Hey, for those who've been keeping up with my series, thanks for taking the time to read all my stories. I appreciate all the comments! TYK!

Well, anyway, here's my latest story - Number 25 to be exact. Enjoy!

Warning - Derek is in this story (remember, the FBI Agent that likes Lynda?). For those who like him, here he is. If you don't like him, please don't throw otters or try to kill him (that's my job). Also, Maggie Mackenzie (Fraser's sister) is also in here.

Lynda Kowalski - Undercover Detective

by Jackie

Lynda walked into the bullpen of the 27^th District Police Station, both Dief and Regan trotting beside her. It was Monday, the beginning of the week. Time for a fresh start. The young Detective removed her winter coat, revealing a pair of black jeans, black turtleneck, and black Italian boots. Her holster was securely fastened to her shoulders and her gun hung in place. Lynda's hair was pulled back into a tight French braid, with a black bow fastened near the end.

"In a dark mood today, huh?"

Lynda smiled as she turned around. "Morning, Dad." Sure enough, Detective Stanley Kowalski, Lynda's father, walked up to his daughter's desk from the set of double doors. He was dressed in a gray sweatshirt, blue jeans, and sloppy running shoes. His shoulder holster and gun were secured like Lynda's. In his right hand he held a doughnut box. Lynda gave him a kiss on the cheek. "What do you mean dark?"

"Your clothes, Lynda. They're all black."

"Yeah, well, I just felt like wearing black, that's all."

"So, you haven't joined some cult?" Stanley joked.

"No, silly," Lynda chuckled as she punched him playfully in the arm. She sat down at her desk and pulled up her e-mail to check it. She received twenty. "I guess I'm pretty popular." She began reading her e-mail.

"What's the big deal with e-mail?" Stanley asked. He looked at the wolves, who stared up at him, silently begging for food. "Here, boys." He handed each of them a jelly doughnut from the box, which they quickly devoured. He offered Lynda one as well.

"No thanks, Dad, I already ate before coming in," Lynda answered. "And e-mail's . . . well, quicker to respond to. Besides -"

"Kowalski! Lynda! My office, now!"

The two Detective immediately abandoned the discussion and headed for their superior's office. Already inside were Welsh, Ray, and Fraser. Each was dressed in a business suit, gray Armani outfit, and the brown uniform, respectively. Welsh sat back in his chair as the group gathered around his desk.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush," Welsh started. "How much do you know about the University killings?"

"Only that we don't know who's killing those young girls," Ray answered wryly. "Or even if they're related." Ever since the beginning of January, before Lynda became a Detective, past week, a two murders had taken place at the University of Chicago. No relation and each killing appeared to be a separate incidence.

"We just received word that there may be a possible suspect responsible for both killings," Welsh said.

"So, they're connected?" Stanley asked.

"Possibly," Welsh answered. "I got a phone call last night from Ottawa. The RCMP has heard about the killings. They sent down the file of a student who's attending the University. They believe he may be responsible."

"Out killer's Canadian?" Stanley joked. "What happened to the nice, polite Canadians?"

Welsh shot a stern look to the Detective. "Their suspect has been connected in other possible homicides in Calgary, Ottawa, and Quebec. Nothing was ever proven to be solid evidence against him, but he still remained suspicious among the RCMP."

"So, where's that leave us?" Lynda asked.

"The RCMP is working with some of the FBI here in Chicago," Welsh explained. "We're to team up with them and send two people undercover as students. We already have one from the FBI. The second one was recommended to be from this precinct." He looked knowingly at Lynda.

"Me?" she asked.

"Lynda, you're the only one who works here who would be able to get inside without arousing suspicion," Welsh explained.

"Sir, she can't go undercover," Stanley protested. "It's too dangerous."

"That's why she'll be wired," Welsh replied. "And there will be a constant surveillance team set up to monitor. If anything happens, we'll be ready."

"I can handle myself, Dad," Lynda said firmly. "I don't need to be wired."

"Nevertheless, Lynda, you're going to be wired."

"You think she can handle it?" Stanley asked.

"I know she can handle it," Welsh said firmly.

"Thanks," Lynda nodded. "So, who's going to be my partner?" Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. "Oh, no, Sir, don't tell me it's him."

"Who?" Ray asked.

"It's Derek, isn't it?" Lynda asked.

"He was the only person available," Welsh answered.

"I don't believe this," Lynda shook her head. "Of all the people I have to be with during my first undercover assignment -"

"Tell me about it," a new voice interrupted. Everyone turned to see Special Agent Derek Laramie standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a dark gray Armani suit. His brown hair was slicked back. He nodded at everyone. Everyone but Fraser gave him a cold look.

"I'm not doing this," Lynda said. "You can get someone else to partner up with him, but it won't be me."

"Lynda, I can understand how you feel," Welsh said gently, "but we have no other choice. You have to go undercover with Agent Laramie."

"I can't."

"Lynda, come on," Derek replied. "I'm not too thrilled about this arrangement either, but we have no other way to break open this case." He walked over to her, but Stanley stopped him from getting too close. "Look, I promise I'll behave myself, okay?" He held his hand out.

Lynda looked at his hand, then up at him. She nodded, but refused to shake his hand. "Fine. But I'm not doing this because of you, Derek. I'm doing this because some lunatic is murdering innocent girls."

"Okay," Derek nodded. He turned to Welsh. "The RCMP sent down a representative to overlook the investigation. I brought her over so we could all be introduced." He looked toward the doorway and smiled. "And here she is."

Everyone turned to see a female Mountie in the dress reds standing in the doorway. She was petite in stature and Lynda's height, with blonde hair that hung in a bun. Blue eyes radiated energy as she smiled.

"Am I late?" she asked.

"Maggie?" Fraser and Stanley asked.

"Hello, Benton," Maggie smiled. "Ray."

To the surprise of the others present (except Welsh), Fraser rushed over to her and hugged her. Stanley wasn't too far behind.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," Fraser grinned. "How are you?"

"Never better," Maggie answered. She noticed Welsh and smiled. "Leftenant Welsh."

"Constable Mackenzie," Welsh smiled.

"So, you already know each other?" Lynda asked.

"We worked on a case together before," Stanley explained. "It was before you showed up, Lynda." He looked back at Maggie. "So, you've been assigned to work on this case, huh?"

"Yes," Maggie nodded. "The RCMP wants to get this case wrapped up as soon as possible." She smiled at Lynda. "So, you must be Detective Lynda Kowalski. We've heard so much about you up in Canada. You've made quite a name for yourself."

"Thank you," Lynda smiled. "So, what did you and my dad work on together?"

"'Dad'?" Maggie asked. She turned to Stanley. "You're a father, Ray?"

"Yeah," Stanley answered, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "And, uh . . . my real name's Stanley. Stanley Raymond Kowalski."

"I don't understand," Maggie look confused.

"Maggie, when you showed up in Chicago the last time," Fraser explained, "Stanley was undercover for another officer, Ray Vecchio."

"That would be me," Ray smiled.

"Ray - the *real* Ray - was undercover in the mob," Fraser continued. "Someone was needed to fill in for him so his cover wouldn't be blown. Stanley accepted that position."

"And how does Lynda fit into this?"

"He married my mother after their high school prom," Lynda explained. "But she moved away before she could tell him she was pregnant. Nine months later, I was born. Dad never knew I existed until I came asking for his help last May."

"Well," Maggie said slowly. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it, Benton?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ray asked.

"Maggie's my sister," Fraser explained.

"Sister?!?!" Ray, Lynda, and Derek asked.

"Actually, half-sister," Maggie corrected.

"How?" Derek asked.

"After my mother died," Fraser explained, "my father spent some time with Maggie's mother. He didn't know she existed either."

"Now there's two of them?" Ray asked. "I don't believe this. Benny has a sister?"

"Half-sister," the Mounties corrected.

"Well, anyway," Welsh cleared his throat loudly, "since we're now all acquainted with each other, I think it's time to get ready. Lynda, Derek, you two will be briefed by Constable Mackenzie as to what your covers are. They've already been set up. Tomorrow afternoon, you will begin."

"Yes, Sir," Derek nodded.

"Lynda?" The young Detective frowned, folding her arms across her chest, not bothering to look at Derek. "Lynda?"

"Yes, Sir," Lynda replied cooly before leaving the office. Derek soon followed, reluctantly.

"Do those two not like each other?" Maggie asked.

"Oh, no, they love each other," Welsh answered. "But they hate each other - at least Lynda hates Derek."

"Why?"

"They dated, then Lynda discovered that Derek was lying to her," Stanley said coldly. "She broke up with him."

"And they've been like this since then?" Maggie asked.

"No, actually they're better," Fraser answered. "Lynda's no longer slapping Derek every time they meet."

