Ok, so yeah, I really didn't mean to take almost two and a half months to update but site problems. Thank you to everyone who continues to read and review. Thanks to patrickpopp, Maritza92, YaleAceBella12, QueenSherica14, Page Parmenter, BluebloodsGreysAnatomyfan, and the guests: Coco, Turtlestalkingto, Walkerlover, Katiebug, Curritucjcub, for all your reviews. I really appreciate that you took the time to tell me what you like about my story. The only thing I will say is in response to Coco, No, not all the Reagans know Anna is a cop. Henry and Erin are still in the dark, or at the very least, she didn't tell them. Small side note: the song she's singing is Good to be Alive (Hallelujah) by Andy Grammer.

Someone once mentioned that they were hoping for some sort of crossover since she's in Miami. The only show I know that well that involves Miami is CSI: Miami which is basically a crime show set within Miami Dade County PD. Basically all you need to know is that Lt. Caine runs the crime lab, Detective Sgt. Tripp is a homicide detective.

"Good, good, good, good to be alive right about now," Anna sang along with the radio as she drove down Dade Boulevard with the T-Tops down. She was headed back to her apartment after spending time at Miami Beach. While she enjoyed a good afternoon on the beach with the breeze blowing through her blonde locks, it was a different story driving home. She had pulled her hair up, twisting the front pieces to keep them from blowing in her face as she drove. The drive was mostly pleasant with a few really great songs playing on the radio. Like the one she was currently listening to. At least, until a distinctive siren split the air interrupting the song. Red and blue lights lit up her rear-view mirror which also reflected the white and green livery of Miami-Dade County P.D. She pulled over to let them pass but they pulled over behind her. She turned down the music then drummed her thumbs on the top of her steering wheel, watching the cop car in her rearview.

The male cop got out from behind the wheel and, keeping his hand on the butt of his holstered gun, he made his way to her car. He stopped outside her door and looked her over. Anna's eyes trailed over his uniform, noticing he was a pretty average guy with a neat uniform. "Good afternoon, Miss, how are you doing this fine afternoon?" he asked.

"I'm good. What can I do for you, Officer Taylor?" Anna asked, seeing his nametag. All of Danny's, Joe's, and Jamie's advice for dealing with police was running through her head. Be nice, polite, and as cooperative as possible but don't give them any more than they were asking for. Don't put yourself in a position to be falsely accused of anything or give them any reason to suspect you of something.

"Do you have your ID on you?" he asked.

"It's in the bag." She nodded to the passenger seat. Most important of all the advice: wait until they ask you to do something before doing anything, it'll keep you from getting a gun drawn on you if they think you're a threat. She wasn't sure how she could possibly be a threat, she stood at about 5 foot 4, bright blonde hair with brown eyes, and an athletic body, but anyone could be a threat behind a weapon or moving too fast. That, she had learned at the academy.

"Take it slow."

Anna pulled her bag into her lap then pulled out her wallet. She took out her license and handed it over. "Did I do something wrong? I know I wasn't speeding." There should have been no reason for them to pull her over or for the confrontation. She couldn't think of a single one.

"You were not. New York plates but Florida driver's license?"

Maybe they had just pulled her over for the out-of-state plates. She didn't like that so much but could understand the motive. What she couldn't understand is why his hand was still on his gun. "The car's in my father's name and he lives in New York. I've been here for two years."

He looked back at the patrol car and nodded then turned back to her and drew his weapon. "Whoa! Easy!" Anna said gently, splaying her fingers on the steering wheel. This couldn't be about her plates. She didn't know what she had done but pulling a gun on her meant something serious.

"Get out of the car," the officer demanded.

Anna moved slowly and got out of her car. The officer's partner was behind the door of the patrol car also with his gun drawn. "I'm not resisting." Anna kept her hands where the cops could see them as she faced Officer Taylor.

"Turn around; put your hands on the car," he ordered.

"What did I do?" Anna asked, keeping her hands visible but not following his orders just yet.

"Put your hands on the car!" Anna sighed but with two guns pointed at her, she had no choice but to do as ordered. She really couldn't think of anything she had done to deserve this kind of treatment. Once she was in handcuffs and sitting on the hood of the police car, she asked the question again. "Where were you this morning?" the officer asked, ignoring her question.

"In lower Miami," she answered. "Am I under arrest?

