woman in a red dress standing around talking.  Sara glanced at them one
by one.  The first man was short and stocky, with dark hair. She recognized
him as Ben Whitman, the district attorney who had prosecuted Conway.  She
didn't know the second man, who was tall, husky, and had a scowl on his 
face.  The third man, who was skinny, bald, and wearing glasses, she didn't
recognize either.  However, she saw that the fourth man was Joseph Eckerd,
who had been the judge who had sentenced Conway. Eckerd was tall and white-
haired.  As for the woman, Sara had no idea who she was.  She was about 
Sara's height and athletic-looking, with long black hair.

"Good.  We're all here now.  We can begin," said the bald man in a familiar
voice.

The scowling man looked pointedly at Sara. "You're late," he said.

Sara laughed and looked at her watch. "It's one minute before two," she 
said. "I'm not late." The scowling man was about to respond when he was
interrupted by the bald man.

"Never mind that," said the bald man. "We have more important things to
discuss." He cleared his throat. "My name is Frank Hill," he said. "I'm the
attorney in charge of Mr. Conway's estate.  Now, I'm sure you're all
wondering why I asked you to come here today, but first, since we don't all
know each other, I'll introduce each of you.  This is Ben Whitman, district
attorney.  Joseph Eckerd, judge.  Sara Ramos, detective." Frank then nodded
at the woman in the red dress. "Julia Kerrigan, Mr. Conway's ex-wife."
Finally, the lawyer came to the scowling man. "Mike Sanderson," he said.

The name clicked in Sara's mind.  Mike Sanderson was a crime boss who ran a
drug and smuggling operation of his own.  He and Conway had been bitter 
rivals.  Sanderson had spent time in prison years ago.  Now, he insisted he
was going straight, but it was widely suspected that he was continuing with
his criminal operations.  However, no one could collect enough evidence
against him to bring him in.

"Now, for the main event," said Frank. "The reading of Mr. Conway's will."

Everyone looked at each other, puzzled.  The people in the room were a
collection of Conway's worst enemies.  Why would he want to leave anything 
to them?

Frank read from a piece of paper. "I, Daniel Conway, declare that my house
and the grounds surrounding it are to be turned into a museum to celebrate
the acquistion of wealth through drive and determination." Sara chuckled
when she heard that.

The attorney went on. "In a safe-deposit box, there is the cash element of
my fortune, to the tune of twenty million dollars.  I decree that this money
shall be divided equally among the following people: Joseph Eckerd, Julia
Kerrigan, Sara Ramos, Mike Sanderson, and Ben Whitman.  The money is to be
paid two weeks after the reading of this will." The lawyer paused and a
nervous look appeared on his face.  He continued reading from the piece of 
paper. "There is just one more thing.  If any of the aforementioned 
beneficiaries should meet their untimely demise before the two weeks are up, 
then the shares of the fortune of the surviving beneficiaries will increase 
proportionately.  That is all.  Good luck.  You'll need it.  Ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha...It goes on like this, lots more ha has." The five beneficiaries 
stared at each other, looks of understanding (and shock) spreading across
their faces. 

"It's now open season on every one of us," said Julia softly.

Joseph spoke up. "So that was Conway's motive.  Revenge.  Well, it won't
work on me.  I'm having no part of this ridiculous will. I don't care about
the money.  I'm opting out."

"You're not allowed to do that," said Frank sadly. "There's no opting out of
this contract.  Mr. Conway made very sure of that."

"Come on, let's be sensible here," said Ben. "Twenty million divided among
the five of us.  That's four million dollars each.  That's plenty of money
and there's no need for us to go killing each other for more."

"Ben's right," said Sara. "We're all capable of acting like rational adults.
There's no need for any of us to act like a barbarian." She noticed Mike
giving her a dark look.  She knew he was a dangerous criminal, and she knew
nothing at all about Julia.  Both of them could be big trouble.  She patted
her skirt to make sure that the gun she had strapped to her thigh under it
was still there.  She noticed Julia looking at her with an odd smile on her
pretty face.

"So is this it?" asked Mike, in a tone that indicated that he wanted to go
home and start giving orders to his henchmen to knock off his rivals.

"That's it," said Frank. "There's crackers, cheese, and fruit on the table
back there if anyone's hungry."

No one was hungry.

As everyone began leaving, Julia walked up to Sara. "Gun under the skirt?"
she asked with a wink.

"Oh, fuck," groaned Sara. "I thought I was being inconspicuous about patting
it."

"You were," said Julia. "But I see everything."

"Let me guess," said Sara suddenly. "Gun strapped to your thigh under that 
red dress?"

Now it was Julia's turn to groan.  She recovered quickly, however. "You're 
a good detective.  Not many people make lieutenant at your age."

Sara stared. "But you just met me today! How did you know about that?"

Julia grinned wickedly. "I not only see everything, I know everything. Good
luck." She was still grinning as she left.

Sara pulled her hair in frustration as she watched the vixen in the red 
dress depart.  Then she managed a smile and patted her gun again. "She may
have beat me in a battle of wits this time, but I'm sure I can outshoot 
her," she thought to herself.

Mike passed by.  He was several inches taller than Sara and scowled as he
looked down at her. "Good luck, girlie," he sneered. "You'll need it."

"Watch that broad back of yours," she called after him.  She smiled as she
heard him growl.