"Will they be able to handle working together so as not to blow their covers?" Maggie asked.

"Lynda will concentrate on her work," Welsh answered. "She knows when to separate her personal life and professional life." Most of the time, he thought.

"Okay," Maggie sighed. "Well, I guess I need to fill them in on who are what they're supposed to be, and what they're to do." She politely excused herself.

"Wow, a sister?" Ray asked, watching her leave. "Does she sniff and taste things, too?"

"Ahem," Welsh cleared his throat.

"Yep," Stanley answered. "She tasted concrete last time I was with her."

"*Ahem*!" Welsh said louder.

"Eewwwuck!" Ray looked absolutely repulsed.

"AHEM!" All talking ceased. "Thank you," Welsh said. "Look, even though the FBI is running this show, I talked Constable Mackenzie into letting us help with surveillance. Fraser, Inspector Thatcher informed me that you are to give this case your full attention. You three will take different positions monitoring Agent Laramie and Lynda. Stanley, you and Agent Ford will work together, monitoring the East side of the campus."

"Great," Stanley muttered.

"Ray," Welsh ignored the Detective, "You and Agent Deeter will monitor the North Side." Ray sighed, hating the idea of working with one of the many FBI Agents he didn't like.

"Constable Fraser will monitor the West Side with Agent Travis."

"Understood, Leftenant," Fraser nodded.

"Constable Mackenzie will take the South side with Agent Jasper," Welsh finished. "She'll fill you in on what's going to take place. Dismissed." The three turned and left the office.

Maggie sat in Interrogation Room 2 with Lynda and Derek. She read a file and then smiled. She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

"Well, I guess I'll get right down to it," she said. "The RCMP wants this to be as quiet an operation as possible. You two will be going into the University of Chicago as Students. Detective Kowalski -"

"Call me Lynda, please," Lynda said. "You're Fraser's sister, so I don't think we need to worry about formalities."

"Okay, Lynda. You're both going undercover as brother and sister."

"What?!" Lynda's eyebrows nearly shot off her head.

"Lynda," Maggie said gently, "I understand that you and Special Agent Laramie had a . . . past together, and I can understand how you must feel about this. If I had known about your previous relationship beforehand I would have made sure to alter the covers, but I didn't. Leftenant Welsh did tell me that you can put aside your personal feelings and concentrate on your work. Can you do this, Lynda?"

Lynda sighed. "I guess."

"I'm glad," Maggie smiled. She read from her file. "Lynda, your name is going to be Stephanie Reed. Agent Laramie, you're going to be Lucas. You're both going to be from Tuktoyaktuk. Your mother is a librarian, while your father is a Constable with the RCMP. That's the story you two will give if people ask how you know so much about the murders."

"So, who's our suspect?" Derek asked. Maggie handed him another file. Derek opened it to see a stack of reports and an eight by eleven color photograph of a young man with brown hair and brown eyes.

"His name is Rick McMillian," Maggie explained. "He's from Calgary, Alberta, where the first murder took place."

Lynda leaned over and looked at the photograph. "Why does the RCMP suspect him? What his connection to all five girls?"

"He's either dated or known all of them."

"And why hasn't he been charged with anything?" Derek asked.

"Lack of evidence," Maggie said. "Aside from circumstantial stuff, we have nothing."

"So, where does that put us?" Lynda asked.

"Lynda, what I'm asking you to do is something dangerous, but I've heard you can handle yourself. I've been able to get both of you into McMillian's classes on alternating days. Lynda, you're going to have to get close to him, get him to trust you."

"You want me to become his girlfriend?"

"Yes. That way he can try to kill you and we have him."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Derek said. "And what happens if she gets into trouble?" He ignored the evil eye Lynda was giving him.

"That's why you're going to be there, Laramie. Just in case we can't reach her in time." She eyed both of them. "Can we all agree with that?"

"Okay," Derek nodded.

"Fine," Lynda said.

"Good," Maggie nodded. "Now, both of you are going to be wired and monitored by the surveillance teams that will be set up around campus. Now, on to the living arrangements. Rooms have already been set up for you both in the Max Mason Building. Tomorrow afternoon both of you . . ."

After being briefed by Maggie, Lynda left to go to her apartment. She drove home in her Chevy with Dief and Regan sitting in the back. Since it had been almost a year since she had attended U of C, there was so much more to do that just pack some clothes. She now had to deal with her apartment, deal with her bills (which were due the next day), give her keys to her father, find a place for the wolves to stay, etc. Lynda quickly pulled into her parking space in the parking lot of her apartment building and headed to her place with the wolves in tow.

The first thing Lynda did was pack two week's worth of clothes and her make up and other stuff. After that was finished, she went to the spare room she used for a library and went to the closet. She pulled a box - which contained her college stuff from the previous year -from the top shelf, plopped herself on the daybed nearby, and began rummaging through the box. She pulled out a year's worth of old chemistry and other class notes, her old backpack, and her first U of C t-shirt. She smiled, remembering the day that she had purchased it.

"Grr." Lynda looked up to see Dief and Regan both sitting in the doorway, giving her an evil eye.

"Oh, guys, come on, we talked about this on the way home." Lynda put her things aside and put the box back in the closet. "Hopefully, it'll only be for a few days." She closed the door and looked at both wolves, who were now rolled over on their backs. "I'm not going to scratch your tummies. I still have a lot of stuff to do." The wolves' responses to that were to grab her backpack and t-shirt in their mouths and run from the room. "Hey, give those back!" Lynda bolted from the room after them, finally cornering them in the living room.

"Come on, guys, give me my stuff," Lynda said, edging closer. The wolves thought this was a great game, but Lynda was not quite amused. She leapt for them, managing to grab a leg of each of them. The three wrestled around on the floor, Lynda holding her furry companions tightly while they tried to run away. Lynda shrieked with laughter.

"Having fun?" All three friends looked up to see Stanley leaning over Lynda's couch. He was trying not to laugh, but he couldn't help but grin.

"Would you please help me here?" Lynda asked from her spot on the floor.

"Would you please start locking your door?" Stanley retorted. He walked over and helped his daughter to her feet.

"I did lock it," Lynda replied, taking her backpack and t-shirt from the wolves.

"Not the deadbolt. Otherwise, I'd still be outside knocking, not using a key to unlock your door."

"Why should I have to, Dad? I mean, who's stupid enough to come into an apartment where a cop lives with two wolves ready to rip out throats if someone tries to harm her?"

"Plenty of people," Stanley answered. "You've lived in Chicago long enough to know you keep the doors locked, no matter what." Lynda didn't want to argue with him at the moment, so she went back to her room, with Stanley following. "So, done packing yet?"

"Almost," Lynda said as she closed her last suitcase. She put it beside her two others, then sat on the bed, trying to smooth out the wrinkles from her backpack. "Can't believe I'm going back to U of C. It's been a while." She fell silent.

"You okay?" Stanley asked.

"Yeah, just a lot happening right now," Lynda answered. "I mean, I'm going undercover for the first time at my old college . . . with my ex-boyfriend." She sighed. "Only in Chicago."

"Yeah, well, I'm glad you two won't have to be in the same room," Stanley replied.

"You and me both, Dad."

"So, what's your schedule tomorrow?"

Lynda grabbed her notebook from the night stand. She had jotted down the information that Maggie had briefed her on earlier that day. "Well, Derek and I have to get situated by two, because I have Chemistry at three, then Music Appreciation at five ten. After that's done, I'll go back to my dorm."

"I'm glad you were able to get in during this part of the year."

"I know, but the RCMP and the FBI informed the Administration Department of the situation, and allowed Derek and myself the chance to get our classes."

"Which happen to be the same classes our suspect is in," Stanley answered.

"Exactly."

Stanley sighed. "I still don't like the fact you're going undercover to be a target. Why can't they get someone else?"

"Dad, you know they chose me because I'm the only one who can do this. I know my way around the campus, and I can handle myself."

"And what about Derek?"

"He's there only to help me if I need it," Lynda replied. "Not that I need his help, but he'll be able to get around more than someone older."

"I still don't like it."

"I know, but I need to do it. Think of all those other girls and their fathers. We need to get the killer before he strikes again."

"I know, I know. Just promise me you'll be careful. I don't want to become one of those fathers, and you one of those daughters, okay?"

"I promise," Lynda smiled before hugging her father tightly.

"What about Dief and Regan?"

"Oh, I think Fraser's going to take them for me. They like spending time with him." Stanley helped Lynda get the rest of her stuff together while Lynda informed him on what to do about the rest of her personal affairs.

