"Man, this bites," Lynda grumbled as she hobbled out of Cook County General on crutches. Her left foot - which wasn't broken, just sprained pretty badly - was wrapped in an Ace bandage. She was dressed back in her regular clothes, except for the left boot which her father carried.

"Yeah, no kidding," Ray said. "You must have paid a pretty penny for that turtleneck."

He was eyeing the back of her shirt, which looked like a weedeater got a hold of it. The bandages that covered her back were clearly visible.

"Huh?" Lynda looked at him. "Ray, I was talking about the Academy. Because of my

injuries, I won't be able to do anything except my studies for the next five days."

"Your instructors will understand," Fraser said. "Besides, it's Saturday. You'll only be

missing three days of your training."

"Yeah," Stanley agreed. "And if they got a problem with it, they can talk to me." He

chuckled. "You know, it was kind of funny to see the doctor's reactions when you told them you were in the Police Academy." The foursome soon came to Stanley's black GTO.

Lynda smiled as she leaned against the car, lifting the weight off her foot. "Yeah, it was.

Thought their eyes would bulge out of their heads. Think they've never seen a cop-in-training."

"Well, Lynda, you are only nineteen years old," Fraser pointed out.

The young woman sighed. "So, now what?"

"You are going home and resting," Stanley said bluntly. He unlocked the car doors and,

after Fraser and Ray were situated in the backseats, helped his daughter into the passenger's seat. He got in himself, started the engine, and drove off.

When they were all in Lynda's apartment Lynda went to her bedroom and changed. While

her jeans had apparently made it through her little adventure, they clearly needed to be washed. Some of the dirt was so imbedded into the fabric Lynda thought she'd never get them clean. The shirt, on the other hand, was now only good for the trash. Oh well, she thought, it happens.

She slipped on a pair of loose-fitting, black sweat pants and an oversized white cotton T-

shirt, then hobbled back out into the living room. Stanley immediately made her lay on the couch before propping her foot up with a pillow. Ray had grabbed an ice pack from her freezer and gingerly placed it on her foot. Fraser handed her some painkiller that were given to her by Dr. Carter and a glass of water.

"Thanks guys," she said after finishing her water.

"You need anything else?" Stanley asked.

"No, I'm fine." Lynda settled into the soft downy couch pillows, then looked up. All

three of them of them were staring at her intently. "What?"

"You sure you don't need anything?" Ray asked.

"Guys, I'm fine, okay? You don't have to stay here and look after me like I'm some

invalid."

"But how are you going to get around?"

"Dad, that's why they gave me those." Lynda pointed to her crutches, which were

propped up against the couch.

"How are you going to get to work?" Ray asked.

"I can still use my right foot to work the pedals." Lynda's voice hinted annoyance.

"What about -?"

"Enough with the twenty questions," Lynda answered irritably. "I think I already said I

can handle it." She sighed. "Why don't you three go out and do some guy thing together?"

"Such as?" Fraser asked.

"Shoot pool, play basketball, go see a movie, watch football, I don't care. I'm getting

really cranky."

"No kidding," Ray murmured. Lynda scowled at him.

"Fine, we're going," Stanley answered. "But if you need us -"

"I'll call, okay?" Lynda answered. "Besides, if there's any problems, Dief will help me."

She looked down under the coffee table -his 'cave'- to see the wolf lounged on his back, sleeping.

"Oh, yeah, I'm really convinced," Stanley answered sarcastically. Nevertheless, he and

the others started to leave. "Lynda, you sure you don't want us to stick around?"

"Go!" Lynda said, pointing to her door. "Or I'll whack you with my crutches." She

sounded angry, but her face hinted a smile. Stanley and the others smiled before leaving her apartment. After the door was closed Lynda looked at Dief. He was laying on his stomach now, and looked quizzically at her. "What?" Dief gave a short whine. "Oh, I'll be fine."

"Woof, woof."

"You worry too much. We can still go on our evening walks. It'll just be a little slower

paced." Dief came out from his 'cave' and sat next to Lynda. He put a paw on her lap, then barked. "Oh, now don't you start with me. I am so going to take you out on your walks." She shook her head. "You know, you can be just as bad as Dad." She grabbed the tv remote, turned on her tv, then flipped through the channels until she came to a nature program on, what else, wolves.

Lynda and Dief watched it until Lynda fell asleep. Then, carefully, Dief took the remote and, using his paws, flipped through the channels until he came to his favorite program, Rin Tin Tin. He sat down in from of the large screen and just watched his hero with a big doggie smile.