Sara then went out to her car and drove off.  She was forming a plan, with
logical, methodical steps to be taken.

Step one. Make sure no one is following me and drive to a safe place. Good,
done.  Step two.  Call Melanie.  Having a lethal ex-assassin as your best
friend could come in very handy.

Sara told her friend all about what had just transpired.  When she was
finished, Melanie asked, "So who do you want me to bump off first?"

Sara laughed. "Good one, Mel.  Um, you are kidding, right? You're not in 
that business anymore.  Right?"

"Of course I'm kidding," said Melanie. "But seriously, you should come stay
with me until the two weeks are up."

"I wouldn't want to impose..." said Sara.

"Um, Sara, I live alone in a four-bedroom house," Melanie laughed. "It
wouldn't be imposing at all."

"Thanks, Mel," said the detective. "I have some business at the station and
I'll have to pack some things, so I'll be over sometime this evening."

Now for step three. Go to the police station and dig up as much information
as possible on Julia Kerrigan, and try to find out how she knows so much
about everything.  Also, pull up the file on Mike Sanderson.  Also, just to
be on the safe side, check the records of Joseph Eckerd and Ben Whitman to
make sure they don't have any skeletons in their closets.

On the way to the station, Sara decided to stop off at home to pack, 
reasoning that if someone was trying to kill her, right now they wouldn't
have had the time yet to set any traps at her place.  Still, as she
approached her apartment, she drew her gun from underneath her skirt, 
checking everything carefully.  Finding it safe for the moment, she quickly
threw some necessities into a large duffel bag.  She tossed the bag onto
the front passenger seat of the car and continued on to the police station.

At the station, Sara looked at Mike's file first.  There was nothing of
importance that she didn't already know.  Disappointed, she moved on to Ben
and Joseph.  She knew both of them slightly from court when she had had to
testify in cases.  She discovered that they both had excellent records.
Finally, she looked up Julia.  Although Julia had no criminal record, there
was some information about her in Daniel Conway's file.  It said that Julia
was a cold, ruthless woman who was capable of stooping to any tactic to get
what she wanted.  Sara gulped as she read this and patted her gun again.
After that, she went to see her boss, Captain Peters. She quietly explained
the extraordinary situation and managed to get an emergency leave for the
next two weeks.  She also asked the captain not to tell anyone the real
reason for her leave, feeling that the fewer people who knew about the
situation, the better.

She then hurried out to her car and started for Melanie's.  She took the 
long way there and looked in her rearview mirror constantly to make sure
that she wasn't being followed.  She even went so far as to scan the car
before she left to make sure there weren't any homing devices attached to
it.  Everything was clean.

Sara looked at the car clock.  It was 5:35 in the afternoon. The first part
of her drive was through heavy traffic, and she drummed her fingers 
impatiently, eager to get to Melanie's house.  Finally, the traffic cleared
and she speeded up as she drove along a lonely back road.  She glanced over
at the car clock again, wondering how much time had passed while she had 
been stuck in traffic.  A puzzled look appeared on her face.  The car clock 
was blinking 12:00, on and off.  Was the battery dead? But the car was still 
running fine.

Suddenly, she remembered something she had seen on a TV show once.  A look 
of horror appeared on her face.  She slammed on the brakes and the car
screeched to a stop.  Even before it had stopped completely, however, she
had snatched her bag, yanked open the door, and tumbled out of the vehicle.
Getting up, she raced across the road and dove behind a boulder.

KA-BOOM! The car exploded.  Pieces of metal, glass, and rubber flew into 
the air and came crashing back down.  Sara gasped, thankful to be alive.
Whoever doing this is good, she thought.  And fast.  How had her scan of
the car failed to detect the bomb? The clock, she decided.  The bomb must
have been set on a timer, which would mean that no signal would be sent
out the way a remote-controlled bomb would have one.  With no signal, there
would be no way to detect it.

Ten minutes later, the place was swarming with police cars.  After Sara
explained the events of the day, an officer declared, "You really should
have police protection."

"I've thought of that," she said. "But wouldn't that mean you'd have to
provide protection for all the people in the will? Even Mike? You have no
idea who's an innocent victim and who's trying to kill his or her rivals.
Hell, for all we know everybody might end up trying to kill everybody else.
If you pick and choose who to protect, then whoever's unprotected is likely
to get killed, and if you protect everyone, then whichever officers are
protecting the would-be murderer or murderers are likely to get killed."

"You've got a point there, Lieutenant," said the officer. "But what are you
going to do?"

"I have a friend I can hide out with until the two weeks are up," said Sara.
"I suggest you encourage Judge Eckerd and D.A. Whitman to take similiar
precautions if they haven't done so already.  And keep a very close eye on
Mike Sanderson and Julia Kerrigan. I'm 99% sure that one of them was behind
bombing my car."

The officer nodded in agreement.  Sara then called Melanie on her cell 
phone.  Melanie was horrified when she heard what had happened and promised
to drive right over to pick her up.

Ten minutes later, Melanie arrived.  She was an attractive woman with 
shoulder-length blonde hair and a muscular, athletic body similar to Sara's.
At 5'9" and 135 pounds, she was just a little taller than the brunette
detective.

The two friends quickly drove off.  On the way to Melanie's house, Sara told 
her friend the details of the incident.