"That's to be decided. We just got the BOLO to stop you."

So, they waited. Finally, a tan hummer and an unmarked sedan pulled up behind them. Two men got out and approached. Anna watched them both. Officer Taylor offered the redhead Anna's license. "Who do we have, please?" he asked. He removed his sunglasses and looked at the ID. She quickly scrutinized him. He was an older, at least in his fifties if not older, white male with red hair and a slim build, wearing a black suit.

"Maryanna Reagan, 20 years old, no record, car's registered in New York to Daniel Reagan," Officer Taylor said.

"He's my dad," Anna said. She looked over the redhead and saw the gold shield on his belt. If they had been in New York, it would have meant he was a detective, but here in Miami according to the words on the badge, he was a Lieutenant. The man next to him, a tall, bald, imposing white man in a light gray suit, had a badge that said Detective Sergeant. If they had brought in the big dogs on this, it must have been important or very serious. "Lieutenant, they won't tell me what's going on. Will you?"

"Can you tell me where you were this morning?" he asked.

"This morning?"

"Between 8 and 10:30." The detective told her.

"Well, Lieutenant ... Lieutenant …" She frowned not knowing his name.

"Caine," he supplied.

"Lieutenant Caine, I was busy with friends, in lower Miami," Anna answered sweetly.

"Don't get smart," the detective said.

"Maybe if you could tell me what this is about," she prompted.

"Murder," Lieutenant Caine said.

"Murder?" Anna asked in shock. "I could never murder anyone."

"Your car was seen fleeing the scene," the detective answered.

"That car? Where?" She nodded to her car. She tried to think of where she had been that morning but couldn't remember hearing anything about a murder near where she had been.

"Flagler and 10th." She knew that intersection. It was due east of her station house and was where she had gotten gas that morning. Something else struck her as she remembered that location. Being just down the street from a Miami P.D. station house usually meant that Miami P.D. typically had jurisdiction and that meant usually they'd answer before the county cops.

"Why is M.D.P.D. investigating a crime inside Miami P.D. jurisdiction?" She didn't want them to find out she was a cop as that fact wasn't typically accessible to other police organizations outside of Miami P.D. without some kind of request, so she couldn't reveal how much she knew about the internal workings of Miami P.D.

"Typically, The City of Miami P.D. would take the case but it's related to another one we're working," Lieutenant Caine told her.

"Well, why don't we take this conversation somewhere less public?" Anna asked

He observed her for several long moments. "She's right, take her," Caine said. Officer Taylor took her arm and pulled her to the back of the squad car and from there took her to the Miami Dade Police Department.

Soon, she sat in the interrogation room at M.D.P.D. headquarters. "You think I killed someone?" she asked. She still couldn't believe it. She hadn't been the only one at that gas station and she hadn't been in a hurry when she had left so there was no reason to think she had killed anyone.

"Didn't you?" Detective Tripp asked. She had heard another officer say his name as she had been brought in.

"I don't even have a carry permit. Why would I kill someone?" Granted, that was not the only way to kill someone but it was the easiest way.

"Don't need a permit to have a gun," Tripp said. That confirmed the victim had been shot.

"True," she agreed. In fact, in Florida, without a permit, there was no limit on owning a gun or having it locked in your car as long as you couldn't reach it from the driver's seat. The permit only let you carry it on your person in most places.

"Do you know this man?" the detective asked, setting a photo down on the table.

Anna gently pulled it closer with the tip of her finger. She didn't really want them to have her prints, at least not yet. She recognized that man. He couldn't be dead. The man in the photo was Carlos Detrik, he was an enforcer for some of the undercover games she had played in. She didn't really know him but he always was a decent guy to her when she came to the game he was on the door of. The two police officers were still watching her. A half-truth here would help her figure out how much they knew about her and about what he had been involved in. "Know him? No."

"Have you ever seen him before?" Caine asked her. She looked between the two men.

"Am I under arrest?"

"Not yet," Tripp said.

"Seen him a few times around the city but not real sure who he is. He had a scar on his left hand; it was hard to forget. You're saying someone killed him? Where? At the gas station on the corner there? Bad idea in broad daylight."

"You know where he was killed," Caine said.

