I was walking down the same alley that I had almost just passed out in when I felt a car turn down it. I started moving off to the side to get out of their way when I heard the warning siren blare alerting me that it was the cops.

Great.

I slowed my pace and turned around to meet them but I was pretty sure they already knew who I was so I simply put my hands above my head, interlacing my fingers and stopped to await their brutal questioning. I noted there to be two cops, double great. More questions. I did not cope well under pressure and had a bad stirring in my gut that this just was not going to be ending well for me. They put their car into park directly in the middle of the alleyway as if attempting to intimidate me from even the sheer thought of trying to get away. The thought never even crossed my mind. Both of the cops got out of the squad car at the same time, both left their doors open, and both kept their hands on their holstered guns. I was floored, I had only been arrested once, but I had been 14 years old and "ran away" because I was fighting with my parents. They knew I had gone to Morgan's, of course, but they wanted to scare me out of doing it again so they called me in as a run-away and told the cops where to go looking. I spent about an hour in the juvenile facility with a bunch of girls that I knew would have kicked my ass the moment I so much as glanced their way before my parents came to come and pick me up. It definitely made me not want to ever go back, however, especially not as an adult.

"Jennifer Marks?" the first cop asked. He was a tall, thin guy who you could easily tell that he had devoted his entire life to the force.

The other guy, who looked like he was fresh out of high school and eager to please his veteran counterpart, switched his gun-holstered hand over to where his handcuffs were strategically placed.

"That's the name they gave me, officer. Can I help you with something?" I replied as sweetly as my anger would permit.

"No need to get smart, ma'am. We are looking into a recent possible homicide that occurred last night and your name came up as being positively identified as to having been with the victim last night. We have been asked to bring you in for questioning, is all," the first cop said.

"The murder of Morgan Connor, right?"

"We didn't say that," Mr. Something to Prove said matter of factly.

"She was my best friend. You don't think I don't know that she was murdered, wise ass?"

"Easy, Miss Marks. We just have to bring you in for questioning, okay? I can understand how hard this all must be for you. No one is blaming you for anything, you are certainly not in any trouble, we are just out to find out what happened last night to Miss Connor, that is all. Please, do not make this any harder than it needs to be," first cop said.

"Do you need to handcuff me?"

He smiled kindly, "no, you are not under arrest. As long as you cooperate and just come with us, no cuffs are necessary, I promise."

"Then can you tell your partner over there to lay off of them? He seems ready to drop and hogtie me the minute I move."

"Sergeant Daniels, lay off, eh? She is doing no harm to anyone and is cooperating fine."

Sergeant Daniels looked none too pleased but did as he was told, removing his grip from the cuffs and doing his best to relax his body, but he never took his hardened glaze off of me.

"Miss Marks, if you'll follow me," first cop said, motioning his way back to the squad car.

I followed him, shaking, but doing the best I could not to give the officers any reason that I may be hiding something. I loaded up into the back of the car and strapped my seatbelt firmly across my chest and waist. I wondered if they could actually even cite you for not buckling up in the back of a cop car. I really did not care to find out either way.

The ride to the police station was short, we were literally about 6 blocks away. I could have actually walked there faster instead of us having to sit through all of the godforsaken stop lights that they had in this city.

We pulled up into an area that was obviously designated for police automobiles alone. There were wagons, unmarked cars, motorcycles, you name it we all parked in the parking lot. Even an ambulance was parked and pulling out a handcuffed guy on a stretcher who apparently have been deemed healthy enough to serve some jail time instead of heading off to the hospital.

We parked, I unstrapped my seat belt while Good Cop opened the back door to let me out, offering his assistance in helping me out of the car. Bad Cop sat in his seat and never once turned around. The hell was that guy's problem anyway, I wondered to myself. He was probably super bullied in high school, went off to the police academy to spite all his haters and now was bound and determined to make everyone who stood in his paths life a living hell. Power trips, man. They will take even the best people down to some nasty levels.

We walked up the side steps into the gray, cold feeling building. Good Cop turned back and smile again at me, a gentle smile that almost brought a sense of calm over my nerves. Bad Cop still remained in the idling squad car, but I could feel his hard stare penetrating my back, I did not look back to confirm or acknowledge that stare, but kept walking with my head held as high as it could go. We walked through some corridors with matching gray painted walls and nothing hanging on them besides a bulletin board that posted some random bits of office information and another bulletin board that contained the striking pictures of the top most wanted men and women in America. I wondered if I ran right now if I would make that list.