"You are one smart babe," said the blonde, when Sara was finished. "How did
you know that there was a bomb when the car clock started blinking? Hell, 
even I wouldn't have known that!"

"Well, it was mostly a luck thing," replied the brunette. "When the clock
started blinking, I suddenly remembered this episode of the X-Files.  There
was this guy named Krycek, who was riding in this car with some other guys.
They stopped at this convenience store and the other guys all got out and
went into the store.  Then, Krycek noticed the car clock blinking 12:00, 
and he jumped out of the car and ran away just in time to avoid getting 
blown up when the car exploded."

"Wow," said Melanie. "For once, TV is accurate!" They both laughed.  Then,
Melanie gave Sara's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm so glad you're okay," she said.
Sara smiled at her friend.

At her house, Melanie showed Sara into one of the unused bedrooms.  Sara
quickly unpacked the meager belongings she had brought (and luckily saved
from the explosion).  She then called the police station, and was relieved
to hear that D.A. Whitman and Judge Eckerd had both also been granted
temporary leaves from their jobs, and were hiding at friends' houses.

The evening and night passed uneventfully.  Sara, despite her worries,
managed to sleep soundly.  She awoke the next morning to the sound of pans
and utensils clanging in the kitchen.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," said Melanie as Sara came down the stairs.
Although both women were in their robes, their hair was messed up, and 
neither had on makeup, they still looked hot.  There were pancakes and
bacon ready on the table.

"Thanks, Mel," said Sara.  She picked up the newspaper and sat down at the
table.  Suddenly, a look of shock appeared on her face.

"What's wrong?" asked Melanie.  Wordlessly, Sara tossed the paper to her
friend.  Melanie caught it and looked at an article on the bottom of the
front page.  It read:

LOCAL JUDGE FOUND MURDERED

Late last night, authorities discovered the body of long-time judge Joseph
Eckerd.  Judge Eckerd's body was found on the front steps of the friend's
house at which he was staying.  There were two bullets in the judge's chest.
At this time, police spokesman Captain Charles Peters says that he does not
have any suspects...

"Oh, my God!" said Melanie. "If whoever did it could find Eckerd at his
friend's house, then they could find you here!"

Sara thought for a moment. "I doubt it," she said. "I don't think the judge
took as many precautions as I did.  Still, we can't be too careful."

"Should we warn Whitman?" asked Melanie. "Or do you think there's a chance
that he could be the murderer?"

"I really don't think so," said Sara. "Still, Whitman reads the newspaper
too.  I'm sure he'll see this article without our having to warn him."

Although both women were worried, the next several days passed without
incident.  However, about a week later, at breakfast, Melanie nudged Sara,
pointing to an article in the newspaper.  This one was on page four.

LOCAL D.A. SAFE AFTER ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT

County district attorney Benjamin Whitman survived an attempt on his life
late last night.  As he and a friend were returning to the friend's home, a
car pulled up and a gunman fired several shots at them.  Both Whitman and
his friend were unharmed.  The vehicle sped away, but the driver and gunman
were later captured by police.  Although the suspects are refusing to talk,
police believe that they were hired by crime boss Michael Sanderson.  
Whitman has been moved to a safe house in an undisclosed location...

"They found him too," said Sara slowly.

"At least he's okay," responded Melanie.  She looked around apprehensively.
"Do you think we should try hiding somewhere else?"

The detective thought for a minute. "No," she said finally. "There's no 
sign that any of our enemies know we're here.  And if they could find Judge
Eckerd and D.A. Whitman at their hidden locations, they'd probably be able
to find me at wherever we went off to."

"What about doing like Whitman did, and getting official protection at a 
safe house?" asked the blonde.

Sara smiled. "Mel, a professional assassin like you is better protection
than any feds could be." At that comment, Melanie smiled and blushed.

That afternoon, Captain Peters called Sara and asked her to come down to
the station for a special meeting.  She drove there in Melanie's car,
insisting to her friend that she would be all right alone.  When Sara got
to the station and went into Captain Peters' office, she was surprised to
see District Attorney Ben Whitman waiting there. "I'll leave you two to
talk in private," said the captain, leaving the room.

"Look, I'll get right to the point," said Whitman.  His hair was rumpled,
his shirt was wrinkled, and he looked like he hadn't had a good night's
sleep in days. "I'm getting out of the country and I'm not coming back
until the time specified in the will is up.  I know that Mike Sanderson
hired those guys to kill me, and Julia Kerrigan's probably plotting to kill
me too.  Both of them are probably plotting to kill both of us.  This is
getting too rough for me.  If you want, you can come to Mexico with me.
That's why I invited you here.  There's an armored limousine with a police
escort ready to take us to the airport."

"Ben, if that's what you feel is best, then do it," said Sara. "But I'm
going to stay right here.  I'm not going to let Mike or Julia bully and
threaten me away.  I'm taking full precautions and my friend and I are doing
everything we can for safety."

"If that's how you feel, then that's how you feel," Whitman said. "I'd feel
a lot better if you joined me, but I guess you've made up your mind." He
stood up and shook the detective's hand. "Good luck," he said.

"You too," she responded.  The two of them then went outside.  A big black
limousine was waiting in the parking lot.  Whitman waved goodbye to Sara,
then got into the vehicle.  The limo drove off, escorted by two police
motorcycles.