She went back through everything they had told her. That her car had been seen leaving the scene at the corner of Flagler and 10th and she knew that the gas station had video cameras. There was no doubt that they had checked the security footage. "As you most likely saw on the video cameras, I was at that gas station this morning. It was either that gas station, the school across the street, the Mickey D's on the opposite corner, or the pharmacy opposite that. While technically it's faster just to take 42nd all the way up to where I work on Flagler, there's this amazing breakfast place in East Havana so sometimes I take the 1 to Coral Way to 12th so that was close and cheap."

"So, you were on your way into work?" Tripp asked.

"I didn't say that but since I work on Flagler and get my breakfast in East Havana, I know the intersection. Plus, again, I was there this morning. Kinda pay attention to things when I get gas. It is one of the top places to get your car stolen," Anna told him.

"Do you mind if we search your car?" Tripp asked.

"Need to make a phone call first." The two men shared a look.

"You're not under arrest," Tripp insisted.

"I know, but I need some advice. Either I make a phone call or I'd like to leave, please," Anna said as politely as she could. She was not about to get herself into more trouble when it could be avoided with a single phone call.

Lieutenant Caine nodded and Anna pulled out her phone. She dialed Nate's number. "Hill," he answered.

"Red, yellow, 782, Caine, Tripp," she said.

"Don't mess with me," he said. He really didn't sound happy to hear from her and she wondered if it was because she was calling him directly or because of what she had just said.

"I'm not," Anna answered either way. They had come up with a few codes if she ever got into trouble with another department. The first color meant whether or not she had been pulled into a station, red being yes, green being no. The second color was which department, green being city, yellow was county, red was state, and black was federal. The numbers were what the crime was if she knew the statute, followed by the officers' names. 782 was one of the few statues she actually knew the number to. Along with 849. That was a big one for her since 849 was the Florida Statute on Gambling. Also 790, which dealt with firearms. Though the city of Miami had its own laws and ordinances, they had to know Florida State Law as well and it had been covered in the academy.

"Can they hear me?" Nate asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.

"No."

"County?"

"Dade."

"782 is ..." She heard typing. "Homicide? Do not say another word. I don't care who they think you killed. Not a word until I figure this out."

"But—"

"I said not a word. Understood?" She held quiet. How did he expect her to answer him when he told her not to say a word? She wasn't sure so she didn't say anything. "Ok, one word."

"Understood."

"Oh, one more thing, Miller or Reagan?"

"Reagan." She knew he wanted to know if she had given her real name or not.

"Good, now, not a word." Nate hung up and Anna set her phone down.

She had to say a few more words or she would never get out of this. "I am invoking my right to remain silent."

"You're not under arrest," Tripp answered.

"If I'm not under arrest then I'd like to leave." She really should have stood and left but she knew they were just trying to do their jobs.

Tripp sighed and stood. He looked at the Lieutenant almost as if asking what to do. "Wait here," Caine told her. She flashed a smirk but leaned back in her chair to wait.

15 or 20 minutes later, the door opened and a dark-skinned man in a charcoal gray suit walked in. Lieutenant Caine was behind him. "Maryanna Reagan?" he asked. Anna nodded suspiciously. She really hoped this wasn't an Assistant State's Attorney. They were Florida's version of an Assistant District Attorney. The local prosecutor. That wouldn't be good for her. "Agent Ray White, FBI. I need you to come with me." The man flipped out his badge and ID and sure enough, it said FBI on it. It even looked like the one she had seen the year prior when her dad had sent two agents to check up on her during the whole thing with Thomas Wilder.

Anna glanced between the two men but when Lieutenant Caine didn't say anything to protest, she made a split-second decision. There was no way she had done what they said she had and to help them out she had to point them in a different direction by making sure they knew why she couldn't have done it. Nate would probably kill her for this but she pressed her fingers down on the table to push herself up, and purposefully and subtly leave her prints, then grabbed her phone, and followed Agent White out of the room. He led her to the front desk where they gave her back her bag and car keys. Once outside, Agent White led her to a sedan. "You'll give me a lift?" she asked.

"They impounded your car."

That had been why she asked him to give her a lift. "To the impound lot then?" she clarified.

"Fine."

Once they had pulled away from the police department, she looked at him. "So, Agent White, what exactly did you owe Nate for? Or is this just a happy, little coincidence?" she asked.

"That seems personal," the man deflected.

"I'm sorry." Though he was right, she knew that appearing sweet and gentle could win her more points, more honey than vinegar as the saying went.