The next afternoon, Lynda and Derek both walked into the lobby of the Max Mason building where they were staying. Each of them were carrying their luggage and book bags in their hands. In their ears were earpieces hooked up to the surveillance teams situated around the campus. Tiny, almost invisible, microphones were on their collars. They were greeted by a bunch of students, all wearing royal blue shirts with 'MM' on them.

"Hi, you must be the newbies," a girl with short brown hair smiled at them. "I'm Karen Watson, the resident hall manager."

"Hi, I'm Stephanie Reed," Lynda smiled, giving the name she had been assigned.

"I'm Lucas, her brother," Derek nodded.

"These are the other officers of Max Mason," Karen gestured to the other students. "Billy Jackson, Thelma Hudson, Eliza Hanks, Sydney Douglas." Derek and Lynda smiled.

"So, you two really from Canada?" Sydney asked.

"Yes, we are," Lynda answered.

"So, what do you think of America so far?" Billy asked.

"Noisy," Derek answered.

"Too many rude people," Lynda added.

"How about I show you to your room?" Karen asked. She led the two upstairs and down a hall until they came to Room 2F. Karen unlocked the door and all three went inside. Derek and Lynda quickly assessed the room.

It was fairly large, enough for two of everything. Two dressers were pushed against one wall, two medium-sized desks were against the adjacent wall, and a king-sized bed was opposite the dressers. On both sides were a night stand and a lamp. A single room facing south flooded the room with afternoon sunlight. A love seat was in front of the window.

"Kind of big for one person, huh?" Derek asked.

"Actually, there's been a slight change of events," Karen said. "Lucas, your room is being fumigated. There were bugs found in the bed - don't ask how they just were. Anyway, it's going to be that way for a couple of days."

"What are you saying?" Lynda asked, wearily.

"Well, we figured you two wouldn't mind sharing a room for a couple of days. Is this a problem?" Lynda and Derek eyed each other. Karen saw it. "What? You two don't have a problem sharing, huh? I mean, you're related, so is shouldn't be that too big a deal, right?"

"No," Derek jumped in quickly. He slung an arm around Lynda. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Right, sis?"

"Okay," Karen said. She left, shutting the door behind them. For a few minutes, no one said a word. Finally, Derek went over to his side of the bed and put his stuff on it.

"What are you doing?" Lynda asked.

"I'm unpacking," Derek remarked.

"You and I are *not* going to be staying in the same room, let alone sleeping in the same bed."

"Hey, I didn't plan for this, Lynda. Don't get mad at -"

"What's going on?" Stanley voice echoed in the earpieces.

"Apparently, we were both assigned to this room," Lynda replied in her microphone. "Derek thinks he's going to be sleeping in the same room, and bed, with me."

"No he's not," Stanley replied.

"I know," Lynda answered.

"Look, why don't you guys trust me?" Derek asked, getting angry.

"Do you want me to list the reasons?" Lynda asked, glaring. "You use me and lie to me. That about cover it?"

"Detective, grow up," Ford said angrily.

"You shut up," Stanley retorted. "Lynda has a point."

"Your daughter needs to do her job," Deeter added.

"And you need to shut your mouth," Ray added angrily.

Ray and Stanley started arguing with Deeter and Ford over the airwaves. Lynda and Derek listened patiently, as did Fraser and Maggie and Travis. Finally, Derek decided enough was enough.

"Okay, everyone just shut up!" he shouted. The arguing stopped quickly. "Look, if it'll make everyone happy, I'll sleep out in the hall, okay?" He angrily grabbed his stuff and marched into the hall, slamming the door shut.

"It's about time," Stanley said. "Jerk's out of the picture."

"Dad, can it," Lynda replied angrily.

"Lynda, what -" Lynda cut her father off her frequency. She sat on the bed and put her head in her hands, trying to figure out what just happened. She had never seen Derek get angry before in all the time she had known him. She sighed, knowing Deeter was right; she had a job to do, and she needed to do it, regardless of her personal feelings. At lot more was at stake. She got up and walked over to the door, where she opened it. She was startled to see Derek standing there.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he replied.

"Look, I'm being a jerk, okay?" Lynda said. "I shouldn't have blamed you about this screw up. It isn't your fault."

"No, it isn't. And yes, you are being a jerk." Lynda didn't say a word, knowing Derek was right. She moved aside. "Does that mean I'm allowed back in?"

Lynda nodded. "Come on in." She moved aside and let Derek back in. Derek began unpacking his things and putting them in his dresser. Lynda sat on her side and just watched him. She started chuckling.

"What?" Derek asked.

"Just the fact that we're going to be sleeping in the same bed, that's all, considering."

"Lynda, look, just because we're staying in the same room doesn't mean we have to sleep in the same bed." He gestured to the big chair. "I'll sleep there."

"Doesn't look very comfortable."

"I've been in far worse places." He looked at the clock on the night stand. It said two-thirty. "You might want to get going. You don't want to be late for Chemistry."

"I didn't forget." Lynda jumped from her side of the bed and retrieved her backpack full of her books and other school supplies, and her bike helmet. She hurriedly ran out the bedroom and down the stairs, trying to put both on at the same time.

"Steph!"

Lynda turned around to see Derek running after her. "What?"

"Turn on your headset," he whispered. "Your father's ranting and raving."

"Oops," Lynda looked sheepish as she switched her frequency back on. She could hear exactly what Derek was talking about.

"- and to top it off -"

"Dad," she hissed. "Stop it."

"Well, look who's decided to come back online."

"Sorry about that," Lynda said as she walked outside the front of the Max Mason house to the bike rack. "So, which one's my bike?" She pulled a set of keys from her pocket, containing her dorm room key, her bike key, and a few others that had no real purpose.

"It's the silver and purple one," Stanley answered. "Next to the gold one on your left."

"I guess you guys can see pretty good from your vantage point, huh?" Lynda smiled as she unlocked her bike and hopped on it. She looked up at the dark blue van with 'Acme Cleaners' on the side across the street. She knew it wasn't a cleaning van though. "Well, here goes nothing." She zoomed away on her bike to her first class.

"Hey, be careful," Stanley said as Lynda sped down the street, whizzing past pedestrians and parked cars.

"I'll be fine. I've done this before." Lynda made it safely to the Science Building, where her chemistry lecture was to be held. She locked her bike in the bike rack, then made her way inside to Room 100, with ten minutes to spare. She plopped herself in a chair near the back center in order to get a better vantage point. In her entire time at college, Lynda never sat in the back. But she wasn't in college, technically.

She pulled out a small notepad and pen from her backpack, then looked out into the sea of faces to find McMillian. He wasn't there at the moment, so Lynda began jotting stuff down in her notepad about the case in order to pass the time. She glanced up a few minutes later and immediately spotted him as he made his way into the classroom.

He was exactly like his file said he was going to be: under five ten, brown hair slightly tousled, brown eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt, and running shoes. He also sported a brown leather jacket, and his backpack was slung over his shoulders. He started toward the back of the room searching for a seat, then caught Lynda's eyes. He stopped short, then nodded and smiled to her before finding a seat on the same row, but more toward the edge. Soon, class began.

Lynda concentrated on subtly watching him during the lecture. She noticed how intently he was paying attention to the professor and that, thanks to her good eyesight, he took very good notes. Once, he looked up to stare at her, but Lynda quickly adverted her attention to her notepad, pretending she was taking notes. Class was over shortly after that. As she gathered up her stuff, she looked up as he approached her.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello," Lynda replied.

"I know this is a big class, but I'm certain I've never seen you before today."

"That's because I just transferred over today," the young Detective replied.

"Where from?"

"Tuktoyaktuk."

"Really? I'm from Canada, too." He held out his hand. "Rick McMillian."

"Stephanie Reed," Lynda shook his hand.

"Look, I know we just met, but do you want to have something to eat later on?"

"Actually, I was planning to study tonight after I get out of my last class." In reality, Lynda was planning to study the files of the other victims with Derek.

"I understand," Rick said. "Well, how about coffee tomorrow afternoon? Brothers Gourmet Coffee Bar, 2800 N Clark St., sound okay to you?"

"Sure," Lynda smiled.

"Okay, I'll see you there around two."

"I'll be there."

Rick smiled. "Uh, do you mind if I walk you to your next class?"

"No, that fine. I have a music appreciation class at five. Mr. Bedford is the instructor."

"Hey, that's my class also. What a coincidence. Well, shall we get going? Bedford is not patient." The two walked out of the classroom together.

"Good job, Detective," Maggie's voice said into her earpiece.

"Thanks," Lynda whispered softly.

"Excuse me?" Rick asked.

"Nothing," Lynda said quickly as the made their way out the building.

It was almost seven by the time Lynda got back to her room. She never remembered being so on the go the last time she was in school. Then again, she never had to worry about being a target in order to find a killer. She was unlocking her door when Karen came up to her in the hall.