Sara wistfully watched them go.  She then went over to where she had parked
Melanie's car.  She took out her scanner and quickly checked for any homing
devices, not really expecting to find anything.

"Beeeeeep," went the scanner in a low tone.  Sara stared, then ran it over
again.  An identical beep sounded.  They had actually done it! Someone had 
put a homing device on her car!  

She thought about what to do.  She could remove it right here, and keep
whoever it was waiting and waiting, thinking that she was still at the 
police station.  Or, on the way back to Melanie's, she could simply toss
the device off on the way, leading her enemies off on a wild goose chase.
However, another idea entered her mind.  She wanted to trap them.  She
wanted to find out who it was.

Leaving the homing device attached to the car, Sara got in and began driving.
She called Melanie on her cell phone and explained what the situation was,
then told her the plan.

Instead of driving to Melanie's house, Sara drove to an old, abandoned, and
isolated farmhouse that she and Melanie both knew.  She parked the car in
the driveway and walked up to the old, creaky front door.  She stepped inside
the house and waited.

The plan was not without some risk - she was hoping that Melanie would get
there before her pursuers did.  She had calculated the risk, knowing that the
farmhouse was close to where Melanie lived, and also knowing that the 
pursuers would stay far enough behind not to be seen, relying on their homing
device instead.  She had decided it was an acceptable risk.

"But still a risk," she thought to herself as she looked at her watch.  She
had no way of knowing how many people were coming after her.  If it was just
two or three, she could handle them, but what if they came after her with 
half a dozen? Having her friend to back her up would be very helpful.

Sara sighed with relief when she saw Melanie pulling into the driveway in her
second car.  She waved to the blonde from the window.  Melanie quickly joined
Sara inside.  She patted the gun she was wearing in a holster.  Sara smiled 
and responded by patting her own gun. "Thanks for doing this, Mel," she said.

"No problem," said Melanie.  They both ducked low inside the old house and
waited.

About five minutes later, a black Mercedes pulled into the driveway of the
farmhouse.  Sara and Melanie readied themselves for action.  Two men, both 
dressed in dark suits and both carrying guns, got out of the vehicle. "Well,
I guess I should say I'm sorry for bothering you over this," whispered Sara.
"There's only two of them."

"This is an adventure for me," Melanie whispered back. "I need some 
excitement in my life."

One of the men approached the front door.  The other circled around to the
back.  Melanie quietly slipped towards the back of the house to intercept the
second man.  Sara remained covering the front.

The man entering the house from the rear kicked open the back door, gun in 
hand. "Here, little piggy," he called out.  He stopped short when he saw
Melanie. "Who the hell are you?" he scowled.

"I'm Sara's friend," she answered calmly.

He let out a growl and began aiming his gun at her.  Melanie, however, was 
much too fast for him.  Before he could pull the trigger, she had aimed her
own gun at him and shot him in the head.

The other thug, hearing the shot, charged forward into the house, running 
right past Sara's hiding place. As he ran by, she launched a perfectly timed
kick that sent the gun flying out of his hand.  She kicked him in the head,
stunning him, then jammed her own gun into his back. 

"Hands on your head and march," she ordered.  She marched him to the back of
the house, where the corpse of the thug's companion was lying in an 
undignified position on the floor, a bloody hole in its head.  Melanie stood
over the body, her face calm and expressionless and her gun still smoking.
The thug stared in shock when he saw his friend's dead corpse.

Sara spun him around and shoved him into an old chair, keeping her gun 
trained on him. "Now, who sent you?" she demanded.  The man scowled, 
remaining silent.

She nodded at the corpse. "Do you want to end up like him?" she asked. "Or
perhaps you'd like to experience the...methods of my friend here," she
continued, indicating Melanie.  

The blonde gave the thug a cold smile and reached into her pocket.  She 
pulled out a small but wicked-looking knife.  Kneeling down close to his 
crotch, she pressed it against his genitals. "How attached are you to Nut A
and Nut B?" she asked. "Because if you don't start talking, you're going to
find yourself a little unattached from them."

The man suddenly wet his pants.  Melanie jumped back in disgust, making a
face.  Sara couldn't help giggling a little.  Melanie gave her a dark look.

"All right, all right!" said the thug, extremely humiliated at being captured
by two women and wetting his pants. "Mike Sanderson sent us!"

"Surprise, surprise," muttered Sara.  She asked, "Where is Sanderson now?"

"Back at his house, I guess," he responded.

Ten minutes later, the thug was on his way to jail, while Sara and a bunch of
other police officers were on their way to Mike Sanderson's house.  She
couldn't wait for this whole thing with the will to be over.  Unfortunately 
for her, however, when they got to Sanderson's house, she found that this
situation still had some time to run.

The police kicked open the door of Sanderson's mansion. "Freeze! Police! We
have a warrant!" But there was no response.  Everything was strangely quiet.
Everyone looked at each other, puzzled.  Was there any way Sanderson and his
gang could have known they were coming?

Suddenly, one of the police officers called out. "In here!" he said, 
indicating a study.  Inside the study were the corpses of two men.  One had 
a bullet hole in his head, and the other had a broken neck. "I recognize
these guys from the files," murmured Sara, as she stared at the dead bodies.
"They're two of Sanderson's henchmen."

