To make sure he wasn''t just seeing things, Harry leaned in closer, squinting through the gloom.


    It was nearly dark by the riverbank, and with Hank standing with his back to him, Harry couldn''t make out much. Still, he could see enough to catch Hank''s movements.


    Guys always give themselves a little shake after they pee.


    "Crystal, what are you up to?" Harry called out, raising his voice on purpose.


    Hank practically jumped out of his skin, yanking his underwear up and pulling the dress down in a panic.


    “H-Harry..." Hank stammered, heart thudding in his chest. Did Harry figure it out? Did he know?


    Before Hank could think, Harry reached out, grabbing at Hank''s crotch, testing his suspicion.


    Hank was teetering on the edge of the river, standing on slippery pebbles in a pair of high heels—just staying upright was tough enough. The sudden grab made Hank flinch, instinctively blocking Harry''s hand, but he lost his bnce andnded hard on the riverbank, soaking his skirt through.


    Harry''s hand caught what it was looking for. He froze, shock and a strange excitement lighting up his face. "You''re a guy!"


    There was Hank, dressed to the nines, long hair and all, sitting in the water looking absolutely miserable.


    Hank was mortified. Crap, busted.


    "Harry, please, I didn''t mean to trick you," Hank said, thinking fast. "My family''s broke. We can barely put food on the table. I''m just trying to save up so my little brother can get married."


    He put on his best sad face, eyes watering, hoping Harry would feel sorry for him. But Harry just got more worked up, almost giddy. "You''re a scammer! The biggest I''ve ever seen! I can''t believe it—finally found you. How many guys have you ripped off, huh? What''d you do with all their money, buy yourself fancy bags?" Harry thought, anyone who scams men like this deserves whatever''sing to them-man or woman. A man dressing up as a woman? That was just the lowest. He never once suspected Hank might be a cop. To him, Hank was nothing but a con artist a damn good one, too.


    Hank shook his head, voice shaky. "Harry, please, I wasn''t trying to scam you. I had no choice."


    "That''s what all you scammers say. So you''re desperate, but the guys you''ve ripped off just deserve it?" Harry''s voice was rising, shaking with anger.


    Hank tried to sound scared, inching away. "Harry, just calm down. I don''t want your money. Here, take your bag."


    He tossed the pricey handbag at Harry and tried to make a break for it.


    "Don''t move." Harry grabbed Hank by the back of the dress, yanked him back, and pulled a knife, driving it straight into Hank''s chest.


    Just like all those other women before-a single, clean stab.


    Blood poured from Hank''s chest, soaking the dress. He stared up at Harry, pain and disbelief etched across his face. "Harry... why... why are you doing this?"


    "Scammers deserve to die," Harry spat, eyes wild. "You thought scamming men was easy? Tonight you pay for every guy you ever fooled."


    Hank crumpled to the ground,


    clutching his chest as blood bubbled


    from his lips. His face twisted in


    shock and terror. "You... you''re the


    serial killer everyone''s looking for. All those women-my friend Jenny, too... you killed her. By the river, just like this."


    Harry''s smile was cold and cruel. "So that little tramp was your friend? Yeah, I killed her. And the rest of them. You women, always scamming instead of working honest jobs. But you? You''re the worst-a man dressing up as a


    woman to con other men? Pathetic."


    "You psycho!" Hank coughed, blood speckling his chin. “Yeah, maybe


    they were scammers, but that''s·


    what thew is for! You''re a


    The police will get you."


    Harry sneered. "Those useless idiots? I''ve killed nine people already. Nine! And they''ve got nothing. You make ten. Nice, round number. Ten out of ten-perfect."