The weekend passed and Monday came, just as it always did. Despite her injury, Lynda

went to her Academy classes, then headed over to the 27^th District Police Department. She and Dief entered the Squad Room precisely at noon, ready to face the remainder of the day.

"Lynda, what happened?" Francesca asked alarmed as she hurried up to her. "Are you

okay?"

"I'm fine, Frannie. Just a little accident over the weekend."

"Do you need any help?" the brunette asked hesitantly. "Or you think you can handle

yourself?" Lynda looked like she was having difficulty walking on the crutches and carrying her backpack on her back.

Lynda smiled gratefully. Francesca, while being a little on the unusual side at times, was

one of the few people at Division who didn't treat Lynda like a little kid - at least, not anymore. Lynda could never understand why. Maybe it was because the Civilian Aides could both relate to being treated not the way they wanted; Stanley treated his daughter sometimes the way Ray treated his sister. Then again, maybe it was because in her group of friends, Lynda and Frannie were the only females, and so felt they had to stick together. "That's okay, Frannie. I'll be fine."

Lynda quickly made it to her desk, fully aware of the stares she was receiving. She

carefully took her backpack off and placed it on her desk, sat in her chair, then propped her crutches against the side of her desk. She turned on her computer and waited for it to warm up.

"Good morning, Lynda," Fraser greeted her as he walked up to her desk. Lynda looked

up and smiled at the Mountie in the brown uniform. Stanley and Ray were with him, each dressed in their normal attire. "Did you get to work okay?"

"Yeah."

"How was class this morning?" Ray asked.

"Fine. I have my first test tomorrow, but I think I can handle it."

"No problems with the driving?" Stanley asked.

"None," Lynda answered quickly. "I was able to drive perfectly fine, like I said I could."

Dief, who sat beside her, whined, then barked. Fraser raised his eyebrows, then smiled

amusingly at Lynda. "Is that true, Lynda?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Fraser."

"Really? Well, Diefenbaker says that you two had to take a cab because you weren't able

to drive properly."

"Traitor," Lynda frowned at the wolf.

"Lynda, I told you so," Stanley said, shaking his head. "I knew you wouldn't be able to

drive with your leg injured. Why didn't you call me? I would've come and picked you up."

"I can do fine on my own, thanks," Lynda answered coldly. "I'm not a convalescent,

okay?"

All three men were completely taken aback by Lynda's response. This wasn't like her.

Still, they knew her long that asking the wrong question would be risking bodily harm. Nevertheless, they were curious as to the reason behind her sudden outburst.

Fraser cleared his throat. "Is something the matter?"

"No." Lynda typed furiously on her keyboard.

"Yeah right," Stanley retorted. "Spill it."

Lynda grumbled. "You want to know what's wrong? I hate being treated like I can't

take care of myself."

"What do you mean?" Ray asked.

"The way you guys hounded over me on Saturday. And now this."

"Lynda, we care about you," Fraser said.

"I know, but -" Lynda paused, then sighed. "But you three should know me well enough

that I like to do things on my own."

"Lynda, you're walking around on crutches," Stanley said. "You need help."

"That's my problem right there," Lynda replied. "You automatically assume that I need

help. You don't even give me a chance to let me try on my own."

"And if can't do it on your own?" Ray asked.

"Then I would at least know." She took a deep breath. "And only then would I ask for

help."

Stanley snorted. "Yeah right. No offense, but you are one of the most stubborn people in

the world, Lynda. You wouldn't ask for help if your life depended on it."

Lynda smiled. "A trait which I seem to have inherited from you, Dad." Everyone else

smiled. "Look, all I'm saying is just let me try, okay? Give me a chance."

Stanley patted her on the shoulder. "You got it."

"Yeah, we're sorry, Lynda," Ray chimed in.

"I forgive you," Lynda grinned. "Next time, though, I'll kill you."

"Whatever," Stanley rolled his eye. "Uh, listen, do you think you can do a search for

me?"

"Sure," Lynda faced her computer again. "Whatcha need?"

"Run a background check on a Jonathan Parkers," Stanley answered. "Find out where he

lives in particular."

"Okay." Lynda went to work and in one minute flat, received every single thing known to

man on Parkers. "Here you go. Jonathan Taylor Parkers, age 32, graduated class of '87 at Chicago U., majored in Computer Engineering - hey, wait a minute."

"What's wrong?" Stanley asked.

"He was my professor when I was a freshman last year," Lynda raised her eyebrows.

"What did you major in?" Ray asked.

"Computer engineering . . . so, why are you going after him? He didn't do anything, did

he?"

"Well, there was a robbery in his lab this morning," Fraser explained. "We're just going to go ask him some questions."