They quickly searched the whole house.  They found several more bodies, each
of which had been shot, stabbed, or had its neck broken.  Sara recognized
some of them from the crime files as more of Sanderson's men, but Sanderson
himself was nowhere to be found.  Some of the younger officers were looking
rather queasy at the sight of so many corpses.

Suddenly, a groaning sound was heard.  Everyone hurried towards the source 
of the noise.  Near the back door, a wounded man was lying on the floor,
bleeding from a bullet wound in his chest.  Sara recognized him as another 
of Sanderson's henchmen. "What happened here?" she asked.

"It...was so fast," groaned the man in a strained voice. "Suddenly, out of
nowhere...death...some of us...back door...to escape...lucky you came...
killer scared off...was going to finish the job...ohhhh..."

"Who?" demanded Sara. "Who did this?"

The man was about to lose consciousness, but he muttered two words before he
did. "Red...dress." He then slumped down with a groan.

"Red dress.  Julia Kerrigan," muttered Sara.  She bent over the man and felt
for a pulse, then turned to the policeman next to her. "He's still alive.
Sergeant, call an ambulance for this guy. And put out APBs on Mike Sanderson
and Julia Kerrigan.  Sanderson must have been one of the guys who got away
out the back door."

"Yes, ma'am," said the sergeant.  Sara turned to leave. "Where are you going
now?" he asked.

"I need the help of a friend," was all she said as she left.

Sara hurried straight back to Melanie's house and told her friend everything
that had transpired. "This chick is good," said Sara. "Sanderson had lots of
guards and a high-tech security system, and because of what's happening he
must have been on extra alert.  For Julia to have gotten in and killed all
those men under those circumstances...well, ouch."

"Damn," said Melanie. "She might be better than me!"

"She won't be better than both of us," said Sara, trying to sound confident.

Suddenly, there came a thumping sound from outside.  A second later, all the
lights went out.  The two women stared in alarm. "Julia? Already?" said
Melanie.

"Probably not," said Sara. "More likely Sanderson and his goons. Cutting off
the lights gives us a warning, and Julia's too clever for that." She peeked 
out the front window.  Four men were illuminated in the evening moonlight.
"Yep.  Sanderson and three of his men," she reported.  Peeking out again, 
she saw two of them circle around to the back. "Same plan as the farmhouse,"
she whispered. "I'll cover the front, you cover the back."

Sara crouched behind a couch in the living room.  A few moments later, Mike
Sanderson entered through the front door, followed by a fat henchman.  They 
both carried pistols.

With a Xena-like warrior cry, Sara launched herself through the air and 
landed a flying kick on Sanderson's back that impacted with brutal force.
The impact knocked the gang boss into his henchman.  Both of them fell to
the floor, their guns sailing loose.  As the fat man tried to get up, she
sent him back down with a knee to the face.  She then turned to Sanderson
and kicked him in the head.

Meanwhile, the two other henchmen had come in through the back door.  The 
one in the lead was tall and thin, while the second one was bearded and 
wearing glasses.  Like the other two thugs, they both carried pistols.

Melanie, who had been hiding near the back door, made her move.  Stepping 
out between the men with a seductive smile, she did a fast crescent kick
that knocked the gun out of the bearded man's hand.  Before the thin man
could turn around, she fired a vicious side kick into him, sending him to
the ground.  His gun fell from his hand as he went down and clattered
across the floor.

The bearded man swung a punch at Melanie as she turned back to face him.
She dodged and smashed her left fist into his nose, then drove her right
into his jaw.  The impacts slammed the thug against the wall.  He shook 
his head dizzily.  How could a slender, pretty blonde punch that hard? He
shook his head again and growled. "I'm bigger than her.  She just got 
lucky," he thought to himself, trying to build up his confidence.  He tried 
kicking her, but she danced out of the way easily with a fluid and graceful
motion.  She then performed a kick of her own, a cheerleader-style high 
kick to his face that knocked him to the floor.

The fat man grabbed Sara from behind. "I've got her, boss!" he called out.
Sanderson got up and approached her to attack, but her kick to his chest
sent him flying back.  She then swung her head backwards, impacting the fat
henchman's head.  As he cried out in pain, she broke loose and drove her
elbow backward into his gut. She followed that up with a powerful back kick
that sent her opponent flying through the air. He landed on the couch in an
undignified position.

Sanderson approached Sara, his trademark scowl on his face. "You've been in
my way for too long," he growled.  He swung a big punch at her face.  She
avoided it easily by ducking.  The gang boss swung another punch, which she
blocked with her thick forearm.  He tried a third punch, but this time she
grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully. "You just can't get it right, can
you?" she taunted him.  With that, she punched him hard in the stomach.  As
he doubled over in pain, she released his arm and punched him right in the 
eye, then knocked him down with a strong and sexy roundhouse kick to the 
side of his head.

The thin man climbed back to his feet and put up his fists, boxing-style. 
"Bring it on, blondie," he snarled at Melanie. The blonde woman grinned and 
fired a vicious kick into his groin.  He fell to his knees, clutching his 
wounded family jewels. "Is a girl too tough for a pussy like you?" she
smirked.  As he let out a moan in response, she sent a brutal soccer kick
into his side, knocking him down completely.  A sharp noise, accompanied by
a howl of pain, indicated the cracking of one of his ribs from the blonde
Amazon's wicked kick.  She began kicking him repeatedly in the head. "Don't
(kick) fuck (kick) with (kick) my (kick) friend (kick), and (kick) don't
(kick) fuck (kick) with (kick) me!" When she was finished, she saw that she
had knocked him out.