"Hey, there you are, Stephanie!" Karen smiled brightly. "Listen, you and Lucas want to get a taste of the Windy City night life?"

"No thanks, Karen," Lynda replied. "We just want to get settled in and try to catch up. We're just a little behind everyone, remember?"

"I understand. Maybe another time." Karen walked down the stairs and out the front door. Lynda unlocked the door and went in. Derek was already in, sitting at the desk. He had changed from his t-shirt and jeans into sweats and a tank top, nicely showing off his biceps. He was leaning on his elbow, writing and mumbling to himself. The desk was covered with papers and files. His laptop was set up, showing a screen from the FBI Crime Library.

"Hi," Lynda said as she closed the door behind her.

Derek looked up and smiled from behind a pair of glass frames. "You're back. How was everything?"

"It was good," Lynda replied. She dropped her back next to her dresser, then flopped onto the bed. "Guess who's already gotten hooked up with our suspect?"

"Already?" Derek turned around in his chair. "Wow."

"Yep. Rick and I are supposed to be going out for coffee tomorrow afternoon." She stretched. "Man, am I hungry."

"You're in luck, Detective," Derek abandoned his work and went over to his dresser, where he picked up a paper bag. He took out a deli sandwich wrapped in plastic and handed it to her. "Turkey, pickles, tomatoes, cheese, mayo, and mustard on wheat."

"You remembered, huh?" Lynda smiled.

"Just like I remembered the chips and drink," Derek put a medium coke and a bag of Doritos on the night stand, then dug into his dinner.

"Thanks," Lynda mumbled around a bite. "So, answer two questions for me."

"What?"

"What are you working on?"

"Just some stuff from the FBI. Trying to go through everything on McMillian, and see how his profile matches those of other serial killers. Maybe we can figure out what his pattern is before he strikes again. What's the second question?"

"What's with the glasses? You never had those before."

"Actually, I never read anything in front of you. I've had reading glasses ever since I was nineteen."

"Oh. So, what did you find on McMillian?"

Derek went back over to the desk and retrieved some files. "Well, the RCMP, as you know, suspects him on a total of five murders, including the two here recently. Constable Mackenzie faxed these over." He handed her three files.

"What are they?" Lynda asked as she took them.

"The cases on the other girls who were murdered. One from Calgary, Ottawa, and then Quebec." Lynda put down her sandwich and began reading the files. Derek soon joined her. Together, they read in silence.

It was almost ten by the time all the files were read. Lynda went into the bathroom to change while Derek cleaned up. She came out a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a white cotton tank top. Derek stared at her as she put her clothes aside. Lynda noticed.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," Derek answered quickly. "It's just . . . well, I've never seen you like this." He finished cleaning up, then went over to the chair. Lynda tossed him a pillow and a blanket from the bed. "Thanks."

"No problem." Lynda climbed under the sheets of her bed. Derek quickly situated himself in the chair before Lynda turned off the light. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. She heard some muffled grunts and movement from Derek.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"This is very uncomfortable," he answered. She heard him shift, then a loud CRASH! Lynda bolted upright, then quickly turned on the lamp to see Derek laying in a heap on the floor, his blanket and pillow tangled up with him. The chair was turned over.

"What happened?"

"That thing is too small for me," he answered. He quickly stood up, grabbed his pillow and blanket and made his way to the left side of the bed. He put his pillow in place, then quickly got under the sheets next to Lynda.

"What do you think you're doing?'

"Lynda, there's more than enough room for both of us. I'm not going to try anything, okay? I'm tired and I want to get some sleep. You have a problem with that, you can sleep somewhere else." He quickly turned off the lamp, then turned on his side and fell asleep.

Lynda glared at him for a minute before huffing and turning her back to him. She pulled the sheets around her shoulders, then scooted as far from him as she could without falling off. "You tell this to anyone - anyone at all - and I swear I'll slug you."

"Trust me, Lynda," Derek answered wryly. "I value my life too much." He didn't let Lynda see him smiling in the dark as he closed his eyes. "You know what, Lynda?"

"What, Derek?"

"I finally got you into bed with me, you know that?"

Lynda tried not to smile, but it was in vain. "Goodnight, Derek."

"Goodnight, Lynda."

Lynda slowly opened her eyes and stretched as she sat up. Sunlight was pouring through the open window as she yawned. She looked at the clock on the night stand. Seven thirty-three.

"Morning, Sleepyhead."

Lynda looked up to see Derek pull a shirt over him. He was already dressed in jeans and running shoes. His hair was neatly combed. She smiled and waved.

"Morning," she mumbled as she got up.

"See? We survived the night together, and I was a perfect gentleman."

"Whatever. When did you get up?"

"About an hour ago. Shower's your if you want it. I'm done." He shrugged into a sports jacket.

"Thanks," Lynda replied before grabbing her shower stuff and towels from one of her bags and going into the bathroom. She got the hot water running, stripped her night clothes off, and got in. The hot water felt refreshing against her skin. She quickly washed herself, then got out, wrapping a towel around her wet hair and body.

She came out of the bathroom, momentarily forgetting that Derek was still there. He looked up from packing his book bag to see Lynda come out, clothed only in two towels. He couldn't help but smile.

"Boy, I've been wanting to see you like this for a long time, Lynda."

Lynda shrieked as she bolted back into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Derek doubled over in laughter, howling loudly. Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he collapsed onto the bed.

"That's not funny!" she shouted from inside the bathroom.

"Aw, come on, Lynda, where's your sense of humor?"

"That's not funny."

"I won't look, okay? I promise."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

A pause. "Okay, but if you look, I'll kill you."

Derek went over to the window and looked out, keeping his back to the room. He heard the bathroom door open and Lynda come out. It was very tempting to sneak a peek, but he respected Lynda's privacy and wasn't going to go back on his promise.

"Okay, you can turn around now," Lynda said after a few minutes.

Derek turned around to see Lynda in a pair of jeans, a black shirt, and brown suede jacket. She wore matching brown Lacers. She still had her hair in a towel.

"You have your gun?"

Lynda patted her side. "Right where it always is. And you?" Derek parted his jacket, showing his gun securely attached to his jeans. "I gotta go dry my hair. I'll be out in a few."

Lynda went back into the bathroom and closed the door. Derek heard the sound of a blow dryer going. Lynda came out ten minutes later, her hair shining like corn silk.

"Hungry?" Derek asked. "Breakfast is being served downstairs in the kitchen."

"Sure," Lynda agreed. "But let's get hooked up first. I'm sure the groups are wanting to hear from us." Lynda put her earpiece on and connected with the surveillance groups. "Good morning, people."

"Morning, Lynda," Stanley's voice answered. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, Dad. How about you guys?"

"Fine," Ray answered. "A little crowded, but okay. Derek, you still alive?"

"Funny, Detective," Derek answered. "We're going to grab some breakfast, then I'm heading out to class."

"Lynda, remember that you're meeting Rick today," Maggie said.

"I know," Lynda answered. Her stomach growled. "Come on, Derek, let's get some food. I'm starved."

Derek grabbed his book bag and the two made their way out of their room. They walked down the stairs to the kitchen, where some people were milling about, talking and eating food.

Kate smiled from her spot at a big table. "Morning, guys. Sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded.

"Did you hear a big crash last night?" Thelma asked as she drank some orange juice. Derek and Lynda said nothing as they grabbed some bagels and fruit.

"So, have you guys heard about the killings?" Billy asked.

"Yeah," Lynda answered. "Our father's with the RCMP, so we know all about them. They think the same person who killed three other girls in Canada is responsible for the two recent ones here on campus."

"Kinda scary," Kate shuddered. "So, they have any suspects?"

"None, yet," Derek answered. He quickly gulped down his food, then excused himself to get to class.

"You know, you two don't look alike, Stephanie," Sydney spoke up.

"Well, D - Lucas takes after Mom, while I take after my father."

"So, where you guys from?" Eliza asked. "All we know is Canada."

"Tuktoyaktuk," Lynda mumbled around an apple.

"Tuktoy-what?"

"Tuktoyaktuk," Lynda repeated. "It's a nice place. A far cry from the city life." She looked at her watch. "Well, I hate to eat and run, but I'd like to walk around campus today just to get to know the place better." She stood up, then began to walk away.

"Hey, aren't you going to be polite?" Fraser's voice asked. "Thank them for the food."

"And make it realistic," Stanley added. "Something Fraser would say."

Lynda stopped and turned around. "Thank you kindly for the great food . . . I must go brush my teeth. Good oral hygiene is important to a healthy lifestyle." She politely left the kitchen.

"Guys," Kate said to her friends, "she is definitely Canadian. No one that weird could be otherwise."

