The Unconventional Detective

Chapter 9

A few minutes later, Tracy poked her head into the observatory.

"Uncle Scott, I am leaving to go to the station, I will be back later."

"Are you sure you are up to it?" he asked in concern.

"I am okay, but will you be?"

"I will be fine, Craig is here, and the Chief is leaving behind some officers," he told her.

"Good, I will see you later then. I will be home in time to go to the Carnival."

"Have a good day Tracy," he told her.

She nodded. "You also uncle, call me if I am needed."

"I will," he promised.

She nodded at Craig, who nodded back, and she headed out.

"Maybe she'll stay out of trouble there," Craig said after Tracy had gone.

"We can always hope," her uncle grinned. "Trouble seems to follow her."

"I noticed that too," Craig grinned.

At the station, Tracy was ushered in and taken to the interrogation room, but it was the same story as it had been the day before. No one knew who had hired them, but they had been threatened with their lives to cooperate or else.

Tracy was getting worried, because she was getting nowhere, and the email address turned out to be a dead end.

Later that afternoon, after helping Grey with some of his paperwork, Tracy looked at the clock.

"Grey, is the academy class downstairs?"

"Yes, why?"

"I promised John I would go and say hi."

"Give the class a thrill huh?" he grinned.

"Yes. No one believes that he knows me, I guess I'll have to prove them wrong."

Grey shook his head. "Go on, we're done here."

"Thanks," she grinned and headed down the hall and down the stairs.

The class was just finishing when she walked in the door.

As she walked in, she heard someone say, "Well John, it seems like the famous detective doesn't know you after all."

Some of them snickered.

She stepped into the classroom. The class went silent. The officer over the class grinned at Tracy.

"Seems like John might know her after all. Welcome, detective."

"This is the Detective?" someone asked. "You have got to be kidding."

"Class, meet Detective Tracy Davis," the instructor said.

"Lieutenant now," she smiled.

"Why am I not surprised," the man grinned.

"You can't be Tracy Davis," one of the men said, "you are too beautiful, and you don't look like you could hurt a flea."

"You should see her in action," John grinned. "She hung off a helicopter the other night."

"That was you?" the same cadet asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I heard that you saved the President from an assassin bullet, is that true?" another one asked.

"Yes," she nodded.

"How do we know you are who you say you are," the first cadet asked.

"I don't know, I suppose you will have to believe me, won't you?"