"ARRRRR!" With a growl, the bearded man suddenly tackled Melanie from
behind. As she hit the floor, she cursed at herself for allowing him to get
the drop on her. "I feel so blonde," she thought.  The thug, on top of her,
tried to punch her in the face, but she grabbed his arm and twisted it 
before the attack could land.  She then headbutted him viciously and leapt
back to her feet.  She sent her opponent several feet backwards with a
powerful kick.  He groaned and climbed back up slowly.

The fat man got up from the couch and charged Sara. "ARRRRRRRR - oof!" His
attack was stopped abruptly as the brunette detective pivoted and launched
a strong side kick into his chest.  She approached him, grinning wickedly.
WHAM! She slammed her knee into his fat gut. POW! She punched him hard in
the jaw.  The sound of more heavy impacts followed as she pummeled the
thug's face with her talented fists.  She finally paused and examined the 
fat henchman's bloody face with a satisfied smile.  She then performed a
powerful standing back handspring.  As she flipped, her boots plowed into
his jaw with amazing force.  She landed perfectly on her feet, while her
opponent landed in an undignified position on the couch again, this time
knocked out cold.

Melanie and the bearded man were circling each other, fists raised.  She
easily blocked his attempted punch, then nailed him with a punch to his
ugly face.  She followed it up by punching him repeatedly in the stomach.
As she pummeled him, she taunted, "How (punch) does (punch) it (punch) 
feel (punch), getting (punch) pounded (punch) by (punch) a (punch) skinny
(punch) chick?" When she was finished, the bearded henchman looked ready
to throw up.  She remembered the thug at the old farmhouse wetting his
pants right in front of her.  Not wanting another experience like that,
she performed a powerful front flip kick on him, knocking the man to the
floor.  He groaned, then began getting slowly to his feet, very dizzy.  He
stared at the blonde, a look of amazement and fear on his face. "Gymnastic
talent comes in very handy in fights," she smirked. She prepared her final
kick. "Say good night," she said.  With that, she launched a brutal spin
kick that slammed into the side of his head.  He fell to the floor,
unconscious.

Sanderson stumbled to his feet.  Sara smiled and greeted him with a punch
to his nose.  He yelped in pain, then looked around.  His fat henchman was
lying unconscious on the couch, and through a doorway he could see his
other two goons on the floor near the back of the house, also out cold. He
also saw Melanie approaching.  She paused across the room from him, gave
him a cold smile, and crossed her muscular arms in front of her.  A look 
of panic appeared on his face. "Please don't kill me!" he said.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Don't wet your pants," she said.  She and Melanie
shared a laugh. "I'm not going to kill you," she continued. "However, you
do need to be taught a lesson." With that, she delivered a powerful high
kick to his jaw with her left leg. She then balanced on her left leg while
firing repeated high kicks to his face with her right.  Finally, a 
particularly strong kick sent him to the floor with a groan.  

Melanie looked at her friend and smiled. "You're a pretty good teacher,"
she said as she looked at Sanderson in his position on the floor.

"Thanks, Mel," said Sara.  She went over to the gang boss and turned him
over.  Sitting on his chest, she looked at his face, which was bruised and
bloodied from the repeated impacts of her powerful high kicks.  She then 
gave his face a hard slap. "Open your eyes, big boy," she said.

Mike Sanderson groaned again and opened his eyes.  He felt Sara sitting on
him.  She wasn't that heavy, but he could feel her strength and power.

"Now, I have some questions for you," said the detective. "I trust that
you'll cooperate?"

"Okay, okay," grumbled Sanderson.

"Good," said Sara. "First, how did you know I was here?"

"One of my men left me a note with this address," he answered. "I don't
know how he got it."

The brunette woman nodded. "Now, Judge Eckerd was murdered, and D.A.
Whitman and I both had attempts made on our lives. What do you know about
those?"

"I didn't do it!" said Sanderson. "Okay, I admit sending a couple of men
after Ben Whitman, and I sent some more to get you at the farmhouse, and
then I came here.  But I didn't murder the judge! Julia Kerrigan must 
have done it.  That psycho bitch somehow slipped past my security and 
killed most of my men! When I find her, I'm going to..."

"It'll be kind of hard for you to find her while you're locked up in 
jail," Sara interrupted him. "But don't worry, I believe you when you 
say you weren't behind the killing of the judge.  You and your gang are
much too clumsy to pull off a job that well.  I'm also going to believe
that Julia was the one who bombed my car.  Rigging that up took an
intelligence far beyond what you or any of your men have."

Sanderson opened his mouth to say something, but it never came out.  Just
as he was about to speak, a bullet slammed into his head.  Sara, still
sitting on him, had her white blouse splattered with blood and brain 
matter.  Sara, Melanie, and the fat henchman (who had just regained
consciousness) looked up in shock.

Julia Kerrigan stood in the front doorway.  Her sexy red dress showed off
her slim but muscular body.  Her long black hair framed her face, which
still looked attractive despite the cold smirk on it.  And in her right
hand, she held a large handgun, smoke coming from the muzzle. "Mind if I
join the party?" she said, her face twisting into a sneer.