Lynda quickly printed up the record, then handed it to Ray. "Current address is on there.

Tell him I said hi, okay?"

"You don't want to come?" Stanley asked.

Lynda shook her head. "I've been on my feet all day. Besides, I think Welsh would

prefer me to stay here, considering how I'm now only working for half days anyway."

"Suit yourself." The three left Lynda. Together they walked out, and nearly ran into two

young ladies. They were both about Lynda's age and dressed in jeans and T-shirts. One was African-American, with dark cocoa skin, jet black hair, and almond-colored eyes. The other had lightly-tanned skin, blond hair darker than Stanley's, and blue eyes framed by glasses.

"Sorry," the blond apologized. "Uh, does Lynda Kowalski work here?"

"Depends," Stanley said. "Who's asking?"

The blond smiled. "Alana Ryle." She nodded to the girl beside her. "And this is Annie

Entzminger." Annie smiled. "We're Lynda's friends from the Academy."

"Well, she's over there," Stanley pointed to where his daughter's desk was. He rushed

passed the two young girls and left the Squad Room. Ray nodded, then followed his partner.

"I apologize for my partners' behavior," Fraser said. "They're in a rush, so -"

"Come on, Fraser!" Stanley called.

"Excuse me." Fraser nodded before catching up with his partners.

"Okay," Annie said slowly. Together, the young girls walked over to Lynda's desk,

where the young Civilian was typing up some information. "Hey, Lynda."

Lynda looked up and smiled. "Oh, hey, you two. What brings you down here?"

"We were thinking that since we have that exam tomorrow," Alana explained. "We could

maybe get together after you get off work. Have a study group or something."

"Sure," Lynda agreed. "We can meet over at my place, if that's okay. I'm sure Dief

won't mind." She scratched the wolf's furry head.

"Hey, Dief, how are you?" Alan knelt beside the wolf and petted him. "Oh, you're so

cute."

"Not as cute as that guy with the Mountie," Annie replied. "The one in the brown Armani

suit."

"Ray?" Lynda stifled a giggled. "You gotta be kidding."

"Yeah," Alana agreed. "Besides, the blond one is cuter." Lynda lost it completely and

howled in laughter. Alana and Annie frowned. "Something you'd like to share with us, Lynda?"

"The blond one is my father," Lynda gasped, tears rolling down her eyes.

"You're kidding," Alana answered. Lynda shook her head. "That's Stanley Kowalski?"

"Yeah," Lynda smiled. "And his partner is Ray Vecchio."

"Well, what's a Mountie doing hanging out with them?" Annie asked.

"That's Constable Benton Fraser," Lynda explained. "He first came down to Chicago to

catch the killer of his father."

"And then he just . . . stayed?" Alana asked. Lynda nodded. "Why?"

"Who knows," Lynda answered. "But I'm glad he did. Can I tell you guys something?"

"Sure," they answered.

"You want to know why I know so much about tracking and police procedures?"

"Your father and Ray?" Annie guessed.

"That's partially right," Lynda nodded. "No, actually, Fraser's been teaching me. He's

taught me everything from how to track a suspect to escaping techniques."

"Has he been teaching you all your self-defense as well?" Alana asked. "Because that

would explain what you did to Officer Howard last week."

Lynda smiled, remembering exactly what her friend was talking about. When Officer

Timothy Howard asked her to get out of a choke hold - thinking she wouldn't be able to - Lynda had in fact managed not only to get out of the hold, but also managed to incapacitate her 'attacker'. Officer Howard was a little embarrassed, but was equally impressed as well, and asked Lynda to demonstrate that move to the class. "No, he didn't, Alana. I've been studying martial arts for almost ten years now."

"You think you could teach us some of that stuff?" Annie asked.

"Sure. But it will have to wait until my foot heals. I mean -"

"Lynda, what do you think you're doing?" Welsh's voice boomed. Lynda looked up to

see her superior standing next to her, his hands on his hips. "Who are these people?"

Lynda looked sheepish. "Uh, these are my friends from the Academy, Alana Ryle and

Annie Entzminger. Guys, this is my boss, Lieutenant Harding Welsh."

Welsh nodded to the two young ladies. "Lynda, this had better be about a potential case,

otherwise I'm bound to think your wasting time socializing."

"Lieutenant, sir," Alana intervened, "please don't get mad at Lynda. We were discussing

about forming a study group. We'll leave. See you at five, Lynda." She and Annie quickly left.

"Sir, I'm sorry -"

"Save it, Lynda," Welsh answered. He eyed Lynda's leg. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, I, uh, got dragged by a horse over the weekend, sir."