As Lynda walked up the stairs to her room, she heard an argument over her earpiece.

"Lynda, I do not talk like that."

"Yes, you do Fraser," Ray said. "That is exactly what you say."

"Do not."

"Do to," Stanley said.

"Liars."

Lynda smiled and just grabbed her coat from her bedroom and headed back downstairs. But first, she made sure she brushed her teeth.

Lynda wrapped her coat around her as snow lightly fell. Her Lacers clicked on the sidewalk as she walked slowly around campus. She smiled to herself. It was good to be back.

"Steph!" Lynda turned around to see Derek hurriedly walk up to her, his bag slung over his shoulders. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just walking around. How was Physics?"

Derek groaned. "I hated it when I took it the first time. Now I really hate it."

Lynda smiled. "You want to join me? I have two hours before I'm to meet Rick."

"Sure." Derek took in a deep breath as they walked quietly down the sidewalk. It was just the two of them. "So . . . you look a little far off in thought. Anything wrong?"

"It's good to be back," Lynda said. "I sorta missed going to college. Not that I regret being a cop. It's just -"

"Lynda!" Derek and Lynda jerked their heads to see a girl about Lynda's age with red hair run up to them. She hugged Lynda tightly. "Oh, it's been so long, Lynda! How are you?"

Lynda pulled away. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"It's me, Karen Gregory. From Chemistry last year?"

Lynda knew who she was, but couldn't risk her cover being blown. She felt bad about what she was going to have to do. "I'm sorry, but I just started school here yesterday. I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

"No, I can't forget you. You helped me pass Chemistry."

Derek cleared his throat. "Look, Miss Gregory, my sister's telling the truth. We both started college here yesterday."

Karen looked confused. "Sister?"

"I'm Stephanie Reed. This is Lucas, my brother."

"Oh," Karen said, a little disappointed. "You look so much like my friend Lynda. Sorry to bother you." Karen quickly walked away.

"Whew!" Lynda let out a sigh of relief. "That was close."

"Old friend?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?" Ford demanded.

"Ran into an old friend," Lynda said.

"Look, Detective," Ford growled, "don't be screwing up like that again or you're in big trouble."

"Don't threaten me, Ford. It's not my fault." She and Derek continued walking on. "How do you put up with him?"

"Very carefully," Derek answered. "You know, you'd make a good FBI Agent. You ever thought about that?"

"I like working at the 27^th, Derek. I'm with my father and my friends, so, no I've never thought about joining the FBI. I'm also too young. And there are other factors."

"Me, huh?"

"Yep. And the fact that I don't like Ford or Deeter is another one."

"You get used to them."

"I couldn't," Lynda said. "I'd kill them first."

"Trust me, there are times I feel the same way, Lynda."

"Hey!" Deeter and Ford protested.

Derek and Lynda laughed as they continued walking.

Maggie and Fraser were sitting at the coffee shop Lynda was supposed to be in. Maggie wore her hair down and was dressed in jeans, T-shirt type top, a red plaid shirt over it, opened

plaid jacket, and hiking boots. Fraser was wearing blue plaid shirt, jeans, hiking boots, and a leather jacket. Both were sipping hot tea as they took a break from their surveillance.

"So, how are things up in Canada?" Fraser asked.

"Good," Maggie answered. "I heard the trial's going to be starting within the next few months, so I should be back down here. How are things with you?"

"The usual."

"How do you like working with Lynda? She seems to be very unique."

"She a great person to work with, Maggie. I'm teaching her a lot of the skill I utilized while I was up in Canada. I guess you could say she's my protege."

"I see a lot of her father in her," Maggie smiled.

Fraser smiled. "Those two make an interesting pair."

"Speaking of fathers, how is ours?"

"I'm still dead," Robert Fraser materialized next to Maggie.

"Hi, Dad," Maggie smiled.

"Hello, Maggie," Robert smiled. "So, how's the case coming along?"

"Great," Fraser answered. "Lynda's doing a good job."

"The Yank's daughter is something, isn't she?" He eyed Maggie. "So is the Yank."

"Dad, we're working," Maggie answered. She looked up in time to see Stanley walk into the coffee shop. He noticed Maggie and Fraser and came up to them.

"Hey, Fraser, time's up," he answered. "Need to get back to the van."

"Okay," Fraser nodded and got up.

Maggie started to get up, but Stanley stopped her. "Wait, Maggie. We need to talk."

"Okay," Maggie sat back down.

Stanley sat across from her in the booth as Fraser left. "Maggie, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you who I really was. I know I was undercover, but I still should have trusted you enough to let you know. I mean, you're Fraser's sister, so I should've trusted you. I mean -"

"Stanley," Maggie gently interrupted him. "There's no need to apologize. I understand why you didn't tell me. I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

"No. I would have done the same thing in your position. You were doing your job."

"Huh," Stanley smiled. "Wow."

"She's really great," Maggie smiled.

"Lynda?" Maggie nodded. "Yeah, well, she takes after her old man, you know that?"

"I noticed," Maggie chuckled.

"She's the best thing in my life," Stanley sighed. "Ever since her mother died . . ."

Maggie took his hands in hers. "You make a great father, Stanley."

"Kiss him," Robert hissed to his daughter. Maggie jerked her head to her father, but he disappeared before she could say anything.

"You know, I still owe you dinner," Stanley smiled. He rubbed his fingers over the tops of her hands.

"Stanley," Maggie gently pulled away, "we're working. Besides, the trial's supposed to start in a few months. We'll have dinner then."

"Okay," Stanley nodded. He looked up in time to see Lynda come in the restaurant. "She's here."

Maggie nodded and turned around. The two watched Lynda as she took off her coat and sat in one of the booths. She waited patiently and looked around the small cafe. That's when her eyes fell on her father and Maggie. She looked confused for a minute. Maggie switched on her frequency. Both she and Stanley were wired to monitor the situation closer.

"Lynda," Maggie said softly, "can you hear us?"

"What are you guys doing here?" Lynda asked in a hushed voice.

"Just keeping an eye on you," Stanley said. "Want to see this guy in action."

"Stephanie!" Lynda looked up to see Rick come in the front door. He came up to the booth, shrugged out of a leather jacket and, sat across from Lynda. "You're early."

"Sorry," Lynda smiled.

"Don't worry about it," Rick smiled handsomely. "Ready to order?"

"Sure." Rick flagged a waitress, who came over and took their orders.

"So, you like U of C so far?"

"I'm getting adjusted. It's a far cry from what I'm used to."

"I should say so," Rick said. "Tuktoyaktuk. Definitely different than Chicago. Even different from Calgary."

"Is that where you're from?"

"Yeah. Great city." The waitress returned with their coffees. Both began sipping their hot liquids. "So, what line of work are your parents in, Steph?"

"My mother's a librarian, and my father's with the RCMP."

Rick's face clouded over. "Oh. Then I guess you know about me, huh?"

"I know only bits and pieces, Rick."

"Stephanie, I didn't do what they think I did," he said in a hushed whisper. "I'm not a killer."

"Then why do they suspect you in all those murders?"

"She's doing good," Maggie murmured. "Very subtle."

"Because I knew all the girls. They were friends. I had no reason to kill them." He sighed.

"Okay, if it wasn't you, then who would do those things, and then blame you for them?"

"I don't know. It's driving me crazy." He looked deep into Lynda's eyes. "Look, Stephanie, you believe me, don't you? I mean, do I look like a killer?"

"Most serial killers give that appearance," Lynda said wryly. Rick scowled. "I don't mean that you're one, Rick." She put down her mug.

Rick put down his cup, then took her hands in his. "Stephanie, I know you don't have any reason to trust me, but I'm asking you to believe me. Can you do that?"

Lynda stared into his brown eyes. They seemed to be pleading with her, searching her soul for an ounce of sympathy or compassion. Lynda could see innocence in them, the innocence that could only come from the truth.

"I believe you," Lynda said.

"Thank you," Rick smiled, gently caressing her hands. He looked up at the nearby wall clock. "Uh, I gotta class in fifteen minutes. You think I can offer you with dinner tonight?"

"Sure," Lynda smiled.

"Okay, I'll pick you up at seven at your place."

"I live at the Max Mason Building."

"I'll see you then." He got up, grabbed his jacket, then tossed a few bills onto the table. "Bye." He left, shrugging into his jacket along the way. Lynda sighed dreamily and rested her head on her hands.

"I think we got a big problem," Stanley said to Maggie. "I think she's actually starting to like him."

"Oh dear," Maggie muttered.

Derek was walking into the dorm room just in time to see Lynda slip her feet into a pair of white flats. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks, white blouse, and a black blazer. Her hair was in soft waves and she was wearing make up.