Julia stepped into the house and looked at all the others in the room.
"Fools, pathetic fools, all of you," she taunted. "I've been waiting and
listening outside for the past ten minutes." She waved her gun at the
thugs. "Did you really think these idiots were smart enough to track you
here? I was the one who found where you were hiding, Sara! I left that
note for Mike Sanderson to find! I just followed these morons here and
hid outside and listened to the fireworks."

The lethal vixen let out a chilling laugh. "What a bunch of pussies you
all are.  I'm the only one who's man enough, I mean woman enough, to 
deserve the money.  You men are so weak you got your butts kicked by a
couple of girls.  And you two" - she pointed at Sara and Melanie - "were
too weak to kill off Mikey-boy when you had the chance."

"My courage and strength will get me the money," Julia ranted.  Sara 
rolled her eyes. "I bumped off that stupid old judge," Julia continued.
"I killed most of Mike Sanderson's goon squad all on my own.  And I
laughed when I heard about their pathetic failed attempt to kill D.A.
Whitman.  After I'm through killing all of you and making it look like
you killed each other, I'm going to fly to Mexico City, kill Whitman,
and make it look like he was killed by a drug cartel.  Yep, I know where
he is.  No one can hide from me.  Nice of him to pick a violent city to
hide in so his death won't look that suspicious.  I've already prepared
an alibi so no one will think I went to Mexico.  And when that's done, I
can collect the entire twenty million for myself." Suddenly, without
warning, Julia took aim and fired two quick shots, killing the two
unconscious henchmen lying on the floor.  She laughed at the looks of
fear on the others' faces. "I am the bringer of death," she hissed,
sounding like a cheesy and violent Broadway play.

"You think you're so tough and smart," growled Melanie. "But in all your
ranting you forgot to mention the bomb you tried to use on my friend. Or
did you leave that out because she outsmarted you and survived?" Julia, 
an enraged look on her face, whirled to face the blonde, aiming the gun 
at her.  For a brief moment, all her attention was focused on Melanie.

That was all Sara needed.  She grabbed a vase from a nearby coffee table
and hurled it at the red-clad vixen.  The vase shattered as it impacted
her, knocking her backward against a wall.  Her gun dropped to the floor.
Sara leapt to her feet and performed a front handspring that took her
close to Julia.  She kicked her hard in the chest, sending Julia through
the open doorway and onto the front lawn.

The fat henchman took the opportunity to begin running away towards the
back door.  Melanie looked at him, then at Sara.

"I'll be all right," Sara assured her friend.  Melanie mouthed, "Good
luck," then hurried off after the fat thug.  Sara turned back to the 
front lawn.  Too late, she realized that Julia was no longer where she
had kicked her.  A noise came from behind Sara.  The detective was sent 
flying through the air from the impact of Julia's powerful sneak jump 
kick.  She landed on the grass in a heap.

Sara, dizzy, looked up and saw her opponent positioning herself across 
the lawn. "Nice flip...for an amateur," smirked Julia. "Now, here's what
a real gymnast can do." With that, she launched herself into an amazing-
looking tumbling pass, starting with a front tuck, then a roundoff, a
whipback, and three back handsprings.  At the end of her pass, she did a
full twisting layout, intending to kick Sara as she flipped and twisted.
Sara rolled out of the way just in time.  As Julia made a neat landing 
on her feet, Sara jumped up and positioned herself in a fighting stance.

"You're going to regret trying to fight me," snarled Julia. She launched
a high inside-out crescent kick.  Sara ducked under it and clocked her
opponent in the jaw with a strong fist.  She then roundhouse kicked her
in the side.  Advancing as Julia staggered backward, she swung a punch,
but the red-clad woman blocked it with a sturdy and muscular forearm.
Julia then bloodied the detective's face with a quick one-two combination
of punches.  She fired a kick at Sara, who dodged it and punched her
opponent in the stomach.  Julia let out a small grunt, while Sara shook
her fist. "Damn, her abs are harder than mine," she thought.  Julia
suddenly headbutted her hard, then performed a powerful spin kick.  Sara
fell to the ground, getting a faceful of grass.

Meanwhile, Melanie was chasing after the escaping henchman.  She caught
up with him on the back lawn and brought him down with a well-practiced
tackle (she and Sara both enjoyed playing tackle football with men).
Getting up, she kicked him hard in the head, sending him several feet
backwards. "Where are you going in such a hurry, fat boy?" she taunted
him.  The fat man got up and launched a slow kick at her that she dodged
easily.  Melanie laughed. "You fat, pathetic, out-of-shape wimp," she
smirked. She slammed her right fist into his overhanging gut, then drove 
her left into his face.

"Fuck you, blonde bitch," he growled, spitting out some blood.  He swung
a punch at Melanie's face, which she ducked under.  She then launched 
into a fast and vicious combination, starting with several hard punches
to his ugly face.  After that came a high kick to his head that knocked
him backwards.  Walking up to him confidently, she followed that up with
a brutal knee to his groin. As he staggered around in pain with his hand
on his crotch, she performed a sexy cartwheel, her size 9 sneakers
slamming into his head one after the other as she flipped.  She landed
perfectly on her feet, while her opponent landed face down on the grass.
She then knocked him out with a final, vicious kick to his fat head.