Welsh raised his eyebrows. "Have you seen your father or Vecchio about a Jonathan

Parkers yet?"

"Yes, sir, they left about five minutes ago to go and speak with him. Did you know that

Parkers was my professor when I was at Chicago University last year?"

"No, I didn't." Welsh cleared his throat. "Well, I'm going back to my office. Contact

your father and Vecchio. Tell them about the information in this file." He tossed a small manila folder on her desk. "It's from Forensics." Welsh left and went back into his office.

Lynda picked up the folder. "Yes, sir." She picked up her desk phone and dialed her

father's cell number. "Hey, Dad . . . where are you? Yeah, well, Welsh just handed me some information on Parkers and the robbery from Forensics. It seems like more than just fingerprints were found at the scene . . ."

"Okay, so what does the arresting officer do after controlling the suspect?" Alan asked, reading from a small booklet. She was lounging on Lynda's love seat, dressed in satin, hunter green pajamas. A green mask covered her face.

Lynda, who was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, chewed on a carrot stick, was

dressed in a purple nightshirt. Annie was sitting on the couch, dressed in a blue nightshirt and putting Lynda's hair in a braid. Both of them had the same green mask on their faces. "The arresting officer reads the suspect his Miranda rights: 'You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up this right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the court. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?'" Dief was lounging under his 'cave', occasionally begging - and getting - a treat from Lynda.

"Good job, Lynda," Annie smiled. "What's the mission statement of the CPD?"

"The Chicago Police Department, as part of, and empowered by the community, is

committed to protect the lives, property and rights of all people, to maintain order, and to enforce the law impartially. We will provide quality police services in partnership with other members of the community. To fulfill our mission, we will strive to attain the highest degree of ethical behavior and professional conduct at all times."

Annie and Alana stared open-mouthed at her.

"How in the world did you know that?" Alana asked.

Before Lynda could answer, there was a knock on her door. "Coming," she called out.

She looked at her wall clock. Eight-thirty. She got up from her spot and went to the door. "Who is it?"

"Who do you think?" a familiar voice answered.

Lynda smiled as she opened the door. Standing in front of her were her three favorite

men. "Hi, guys." The threesome stared at her. "What?"

"Uh, Lynda," Stanley said, "I don't know how to tell you this, but you got avocado on

your face."

"It's a face mask, Dad," Lynda answered.

"I thought you were studying," Ray spoke up.

"We are," Lynda answered as she let the three men in. "We're almost done, actually."

Annie and Alana sat up straighter as Lynda brought her guests into the living room. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Alana Ryle and Annie Entzminger. They're my friends from the Academy."

"We met the earlier," Fraser nodded to the two ladies. "It's good to see you again."

"Annie, Alana, I'd like you two to meet my father, Ray, and Fraser."

The two ladies smiled.

"Lynda, just out of curiosity," Ray replied as he looked around the room, "how is it you

can study when it looks like you're having a sleep over?" The living room had pillows, blankets, papers, makeup, and snacks scattered everywhere.

"Ray, when you keep up with your studies, you don't have to do as much studying later

on," Lynda said. "Since we're almost done, we're going to do some girl-stuff, then get some rest."

"What's your first test over?" Fraser asked.

"Police procedures, definitions, 10-Codes," Lynda answered.

"Okay, you think you're ready?" Stanley asked. "What's the definition of Statute of

Limitations?"

"It's the period of time within which a lawsuit must be brought, after which it is barred for lapse of time," Lynda answered quickly. "In Illinois, a prosecution must be commenced within three years of the commission of a felony, or within one and one half years of the commission of a misdemeanor. There is no limitation on when a prosecution can be brought for murder, involuntary manslaughter, reckless homicide, treason, arson, or forgery."

"Is that right?" Stanley whispered to Fraser. The Mountie nodded.

"Okay, what am I saying when I say '10-83 at 2926 North Octavia Avenue, possibly 10-

85'?" Ray asked.

"You're saying that there's a disturbance, possibly a knifing, at 2926 North Octavia

Avenue," Annie answered.

"Wow," the American-Italian answered. He turned to his partners. "I think they're

ready."

The three girls smiled confidently.

"So, what brings you three here?" Lynda asked as she started gathering up her studies.

"Just wanted to see if you would like to take a break or something," Stanley answered,

"but it looks like you already got that covered."

"You can still stay," Alana answered dreamily.

"Yeah, don't mind us," Annie added.

Lynda and the guys raised their eyebrows at the two ladies, but only Lynda knew why.