"Kind of dressed up for an evening of staying in, aren't we?" Derek asked as he shut the door closed behind him. He threw his bag onto the love seat.

"Rick's taking me out," Lynda answered.

"Well, it's good you're trying to get close to our suspect," Derek flopped down on the bed. "Let me know where you're going so I can follow close behind."

"You're not coming," Lynda answered flatly.

"Lynda, he's a killer. I just want -"

"Derek, I don't believe he killed those girls."

"Since when?" Derek sat up. "Since today at the coffee shop?" Lynda didn't answer. "Don't tell me you're actually starting to like this guy."

"Maybe I am."

"Okay, hold on one second," Derek got up and walked over to her. "Need I remind you that he's a suspect in five homicides?"

"Need I remind *you* that I can take care of myself and I'm not a dummy?

"I never said you were."

"You're sure acting like it." There was a knock at the door. Derek went to answer it. Rick was standing on the other side.

"Oh, I think I got the wrong apartment," Rick said sheepishly. "I'm looking for Stephanie Reed."

"Right here, Rick," Lynda grabbed her purse from off her dresser and went to meet him. "Ready?"

"Hi, Lucas," Rick nodded and waved.

"Rick," Derek said through clenched teeth, although Lynda was the only one who noticed. "So, you're taking my sister out." He looked at Lynda. "Funny she never said anything to me."

"She's your sister?" Rick asked. "Wow, I would've never known. You guys don't look alike."

"Everyone says that," Lynda replied. The two began walking away, but Derek stopped them.

"Rick, you hurt her, I'll kill you," Derek said sweetly. He closed the door, leaving Rick and Lynda in the hallway.

"Kinda protective, huh?" Rick asked as they made their way downstairs and out the building. "But I guess it's just a brother/sister thing, huh?"

"Yeah," Lynda replied, knowing full well Derek actually mean what he said.

"Lynda, I really think this is a bad idea," Stanley's voice boomed over her earpiece.

"Yeah, especially when he's a criminal," Ray added. "It's not a good idea for cops to be fraternizing with them."

"Would you just shut up?" Lynda hissed softly.

"Beg your pardon?" Rick asked as they walked down the sidewalk.

"I didn't say anything," Lynda said quickly.

"Okay," Rick gave her a weird look. "Well, you hungry?"

"Famished," Lynda replied.

"I know what would hit the spot. Something everyone should have the experience of trying while living in Chicago."

"What's that?"

"Pizza."

"Pizza?"

"Yeah, I'm sure they didn't have pizza in Tuktoyaktuk."

"No, they didn't, but -"

"Then come on. I know this great pizza place." He grabbed her by the arm and lead her down the sidewalk at a fast pace.

" . . . and then when I was sixteen," Rick said around a mouthful of pizza, "Ryan and I were hiking and Rick slipped. He fell about twenty feet into the river. I never saw him. He was presumed dead. The police didn't even find a body."

"I'm so sorry," Lynda said sympathetically. "It must have been hard to accept that your brother was killed."

"And we were close, you know? I mean, twins usually are, but when he died, it was as if a part of me died with him." He took a deep breath. "That's when everything started going downhill after that."

"The murders?"

"The murders, my parents divorcing. You know, I never heard from my father after they separated. I still haven't heard from my mother. She promised to write me, but I haven't gotten a single letter since I moved from Toronto. And then there was the moving so many times . . . it just was driving me crazy. That's why I transferred to U of C. I thought I could get away from it."

"But then the murders started here as well, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You want to tell me about the girls?" Lynda asked cautiously. "I mean, if you want to?"

"Okay." Rick wiped his hands on a napkin, then leaned back. The two were in Hyde Park, eating pizza and talking. Actually, Rick was talking and Lynda was mainly listening. They sat on the grass under a live oak. It was cold and there was snow on the ground, but the both didn't seem to mind.

"Well," Rick began, "I dated Paula in September/October of '95 while I lived in Calgary. She was really sweet. Much like you, Steph." Lynda blushed. "She was found stabbed in her bedroom, a butcher knife in her back. I was questioned, but that's it." Lynda knew that was true.

"Then there was Laura. I knew her in June of '96, right after moving to Ottawa. She was found dead two blocks from our high school. She had been strangled."

"I knew Linda Roberts while in Music. She was found stabbed, her body draped over the school piano. That's when the RCMP started getting suspicious. I couldn't explain how those girl wound up dead. They never arrested me, but I was guilty. At least in their eyes."

"My parents were already divorced by the time Linda was dead. I transferred over to U of C last year, where I hooked up with Jenny Partlow. We dated a few times, then she was killed. She was found in her dorm at Brekenridge with a kitchen knife in her back. Then there was Rachel Lee, the latest victim. I knew her from Chemistry. She was found in October, strangled in the library."

Lynda knew that everything Rick had just told her was true. She had gone over all those case files with Derek the previous night. She knitted her eyebrows, then took a deep breath.

"Rick, how come you were never charged? It seems all evidence points to you."

"That's just it. It does point to me, but nothing that would stand up in court. Something would always slip up, and I'd never be charged. But I know the RCMP and FBI are looking to nail me. They're waiting for me to make a little error."

"Rick, I don't know if it means anything, but I do believe you." Lynda actually did. She couldn't put her finger on why, but she felt in her heart that Rick was telling the truth, despite everything else. Despite she knew a lot of people were going to be furious at her, she believed him.

"It means a lot, Stephanie," Rick smiled. "Thank you." He leaned over and softly kissed her upon the lips. Lynda made no move to break away and ignored the protests she was receiving from her earpiece.

It was almost ten by the time Lynda came back inside the apartment. Derek had changed into his night attire and was standing in front of the doorway when she came in. He was frowning and holding her holster, complete with gun.

"You know, if I'm not going to be tagging along after you, you should at least have taken this." He angrily tossed it on the bed.

"What's your problem?" Lynda frowned.

"My problem is that you are not doing your job, and you're trying to get yourself killed."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, how about kissing the prime suspect for starters?"

"How did you find out about that?"

"Us," Stanley said, speaking for the entire surveillance team.

"You all need to learn to butt out of my personal life," Lynda said angrily.

"Not when it involves a killer the RCMP and FBI are tracking," Derek retorted. "You are acting way out of line, Lynda."

Lynda narrowed here eyes at him. Calmly, she took her earpiece and microphone off and disconnected from the team. She grabbed her holster from the bed and put everything on her dresser. Then she faced Derek.

"You know what, Derek. This isn't about me acting out of line. This is about you,"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you're jealous."

"Of what?"

"Of the fact that I could actually like someone other than you. That's what this is about. Not about me fraternizing with, but with the fact you can't stand to see me like someone other than you."

"Lynda -"

"Well, you know something, Derek? You can be jealous all you want, okay? I believe him, and until you give me just cause not to, that's how I'm going to feel." With that, she grabbed her night clothes and went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Derek stood there for almost a minute before huffing and grabbing his stuff from the bed. He's sleep on the love seat tonight.

The next morning Lynda and Derek weren't speaking to each other, and Lynda wasn't speaking to anyone on the surveillance team (despite still being hooked up to them). She spent the rest of the morning at the library, going over some of the old cases. She was desperately trying to find something that would prove it wasn't Rick whom everyone thought was the killer.

By the time one o'clock rolled around she had exhausted all her efforts. She leaned back

in her chair and closed her eyes.

"Finally give up?"

Lynda opened her eyes to see Derek standing next to her. "No, I'm not."

"Why can't you just accept that he did do it?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Because it's not my nature," Lynda answered. "Something doesn't add up."

"Well, if you still feel that way, Lynda, then you're an idiot."

Lynda stared up at Derek, not believing what he had just said. She stood up and stared at him in disbelief. Without a word, she just left the area and walked away.

"Why the hell did you call her an idiot?" Stanley asked angrily.

"Because she's acting like one," Ford retorted.

"Shut up, Ford."

"Make me, Detective."

"Fine." Derek heard punching and arguing. First, it was just Stanley and Ford, but soon everyone, except Jasper, Travis and both Mounties. Derek sighed. This was not good.

Welsh tapped his pencil rhythmically on his desk, something he only did when he was furious. And right now, he was furious. No, he was down right enraged. Even so, he stared calmly at the group before him: Ray, Stanley, Ford, Derek, Travis, Deeter, Jasper, Maggie and Fraser.

Both Mounties, Derek, Jasper, and Travis were uninjured, but the others weren't so lucky. Ray was holding an ice pack to his swollen nose, care of Deeter. Stanley held a coke can to his angular jaw, where Ford had hit him. Ford, was holding a pack of ice over his right eye, where Stanley had slugged him. Deeter had a piece of gauze on his swollen lip where Ray had hit him.

