The judge sat high on the bench secure in the knowledge no one knew his secret; the fantasy that had led to the murder of a prostitute named Nell Wood. He'd truly believed all the women at the brothel found him attractive when he paraded around in full female attire. His large ass squeezed desperately into a pink jersey dress with bows, arrows, and hearts on it. Not one single person would believe the balancing act he could do in black five inch heels. Nell should never have laughed at him, should never have made him the butt of her cruel joke. She's dead as a doornail and who's laughing now? Certainly not the fiancee he'd framed for murder. The same whining fiancee they were bringing into his courtroom right about now.