She tried to cover up a laugh by coughing instead. "Uh, Annie, Alana, can you go into the kitchen and get a popcorn refill, please? The bag of seeds is in the pantry and the popper's under the fourth cabinet on the right." She handed a huge bowl with kernels to Annie and the two ladies disappeared into the kitchen. Soon, the popper started.

"So, what was that all about?" Ray asked.

"They like you," Lynda smiled. "A lot."

"I don't believe this," Stanley said. "How come is it that everywhere we go, women are

always falling head over heals for Fraser?"

"Actually, Dad, Alana likes you and Annie likes Ray."

"Really?" the two Detectives smiled.

"Now, don't get any ideas," Lynda held up her hands. "They're way too young for you

guys."

"Someone sounds a little jealous," Ray teased.

"I am not jealous. I just don't think you're that cute, Ray. And, Dad . . . well, I'm your

daughter, so we don't even need to go there."

Alana and Annie soon returned with a bowl full of freshly popped popcorn.

"So, you think you can stay for a while?" Annie asked.

Lynda shook her head slightly. Fraser saw it immediately. "Well, we'd like to, but made

prior engagements that cannot be broken. Good night, and good luck tomorrow." He quickly herded the two Detectives out of Lynda's apartment.

"Yeah, good luck, Lynda," Stanley waved before three men disappeared.

"I think he likes me," Alana giggled.

"You wish." Lynda rolled her eyes as she sat on the couch.

"'Alana Kowalski'. Has a nice ring to it."

Lynda threw a pillow at her. "If you and my dad got married, then you'd be my step-

mother. I don't think so."

"You don't think he's cute, Lynda?"

"He's my father, Alana. I'm not supposed to think he's cute."

"What about Ray, then?"

"Annie, he's nice, but . . . to tell you two the truth, I'm not into this entire guy thing much

anymore."

"What do you mean 'anymore'?" Annie asked.

"To put it mildly, the last relationship I was in ended on a really sour note," Lynda leaned

back against the couch. And what's even stranger: I still love him."

"Was he cute?" Alana asked.

"Very cute. Brown hair, green eyes, tall enough for me to just put my head on his

shoulder. But that wasn't why I loved him."

"Then why?"

"Well . . . he was sweet, and understanding. He was a perfect gentleman, always making sure I was happy. He even brought me a rose when I returned home from being gone for a month."

"Wow," Annie sighed. "So, what happened?"

"He lied to me about who he really was, and I . . . didn't take it too well."

"Bummer. Well, you still have us."

"That's right, Annie," Alana agreed. "Now, since we're done studying, let's party!" She

went to Lynda's stereo, turned it on, and cranked up the volume. Soon, the three girls and wolf were dancing in the living room. Actually, Lynda was sitting on the couch while the others danced around the living room. By the time one o'clock rolled around, they were all reluctant to go to bed, but they knew they needed to. They cleaned up the living room, then fell fast asleep.

The next afternoon, the three trainees came out of the Academy classroom where they had finished taking their test. Lynda was still on her crutches, but she was now able to drive, so the trio walked to the cherry red '57 Chevy parked in the parking lot.

"So, how do you think you did on the test?" Annie asked.

Lynda unlocked the driver's side door, then reached over and scratched Dief's head. He

was sitting in the driver's seat, anxious for the girls to come back. "Hey, Dief. Thanks for watching the car." Dief woofed back happily. "To be honest, I thought it was really easy." She put her crutches in the back seat as Dief and Alana got back there too. Lynda and Annie climbed in the front seats and soon they were off. "How did you guys think you did?"

"Easy," Annie answered.

"Piece of cake," Alana agreed.

"This is Unit 1-1-8 in pursuit of two suspects heading south on Michigan Avenue - at the

corner of Chicago Avenue - in a green, '96 Neon, license number is JCB-896. The driver is mid-thirties, brown hair, black eyes, wearing a white T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. The passenger is about same age, with blond hair, brown eyes, wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and brown boots,"

Stanley's voice crackled over Lynda's CB radio. Lynda quickly looked up at the street

signs. They were on Michigan Avenue at the Randolph Street intersection going north. "Hold on." Lynda pushed her foot down on the gas as she sped north on Michigan Avenue. She ran

two stop signs, three lights, and whizzed around eight pedestrians.

Stanley sped after the Neon in his GTO. Ray was beside him and Fraser was sitting in the

backseat. He was edging closer to the back of the green car. "Almost gotcha."

The two cars were speeding over the Chicago River when the Neon suddenly did a 180 in

the middle of traffic, nearly causing a ten-car pileup. It sped off in the opposite direction. Stanley sharply turned the wheel of his car and was about to give chase when a red, Chevy Convertible shot past the GTO and took off after the suspects.