"So," Welsh said in the calmest voice imaginable, "anyone want to tell me how an operation, containing what I thought were competent and capable officers of the law, fall apart the way it did?" No one said a word. "Who started this little fistfight?" Ray pointed to Ford and Deeter, who pointed to Stanley, who in turn, pointed to Derek. Welsh sighed and closed his eyes, trying not to go ballistic. "Constables, who started the fight?"

"Technically, it was -"

"It was me," Derek spoke up. "It was all my fault, Lieutenant."

"Explain yourself, Agent."

"Lynda and I started arguing, I called her an idiot, she left."

"Anyone bother to find out where?" Everyone shook their heads. "Continue, Agent."

"Next thing I know, I hear a lot of arguing and find out that everyone except Constables Mackenzie and Fraser, Jasper and Travis were fighting."

"Who threw the first punch?"

"He did," Ford and Deeter pointed to Stanley.

"Detective?"

"I barely tapped him, Sir," Stanley answered.

Welsh tried to remain calm. "Regardless, Kowalski -"

"Besides, no one gets away with calling my daughter an idiot. I'm sorry if you have a problem with that, Lieutenant, but that's the way things are when you're a father." He pointed at Derek. "Which means you better watch yourself, Laramie."

"Okay, enough of that," Welsh held up his hand. "Look, because of this little fiasco, we have already lost a lot of time with this investigation. Luckily, this operation hasn't been found out. I want everyone to get back to their posts and continue to work on this case. I don't care if you talk to each other or not, but you will work together, okay?"

"What about Lynda?" Ray asked.

"Find her first," Welsh instructed. "Tell her to report back to me for a new assignment."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stanley asked.

"She walked out of the middle of an investigation, Detective. I can't put up with that from anyone, even her. She's still under three months probation as a Detective. I can't play favorites. She's off the investigation."

"I'll go after her," Derek said.

"Oh, no you're not," Stanley retorted. "She's my daughter. *I'm* going after her."

"Do you have any idea where she could be?" Fraser asked.

"I think I may have an idea."

Everyone left the office, leaving Welsh to ponder about the competency of his Detectives and the other people present.

Stanley walked down the hall to his daughter's apartment. He pulled out the spare key she had given him a long time ago, and unlocked the door. He went inside, closed the door behind him, and looked around. None of the lights were on, and he couldn't see well anyway because he wasn't wearing his glasses. Nevertheless, he heard a small noise coming from the kitchen. He followed it.

Sure enough there on the floor, leaning against some counters was Lynda. She was eating from a carton of chocolate ice cream with a spoon. She didn't look up as he came and sat right next to her on the floor.

"Hey," he said.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked.

"Lucky guess." He paused. "You want to talk?"

"About?"

"About what happened."

"There's nothing to talk about, Dad."

"Lynda, you walked out of the middle of an investigation. Welsh is really peeved at you. You been kicked off."

"I thought I could do this, I really did. But I can't work with Derek. It's too hard, especially when you know how I feel about him."

"Lynda, you were doing good around him. Hell, you were doing a lot better than I ever could. If that was me working with him, I'd have decked him."

"Believe me, I wanted to."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because . . . I put my personal feelings aside."

"Why?"

"Because there was something more important to worry about."

"And when did you two start getting on each other's throats?"

"When we argued about our relationship." She looked over at her father, who nodded knowingly at her. "Okay, I get it. You're saying we shouldn't bring up the past when we're working together, huh?"

"Bingo."

She chuckled. "You know, Dad, I think that's the first time you've offered me advice that actually made sense."

"Thanks," Stanley smiled. "So, you ready to face Welsh?"

"Do I have to?" Lynda looked nauseous at the thought of facing her boss, considering how angry she knew he must be.

"Gotta face the music someday, Lynda. Don't worry, I'll be there with you." He stood up, then helped her to her feet. Lynda put away the ice cream and washed her spoon.

"Dad, what happened to your jaw? It's swollen and purple."

"Ford hit me."

"Why?"

"I hit him."

"Because . . .?"

"Because he insulted you."

"Well, as long as you had a good reason," Lynda smiled.

Stanley smiled and put his arm around Lynda. Together, they walked out of the apartment.

Ray and Stanley leaned up against Lynda's desk, arms folded. Fraser was busy fiddling with his Stetson. Maggie stood at a relaxed attention, while the FBI Agents talked nearby. All were waiting for Welsh to give his decision about Lynda's status on the case. The office door reopened thirty minutes after Lynda first came in. The young Detective walked out. She looked grim as she walked over to join the group.

"So, what's the verdict?" Ray asked.

"I talked Welsh into letting me stay on the case," Lynda answered. "But when this case is over I have to file all the reports for it, just as a reminder not to do something so stupid again."

"Look, can we get back to work already?" Ford asked impatiently. "We've wasted enough time." The group started out, but Lynda stopped Derek.

"What?" he asked.

"We're going to get this out in the open, now," Lynda said in a lowered voice. "From this moment on, no mention of the past, okay? We were doing so well until it was brought up."

"Lynda, I'm sorry about calling you an idiot. Even though you were acting like one, I shouldn't have called you one."

Lynda almost smiled, but didn't. "Apology accepted." She poked a finger into his chest. "I mean it, Derek. You do something like this again, then you can forget any possible relationship we could have had in the future, got it?" Derek nodded. "Good, now let's get back to work."

It was nearly nine by the time Derek and Lynda made it back to the dorm. Rick was outside waiting, leaning against the front door. He smiled at Lynda as she came up to him.

"You okay?" he asked her. "I mean, you weren't in class, so I hope nothing's wrong."

"No, Rick," Rick answered. "We had a difference of opinion, but it's been resolved."

"Well, you think I could pry you away for a quick walk around the block?' Rick asked Lynda.

"Sure," Lynda smiled. She turned to Derek. 'We'll be back shortly." Rick and Lynda left Derek and walked down the sidewalk.

"So, everything's okay?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lynda answered. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Whatever." Rick stared ahead as the two walked down the busy street. Lynda noticed he had a far off look, but didn't say anything. Suddenly, he jerked his head as they passed an alley.

"What?" Lynda asked.

"I thought I saw something," Rick answered.

"It's probably nothing," Lynd answered.

"No, it's something," Rick said. "Let's go check it out." He pulled Lynda into the alley and began looking around.

"Rick, come on," Lynda said. "This is stupid. I didn't see anything."

"I could have sworn I saw something."

"Look, you can stay here, but I'm going." Lynda turned and began walking away, but Rick grabbed her roughly in a choke hold.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Rick, let me go," Lynda struggled. The she saw something glitter and gasped. Rick had pulled a long hunting knife from the pocket of his jeans.

"Such a shame," he whispered. "I was beginning to actually like you."

"So, it was you," Lynda said. "And to think I actually defended you." Rick laughed. "Why did you do it?"

"They had to pay, all of them."

"For what?"

"For treating me unjustly," Rick held the knife to her throat. "They liked him better than me. I never got a break."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Rick. He was the one who got all the attention, he was the 'perfect' brother. He said he cared, but he actually laughed at me behind my back, just like everyone else. Well, who's laughing now?" He raised the knife, intending to stab Lynda, but Lynda jerked free and jumped away. Lynda rolled to one side of the alley.

'Rick' stood coldly, clutching the knife as he edged toward Lynda. Lynda tried to stand up, but she couldn't. She watched 'Rick' as he came closer and closer.

"Drop the knife!" 'Rick' and Lynda looked toward the sound and saw Derek near the mouth of the alley. Ray, Stanley, and Jasper were with him. Their guns were aimed right at 'Rick'. Another commotion caused 'Rick' to turn his head the other way. Ford, Deeter, Fraser, and Maggie had come in the other way. The Agents had their weapons drawn and aimed.

"Drop the knife and kiss the dirt!" Stanley shouted. "Now!" 'Rick' obeyed. The Agents and Maggie went after him to arrest him, while Ray, Fraser, and Stanley went over to Lynda. They helped her to her feet.

"You okay?" Stnaley asked.

"Yeah," Lynda answered. "How did you guys know?"

"Derek still had his headset on," Ray explained. "He saw Rick pull you into the alley and got suspicious."

"We need to get someone over to Rick's dorm."

"Why?" Stanley asked.

"I don't think Rick is the person who attacked me."

"What do you mean?" Fraser asked.

"It just clicked," Lynda said. "I remembered Rick telling me his brother - twin brother - fell over the side of a cliff and was presumed dead."

"Yeah, so?" Ray asked.

"Ryan's body was never recovered."

"You think that's Ryan?" Stanley asked, pointing to 'Rick', who was being cuffed by the Agents.

