Night fell across the city, painting everything in that soft, golden glow from streetmps. Hank and Harry had set their meeting at a cozy downtown steakhouse- the kind with checkered tablecloths, flickering candles, and the mouthwatering scent of grilling steaks wafting out the door. Jason was already there, parked out front, keeping watch from behind the wheel.


    At around 7:30, Hank climbed out of a taxi, dressed in a floral dress and wobbling on a pair of three-inch heels that looked like pure torture. He shot a quick nce at Jason''s car, nervously tugged at the neckline of his blouse, and made his way -awkwardly toward the entrance.


    For the sake of the undercover gig, Hank hadmitted to the look: the heels, a cheap wig, even a padded bra. But he moved like a baby deer on ice, every step a new crisis.


    "Try not to walk like you''ve got a cramp, man," Jason''s voice crackled in Hank''s earbud, tucked beneath a tangle of synthetic hair.


    The earpiece kept them linked, but Jason''s reminder made Hank freeze in the middle of the sidewalk-suddenly unsure of how to move at all. People strolling by couldn''t help but stare; Hank''s outfit was surprisingly convincing, but the way he walked had everyone doing a double take.


    His phone buzzed-Harry texting: "Crystal, I''m a few minutes away. Traffic''s a mess."


    Hank replied, "No worries, Harry. Drive safe!"


    With that, he straightened up and strode into the restaurant, faking confidence he definitely didn''t feel.


    Meanwhile, pure luck hadnded Anastasia and Monica at the very same steakhouse that night.


    Anastasia, hoping to avoid anyone she knew, had picked a quiet booth in the corner. She was blissfully unaware of thetest scandal swirling online-Herman had made sure every trace was wiped clean. In fact, Herman tracked her every move, so knowing she was out with Monica tonight helped him breathe easier.


    The two friends ordered, and Monica, always the clown, tried to cheer Anastasia up with old college stories.


    Right as Monica took a big sip of her juice, Hank walked in. Monica saw him— broad-shouldered, long hair, and teetering in heels-and nearly spit her drink all over the table.


    She waved, grinning. "Hank! Over here!"


    Hank looked over, startled. Spotting Monica and Anastasia, he blurted, "Anastasia? What are you doing here?"-forgetting to disguise his voice, which sounded like a baritone echoing off the walls.


    A few diners nced over, confused. Hank coughed and tried again in a squeaky falsetto. "Sorry, my throat''s a little off tonight."


    Most folks politely returned to their meals.


    Monica couldn''t hold back augh. "Hank, I never pictured you like this! Gotta say, you pull it off—almost didn''t recognize you. What did you use for, uh, the chest?” She craned her neck for a better look.


    Hank pulled her aside, whispering, "How''d you know it was me? Is it that obvious?"


    He was sweating-if Monica could spot him in a second, Harry would see right through the disguise.


    Monica shrugged. "Sure it''s obvious. You just tossed on a wig and a dress. You''re still you. Right, Ana?"


    Anastasia shook her head, baffled. “Honestly... I didn''t recognize you at all. Monica, is your friend a guy or a girl? Who is he?"


    Monica exined, "He''s Jason''s coworker-Hank. Ana, you really didn''t know?”


    “Hank?” Anastasia frowned, trying to remember. She''d met Hank on a few of Jason''s cases but hadn''t recognized him at all.


    Hank scratched his head, embarrassed. "Evening, Mrs. Salstrom."


    He turned to Monica. "So you could tell I was a guy right away?"


    Monica grinned. "Of course. I know you too well. What is this-some kind of cosy?"


    Truth was, Monica could spot Hank anywhere, no matter what he was wearing.


    Hank looked panicked. "Great, just great. If you can tell, Harry''s definitely going to figure it out."


    Monica raised an eyebrow. "Figure what out? Hank, what are you even doing?"


    He lowered his voice. "Jason''s n


    We''re


    ing to catch a suspect. you don''t know me,


    s outside wat by


    Monica''s expression turned serious. If Jason was involved, it had to be important.


    She nodded, dropping the jokes.


    Outside, Jason saw Monica and Anastasia through the window. He texted Monica, urging her and Anastasia to wrap up and leave soon.


    Hank found a table as far from


    Monica as possible. He barely had time to catch his breath before Harry


    ked in, a bouquet of bright red


    in hand.


    Their first real-life meetup after chatting online, and they''d agreed on a signal: a red rose on the table.


    Harry immediately spotted


    Hank-long hair, curves, and all-and


    felt a weird excitement. With the


    cops watching his every movetely,


    he hadn''t been able to let loose for a


    white. No wonder he was thrilled.


    Hank already knew Harry had arrived the second he walked in, Jason whispered


    the update in his ear.


    Doing his best impression of a woman, Hank crossed his legs and pulled out apact, pretending to touch up his makeup.


    Harry approached, a practiced smile on his face. "Hey, are you Crystal?"