"That looks like Lynda's car," Ray said as the GTO drove after the red car.

"It better not be," Stanley said. "I'll kill her myself if it is."

Lynda, meanwhile, had managed to get in front of the Neon. Gritting her teeth, she

slammed on her brakes as she turned the car in a sharp, 180 degree turn. The Neon came to a halt twenty feet in front of her.

The suspects got out of the car and ran in the opposite direction, just as the GTO pulled

up. Ray and Stanley got out and whipped their guns from their holsters. "Chicago Police!" they yelled. "Freeze!"

The suspects just turned around and ran away. Lynda quickly got out of her car, pulled

one of her crutches from the backseat, and hit both of them square in the face. They toppled to the ground. "I believe the Detectives told you both to freeze," she answered calmly. She motioned Dief to her side. "Dief, hold." The wolf's back immediately bristled, and he drew back his lips in a sinister looking snarl as he stood over the two suspects.

Lynda looked up as her father and Ray approached her. The smile that was on her face

quickly faded. They didn't look happy.

"Lynda, who the hell did you think you were?" Stanley frowned at her.

"Yeah, you could have gotten yourself killed," Ray retorted. "And your friends."

"You are not a police officer," Stanley put his gun away. "You cannot go gallivanting

around the city - speeding through traffic - after criminals who are packing heat and dusted."

"I'm sorry," Lynda replied. "I was just trying to help." She had never seen either of them

this mad at her.

Stanley silently counted to five. "Get back to Division, Lynda," he said as calmly as

possible. "We'll discuss it there."

Lynda knew this wasn't the time to argue. "Yes, sir. Dief, let's go." She put her crutch

in the backseat as Dief jumped into the car. She got into the car herself and drove away.

"Having problems?" the first suspect sneered as Stanley lifted him to his feet.

"Shut up," Stanley said before slapping handcuffs on his wrists.

Lynda sat at her desk in the Squad Room, drumming a pencil against her hand. Dief was sitting next to her. Alana and Annie had both stayed around, but remained quiet. Frannie was at her desk, typing on her computer, but occasionally shooting glances toward her fellow Civilian Aid. Their curiosity finally getting the better of them, the Duck Boys ventured over to Lynda's desk.

"So, anything?" Dewy asked.

"Nothing." Lynda looked at her wristwatch. It had been almost an hour since her father,

Ray, and Fraser were talking to Lieutenant about her little escapade through Michigan Avenue. To make matters worse, Welsh had called in Lynda's instructors from the Academy, who in turn, called the Police Commissioner.

Suddenly, Welsh's door opened. He stuck his head out and motioned for Lynda to come

in. She quickly obeyed. After the door was shut and Welsh was seated back in his chair, Lynda stood in front of her superior. Stanley, Ray, and Fraser were on one side, Officer Howard, Officer William Bryan, and Commissioner Trent Fitzgerald were on the other side.

Welsh sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Lynda, I'm sure you understand why

you're here."

"Yes sir."

"I want to start off by saying what you did - while doing it with good intentions - was

wrong. You had no business speeding through the city chasing after criminals. I'm sure you have a good explanation for it?"

"I wanted to help," Lynda answered honestly. "But I know that the way I went about it

was wrong, and for that all I can say is I'm sorry."

"Your apology is accepted, Lynda," Welsh answered. "But as you know, your actions

cannot go unpunished. I've been talking with your instructors, and we all agreed that you're not going to be expelled from the Academy. But until further notice, you are on probation. If you do anything to violate the terms of your probation, you will be expelled. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Also, you will be fined for all the traffic violations you committed," Welsh continued.

"And I am willing to pay them," Lynda answered. "While I was waiting, I calculated how

much it was going to cost me."

"And?"

"$1,278.93. I'll pay it today before I get off my shift."

"Thank you," Welsh nodded. "You're free to go back to your station."

Lynda nodded, then quickly left the office, and went back to her desk. Alana, Annie,

Dewy, Huey, and Frannie were waiting.

"Well?" Annie asked. "How'd it go?"

"I'm pretty lucky," Lynda answered. "I haven't been expelled, but I have been put on

probation, and I have to pay some traffic violations."

"How much?" Huey asked.

"$1,300 worth."

Dewy and Huey grimaced. "Ouch."

"You know, I don't know why they're making such a big deal," Frannie said. "I mean,

you caught the criminals, right?"

"Yes, Frannie, but I did it through reckless endangerment," Lynda answered. "I could

have ended up wrecking my car or causing an accident."