"Either that or Rick's a severe mental case," Lynda said wryly. "He told me that 'he' always laughed at him. It wouldn't hurt to check it out."

"Okay, let's go," Ray answered. The four and left while the others took care of 'Rick'.

Almost an hour had passed. The four walked in through the double doors of the Squad Room. The four walked into the Welsh's office, where everyone else is.

"So, what turned up?" Welsh asked.

"Lynda's suspicion was right," Fraser answered. "We found Rick McMillian stabbed in his dorm room."

"So, where's Ryan?" Stanley asked.

"The FBI's going to take him into custody," Welsh explained. "Constable Mackenzie will handle the extradition."

"Did he explain why he murder those girls and framed his brother?" Lynda asked.

"Yes, he did," Maggie answered. "When they were younger, Rick and Ryan did a lot of things together, but Rick seemed to do better. Therefore, he was praised more. Ryan resented that, even to this day. When he managed to pull himself out of the river after falling in, he learned that everyone thought he was dead. That was his opportunity."

"Ryan decided that he wanted to take revenge on his brother, but he wanted him to suffer. So, he followed Rick every place and killed the girls, then made it look like Rick had done them. Ryan always made sure to provide just under the amount of evidence needed. He knew that would drive Rick crazy, being tormented by the RCMP for murders he didn't commit. Finally, Ryan snapped completely, killed Rick, then took his place to kill you, Lynda."

"Makes sense," Lynda said. "Psychologically, anyhow. Has anyone contacted the parents?"

"We were going to," Welsh said, "but Ryan told us that he killed them, then hid their bodies. The RCMP is organizing a search party to look where he said he buried them."

"So, we're through?" Ray asked.

"Yes," Welsh nodded.

"Well, I'd better get going," Maggie said. "I have to get to Ottawa and handle the extradition papers and find out about the McMillain parents." She turned to Lynda. "Detective, it was a honor working with you. You proved to be everything I heard about you." She held out her hand.

"Thanks," Lynda smiled as she shook Maggie's hand. "I'm honored that you chose me to work this case. Maybe next time we meet it will be under better circumstances."

"I hope so," Maggie smiled. She hugged Fraser, then Stanley, then bid the others goodbye before leaving.

"We're going ourselves," Ford nodded once to everyone, then left with Deeter and Jasper. Derek stayed behind.

"Look," he started, "about what happened earlier -"

"Derek, don't," Lynda interrupted. "It's over, said, and done with, okay?"

"No hard feelings, then?" He held his hand out.

"None," Lynda replied as she shook it. The two held each other's gaze, and hands, for only a bit longer than what they should have. Derek nodded to the others, then left the office.

"Well, I guess we can call it a night," Stanley said.

"You three can leave, but Lynda still has some filing to do," Welsh said. Lynda groaned. "Hey, remember, we made a deal. And, if you do all of it, I won't tell the committee about that little incident." He handed a stack of files to Lynda, who left the office and walked over to her desk. As she sat down to type, the four men quietly made their way out of the office and the Squad Room, leaving her alone in the dark, save for the light from her desk lamp and computer.

It was an hour later by the time Lynda got to her apartment. She yawned as she made her way to the front of the building, where the doorman held the door for her.

"Good evening, Miss Kowalski," Harry tipped his hat and smiled. "How are you this evening?"

"Pretty good, Harry. A little tired, but good."

Harry handed her a small, wrapped box. "Well, I was told to give this to you as soon as you came in."

"Who's it from?"

"Can't say."

Lynda stared at the box as she walked to the elevators. She sighed as she put it in the pocket of her coat. She'd open it when she got in her apartment. She silently rode the elevator to her floor, got off, and made the small walk to the end of the hall. She removed her keys from her purse, unlocked her door, and walked in. She closed the door and flipped the light switch on, flooding the room in light.

"SURPRISE!!!"

Lynda jumped out of her skin as she turned around. She held her hand over her heart, gasping. Then, she saw what had made the noise.

Standing in her living room were Stanley (who was snapping pictures), Ray and Fraser, Frannie and Turnbull, Welsh and Thatcher, Dewey and Huey, and Regan and Dief (who had happily stayed with the Vecchio's during the entire thing). All of them were wearing party hats. A banner hung above Lynda's mantle that read 'HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY, LYNDA!'.

"What is this?" Lynda gasped.

"Your birthday party, Lynda," Stanley said as he walked over to her smiling.

"But it's not my birthday," Lynda protested. "My birthday's on February 24^th."

"That's today," Ray said. Lynda looked at a nearby wall calender.

"Oh, it is," Lynda said. "Guess I've been a little preoccupied, huh?" She chuckled. "How did you guys know? I never told any of you. Did I?"

"I looked on your file right after you became a cop, Lynda," Stanley said. "We started planning this thing about a week ago."

"Oh, thank you, guys," Lynda started blubbering. "This means a lot to me."

"Well, you're the big 'two oh'," Dewey said. "We figured we might as well do something special."

"Speaking of which," Francesca said as she walked into the kitchen with Thatcher. The two soon came out, carrying a large two-layer cake. It was a chocolate cake with white frosting covering it and red border and flowers. On the top it said 'Happy Birthday Lynda' in red frosting. Twenty candles shone brightly.

"'Happy birthday to you'," everyone began singing. "'Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Lynda. Happy birthday to you'!" They put the cake on the dining room table.

"Make a wish," Fraser said.

"Who needs to wish for anything when I got great friends like you guys?" Lynda asked. Still, she closed her eyes and waited before blowing out the candles in one breath. The cake was soon served and everyone began eating. After it was cleared away, it was time to presents.

"Well, we each couldn't decide what to get you," Stanley said as he carried a big wrapped package over to the couch where Lynda was sitting. "So, we finally decided on something together, and each chipped in." He handed the gift to Lynda, who tore it open.

Inside was a framed watercolor of a picture that was taken at Lynda's graduation. It was a group picture of Lynda in her uniform, Stanley, Ray, Fraser, Welsh, Dewey, Huey, Thatcher, Francesca, Turnbull, Dief, and Regan. Lynda stared at the picture as a tear ran slowly down her cheek.

"Oh, guys, this is the best present I could have received." She hugged everyone. "Thank you so much."

Ray and Fraser hung it over Lynda's mantle after the banner was removed. The friends stood back and admired it. Never had they seen anything look more perfect.

It was almost midnight by the time everyone had left. Lynda was happy to be back in her own apartment. She changed out of her clothes into a pair of silk boxers and a tank top, and then climbed into bed. The wolves got up beside her. She was about to go to sleep when she remembered something. She quickly got up, went into the hallway, where she got her coat from the coat closet and removed the wrapped box. She took it back to her bedroom, where she opened it on her bed.

Inside was a small, handwritten note. Lynda immediately recognized the handwriting, but read the note anyway:

Dear Lynda,

I hope that you're reading this note. I'm sorry I wasn't there to give

this to you in person, but . . . well, I guess I didn't want to face re-

jection again. Anyway, I hope you don't overreact by the present I

got you. It's just a reminder that a friend is always thinking about you,

and that both of your parents - your real parents - are always with you.

Derek

P.S. - Happy Birthday

Lynda looked inside the box and removed a delicate gold locket on a chain. An 'L' was engraved on the front. Lynda carefully opened the locket and gasped when she saw what was inside: a picture of her parents the night they got married. Lynda stared through teary eyes as she held the locket.

"Oh, Derek," she smiled. She reached for her phone on the night stand and dialed his number. She listened as the phone rang once . . . twice . . . thr-

"Hello?" Derek groggily answered. Lynda opened her mouth, but no words came out. "Hello?" Lynda just stood, petrified to say anything. Derek paused, then chuckled. "You're welcome, Lynda."

"How . . . how did you know it was me?"

"Caller ID," Derek answered. "So, you like it?"

"Yeah. How did you get this picture?"

"It's an FBI thing." Lynda smiled. "Does this mean -"

"It means a lot to me, leave it at that."

"I know," Derek replied. "And I'm glad. Happy Birthday."

"Thanks . . . goodnight, Derek."

"Goodnight, Lynda."

Lynda hung up the phone, then leaned against her pillows and sighed. "That guy can be so . . ." She trailed off as she smiled. She put the locket on her night stand, then turned out the light and snuggled under her covers. She closed her eyes.

"Woof! Woof!"

"No, guys, I'm not getting you another piece of cake. You've already had two each." They whined. "Go to sleep." The wolves grumbled and jumped off the bed. Lynda shook her heads as they left the room. "Ingrates." She sighed and slowly fell asleep.

THE END

Here's a little challenge: What do you think Lynda wished for? There's no real answer (because I don't have one), but I'm curious as to what she might have wished for. : )