Julia stood over Sara and raised her right leg high above her head, 
intending to bring it down in a lethal kick on the detective.  Sara 
rolled to safety a moment before her opponent's killer leg came down.
Getting to her hands and knees, she fired a powerful back kick into 
Julia's midsection, buying her just enough time to get back to her feet.

Sara punched Julia in the face, then cheerleader-kicked her in the jaw.
Julia flew backwards, but turned the motion into a back handspring and
landed neatly on her feet.  She then did a front handspring, her booted
feet plowing into Sara's face.  As she landed, Julia began firing a 
brutal barrage of high kicks, pummeling Sara.  After about a dozen kicks,
she paused and laughed aloud at the detective's battered condition.  She
then launched another kick.

Sara, although bruised and bleeding, didn't lose her fighter spirit.  As
Julia's black boot approached her in its fast kick, she used her fast
hands and grabbed the outstretched leg.  Before her opponent could react,
she delivered a hard shove, causing Julia to lose her balance and land 
on her ass.

As Sara approached her, Julia scooped up a handful of dirt and flung it
right into her eyes.  While Sara was struggling to see, Julia leapt back
to her feet and punched her in the jaw, knocking her backwards.  She
fired another punch, but this time, Sara dodged it and responded by
punching Julia in the eye.  The detective then grabbed her opponent and
began repeatedly kneeing her in the stomach.  Julia's hard abs were
gradually weakened by the powerful force of Sara's knees.  Sara finished
the series by aiming a little lower and kneeing Julia in her crotch. She
then drove her elbow hard into the side of Julia's head.

Sara looked at her wounded, dizzy opponent. "Here's a little gymnastic
trick for you," she said.  With that, she performed a beautiful backflip
kick.  Her boots slammed into Julia's jaw one after the other, sending
the red-clad killer woman down in a heap. As Sara completed her flip and
landed on her feet, she looked at her crumpled opponent and sighed with
satisfaction.

She went back inside and picked up Julia's gun from the floor.  She saw
Melanie coming in from the back. "I got fatso," said the blonde with a
grin. "I knocked him out and handcuffed him to a pole in the back yard."

"Great," said Sara. "I finally got Julia.  She is one killer witch, I'll
tell you that." She gingerly touched one of the bruises on her face.

"Are you all right?" asked Melanie.

"I'm okay," Sara responded. "Let's rope in Lady Macbeth out there." She
grabbed a pair of handcuffs with her left hand, still holding Julia's 
gun with her right.

The two women stepped outside. "Look out!" shouted Melanie suddenly.
Julia had drawn a hidden knife from her boot and flung it directly at
Sara.  The detective twisted her body to the side.  It wasn't enough to
avoid the flying knife completely, but it was enough to cause the knife
to drive itself into her shoulder instead of her heart.  Despite the
searing pain, Sara managed to take aim with the gun and fire a clean 
shot that caught Julia in the center of her chest.  As Julia slumped
dead to the ground, Sara dropped the gun and handcuffs and clutched her
wounded shoulder.

"Oh, Sara!" Melanie shrieked, grabbing her friend to support her.

"I'll live," said Sara, wincing from the pain.  She picked up the gun
again.  The two women then went back into the house, Sara leaning on
Melanie for support.  The brunette plopped down into a soft chair.  She
removed the magazine from the gun and took out one of the bullets.  Her
friend gave her a puzzled look.

"Pull the knife out," said Sara.  Melanie stared. "It's better that it's
done sooner," said the detective.  She placed the bullet between her 
teeth.

"Hang on," said Melanie.  She gripped her friend tightly, then gave the
knife a quick yank, pulling it out.  A muffled yell came from Sara's
mouth.  Melanie got some paper towels and handed them to Sara, who 
pressed them on the wound.  She dropped the bullet out of her mouth.  It
now had deep tooth marks on it. "Do you want to go to the hospital?" 
asked the blonde.

"The paramedics will come with the police when they get here," said Sara.
"They can look at me." She looked at the pieces of the smashed vase lying
on the floor. "Sorry about your vase," she said.

"Sara, you saved my life when you threw that vase," said Melanie.

"You saved my ass out there too, Mel," Sara said with a smile. "I doubt 
that I could have dodged that knife in time if you hadn't warned me." 
Melanie smiled back and the two women hugged each other tightly.

A few minutes later, the police arrived.  The coroner's unit hauled off
the dead bodies of Julia, Mike, and the two dead henchmen.  The fat thug
was hauled off to jail.  The paramedics treated Sara's injury on the
scene.  After they were done, a police captain interrogated Sara and
Melanie with a LONG list of questions.  It was almost midnight before
everything was finally done.

When the two weeks specified in the will were up, Sara and Ben Whitman,
the other surviving person mentioned in the will, each received their
check for ten million dollars from Frank Hill, the attorney.  This time,
they hungrily partook of the snacks set out on the table.

After the ceremony, Sara went over to Melanie's house. "Check out this
check!" she said. "Oh, and I brought you some snacks too.  Too bad Frank
was so insistent about 'no guests'."

"Oh, that's okay," said Melanie. "I'm not fond of ceremonies anyway.
Just as long as I get some food." She reached for some crackers and 
cheese and began eating. "Hey, do you know what this means?" she said 
suddenly through a mouthful of food. "You're richer than me now, so you 
can start paying when we eat somewhere expensive!" She gave her friend a 
teasing grin.  Sara smiled back and winked.

THE END

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