"Or a lot worse," Stanley spoke up. He walked up to his daughter's desk with Ray and

Fraser close behind. "Lynda, you could have gotten killed. Those two guys were arrested were drunk and packing heat."

"Yeah, what if one of them had pulled out a gun and shot you?" Ray asked.

"But isn't that one of the risks I'm assuming when I become a cop?" Lynda asked.

"Yes, but you're not a police officer, yet," Fraser said gently. "You're still learning."

Stanley sighed. "Lynda, look, you're my daughter. If something had happened to you

today . . . I don't what I would have done. I just want you to be safe, okay? That's why I was so angry earlier."

Lynda nodded. "And what about the assault charges?"

"How did you know about those?" Ray asked.

"I saw the report on Welsh's desk," Lynda answered.

"We were able to talk the suspects out of charging those complaints," Fraser replied.

Stanley chuckled. "Yeah, by telling them that they would have to explain that they were

resisting arrest before being struck in the face by your crutch."

Lynda smiled. "Thanks guys. I'll be more careful next time."

"Why did you it?" Ray asked.

"I wanted to help. I mean, ever since I could remember, I've wanted to help people."

Stanley patted Lynda on the shoulder. "You're going to make a great cop, you know

that?"

"I know," Lynda grinned. She cleared her throat. "Well, considering what just happened,

I'd better get back to work. Welsh isn't too pleased with me, and I need to work extra hard to get back on his good side." Everyone left, but Ray, Fraser, and Stanley.

"Oh, Lynda, thought you might want to know that we solved the case with your

professor," Stanley said.

"That's good to hear. Who robbed his laboratory?"

"He did," Ray answered.

"What?" Lynda looked shocked. "Why?"

"Insurance money," Stanley said.

"How did you find out it was him?" Lynda asked.

"Remember that report you gave us from forensics yesterday?" Lynda nodded. "Well,

there were traces of a chemical that was found only on the waterfront. We went down there and asked some questions. Found the chemical was used in a detergent that was made at Canal Street."

"Turned out, one of the employees was hired by parkers to steal the equipment," ray took

over. "All the stuff that was stolen was stashed in the guys apartment. We were able to nail both of them and return the stuff undamaged."

Lynda frowned. "You think you know a guy . . ."

"Yeah, I know it bites big time," Ray agreed. "But hey, listen, how does dinner sound?

My treat?"

"That sounds nice, Ray," Lynda smiled, "but how about if I make you three dinner

tonight? I can make a mean spaghetti."

"Count me in," Stanley replied.

"I'll be there," Fraser nodded.

"Sure," Ray put his two cents in. "It'll save me some money." Lynda laughed, then went

back to work on her computer. The three partners left to attend to some other business.

"Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!" Lynda bounded into the Squad Room Wednesday afternoon. Her ankle had completely healed. Dief was running just to keep up with her. Everyone looked at her as she ran over to Francesca.

"Happy?" the Civilian Aid asked, smiling.

"Very," Lynda answered, grinning from ear to ear. She waved a piece of paper in front of

Francesca's face. "I got my examination back from yesterday."

"And?"

"I got a hundred."

"Hey, congratulations!"

"Thanks. Where's Dad?"

"He's in with Welsh. But-"

"See you later, Frannie." Lynda ran off to Welsh's office. Without knocking, she burst

in. "Hey, Dad, guess what?" She ran up to her father and thrust the test papers in his hands. "You remember that test I took yesterday? I got a hundred!"

"That's great!" Ray smiled. Fraser smiled as well.

"'Dad'?" a new voice answered. Lynda noticed for the first time the woman standing next

to Welsh's desk. She had blond hair and blue eyes, and was wearing a white business suit. "What do you mean 'Dad'?"

"Exactly what I said," Lynda answered.

"He can't be your father," the lady answered.

"Oh yeah?" Lynda put her hands on her hips. "And just who do you think you are to be

saying something like that?"

"Stella Kowalski," the woman answered. "Stanley's my ex-husband."

"You're Stella?" Lynda asked.

"Oh dear," Fraser murmured.

"That's right," Stella answered. "And I can definitely say beyond the shadow of a doubt

that we never had any kids, right, Stanley?"

"No, we didn't," Stanley answered. "I did."

Stella looked at her ex-husband. "What?!"

"You didn't tell her?" Lynda asked.

"You mean to tell me that while we were married, you slept with some slut?" Stella asked.

"Don't you dare call my mother a slut!" Lynda glared at the Assistant State's Attorney.

"And I was born before you two even got married."

"Alright, that's enough," Welsh intervened. "Obviously, there's a matter here that needs

to be cleaned up. Detective Vecchio, Constable Fraser, could you please excuse us?" The two left quickly. Welsh sat in his chair.

"Do I know her?" Stella asked.

"Know who?" Stanley asked.

"Her mother." She nodded at Lynda. "And what's your name, by the way?"

"Lynda. Lynda Kowalski. My mom was Diane Peterson."

"Oh, my God," Stella whispered as she sat down in a chair. "Then they were true."

"What?" Welsh asked.

"The rumors," Stella answered. "After we graduated, and before Stanley and I got back

together, there were rumors going around that the reason Diane left suddenly was because she was pregnant. And Stanley was the father."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Stanley asked.

"I didn't want to believe it." Stella looked like she was ready to cry, but she stood taller.

"I hope you're happy, Stanley. You wanted children. Now you have one, and you never told me. Goodbye."

"Whoa, wait just one second," Lynda spoke up. "Don't get mad at him for something he

didn't know about. I only showed up about five months ago claiming to be his daughter." Lynda took a deep breath. "You know, I try not to be judgmental about people. But if you're going to treat my father this way without knowing the entire story, then maybe my mom was right in hating you." She left the office, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Just like her mother," Stella muttered.

Stanley turned to face Stella. "Look, Stella, whatever happened between you and Diane

ends here. If you're mad, then be mad at me, but be mad only after knowing the entire story. And don't take it out on Lynda. None of this is her fault." He left Stella and followed his daughter.

Francesca was at her desk, typing. When Stanley came out of the office, Francesca

pointed down the hall. Stanley walked down it to see Huey and Dewy looking into Interrogation Room 2. "Is she in there?" he asked.

"What happened?" Huey asked.

"Lynda and Stella met for the first time," Stanley answered.

"Ouch," Dewy answered.

"No kidding." Stanley went in the room. Lynda, Ray, and Fraser were sitting at the lone

table in the middle of the room. "Hey."

"I'm sorry," Lynda mumbled. "I wouldn't have gone in had I known she was in there."

"It's okay," Stanley sat in the seat next to his daughter. "You have nothing to apologize

for."

"So, what's with this rivalry that Diane and Stella had going?" Ray asked. "Lynda was

just telling us they hated each other."

"They did," Stanley answered. "They competed in so many things: school, popularity,

sports, drama . . . me."

"So, what's going to happen now?" Lynda asked.

"Who knows."

There was a knock on the door. Everyone turned to see Stella stick her head in. "May I

come in?"

"Sure," Stanley answered.

Stella came in and closed the door behind her. "I'd like to apologize to Lynda. You were

right, Stanley. This wasn't her fault, and I shouldn't get mad at her for it, nor should I get mad at her because I didn't like her mother. And I don't have any reason to get mad at you either. Lieutenant Welsh explained to me that you really didn't know about Lynda until she showed up asking for your help."

"I appreciate that," Stanley smiled.

"We both do," Lynda replied.

Stella looked at father and daughter standing together, and noticed just how alike they

looked. "Well, I have to be getting back to work." She smiled briefly. "Goodbye." She left, leaving the four by themselves.

"Wow, she's cute," Ray said. Stanley glared at his partner. "What?"

"That is my wife, Vecchio."

"Ex-wife," Ray retorted.

"Okay, okay," Lynda quickly jumped in. "Look, why don't we get back to work. I have

things to do, and I'm sure Welsh has a case or something. Besides, you never said how proud you are because of my perfect score. Hell, if I keep this up, maybe I'll be Valedictorian again."

"You were Valedictorian?" Ray asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm very proud," Stanley smiled. "My GPA was only sixty-two percent."

"Well, listen," Lynda said, "before anymore trouble happens, why don't we get back to

work? We have a lot to do before dinner tonight."

"Such as?" Stanley asked

"Shopping," Lynda answered. "I have to get noodles, Parmesan cheese, tomato sauce, mushrooms, garlic, meat, and oregano. I also need to get a french roll to make homemade garlic bread."

They four stood up to leave, but Lynda stopped her father. Ray and Fraser left.

"What?" Stanley asked.

"Did you really tell Stella all of that?" she asked. "I mean, with her not blaming me or

getting mad at me?"

"Yeah. This wasn't your fault, Lynda."

"Do you ever regret being with Mom?"

Stanley put his arm around Lynda. "I'm not much on pouring my heart out, so bear with

me. You know how I felt about your mother, and you know how I feel about you, right?" Lynda nodded. "Does that answer your question?"

Lynda hugged her father tightly. "Definitely."

Together, they walked out of the interrogation room to face the rest of the day.

THE END