"Don't be. You're curious, I like that."

She was glad it had worked. She added a little more butter though. Maybe there'd come a time when she could use this relationship to her advantage. You never knew when a friend would come in handy. It had worked with the defense lawyer Oscar Warsaw. "Is there a way I can pay you back for this? Even if Nate did owe you for this, you're basically taking my word I didn't do this. I could be lying."

"Nate believes you, that's good enough for me."

"Oh, I see. Well, still, thank you."

"Nate and I went to high school together and I trust his judgment. My boss on the other hand …" he trailed off and she knew what his boss would think.

"It's good to be owed a favor. Especially from local cops."

"It is."

"So, it is a favor to Nate but because he owes you or because you need him to owe you?" Anna watched him but he didn't give anything away. "Interesting."

"What is?" He glanced at her.

"Your lack of an answer. Oh, don't worry, I haven't figured it out yet, but I will." She could always get Nate to talk. He owed her that much anyway. At the very least to tell her whether or not he had outed her as a cop. She didn't touch on the subject for the rest of the drive.

She met up with Nate at the station after getting her car back. It was a bit awkward for her to be meeting him here because they never met at the station house. He brought her into an out of the way interrogation room and sat down next to her. "So, tell me what happened," Nate said.

Straight and to the point. Nate was always like that. Being a detective, she knew it helped him get all the facts without a lot of fluff and helped him figure things out quickly so he could make the best plan of action. She wasn't sure what kind of cases he had investigated before he became her handler but she knew it was probably not homicide. He wasn't afraid of dead bodies, they had seen a few on the job, but he way he knew the gaming and gambling laws told her he had been working organized crime for some time. She focused on his blue eyes and told him everything she could. "I was coming back from the afternoon at the beach when they pulled me over. Next thing I know I'm handcuffed and staring down Lieutenant Caine and Detective Sergeant Tripp. Then they're bringing me in for questioning in the apparent murder of Carlos Detrik."

"Carlos? The bouncer from that gambling ring we took down four months ago?"

"Yeah. I guess he got off light or whatnot. Anyway, this morning I went for breakfast in East Havana, there's this joint that ... not the point, then I noticed that I needed gas. The site told me it was cheapest at the corner of Flagler and 10th so I went there. When I parked, I had to go and their bathrooms are on outside of the building. I went and when I came out, I saw Carlos. He needed directions, hadn't been that far east before, and he was talking about a game he had heard about. I guess he headed for his car on the other side of the gas station as I went inside to pay. I got my gas and went about my business. I guess not long after not long after that he died."

"You didn't do it?"

"Had no reason too. They said he was shot to death and I don't own a carry permit."

"Don't need one to kill someone."

"True but I'm not 21 yet so unless I'm on duty, I'm not allowed to have a gun on me by law outside of my house. It's a felony if I get caught unless it's locked in a case in the trunk of a car and my service weapon is registered. They'd know if I did it. I also can't carry my duty weapon off duty because I'm not 21 yet and Florida has no open carry law." The only reason she could have a gun in her car was if she was going to or from the range and that was the only place she was allowed to have it in her hand aside from her apartment.

"Do you own a gun?"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that?" The both sat in silence for a few moments studying the other person. She wondered why he wanted to know if she did have a personal firearm and he probably wanted to know if she did. She waited for the verbal confirmation of the look on his face.

"Yes."

She sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Two actually. A Winchester .22 rifle I bought off a guy at a gun show and a Ruger .45 that I bought through a private sale from a little old lady who had it from her long-passed husband." Both of those were the only legal ways for her to buy a gun before her 21st birthday. Until then she was not allowed to buy it from a state run or private run gun shop. It had to be from a person or from a gun show. What she didn't know is that would hold true for about another year and then after that, Florida would pass a new gun law banning anyone under 21 from buying a gun.

".45 on a Ruger?" Nate asked.

Ruger didn't typically make .45 caliber guns because they were so big but they had made a few in the past. "P90. Seven plus one mag. It's a tank. Never had to use it outside the range." The gun magazine held seven rounds plus one in the chamber and the thing must have weighed at least two pounds, which was a decent size for a hand gun though she had heard of some weighing up to four pounds.

"That's good."

"Look, I'd say test my hands or shirt but we all know what water and time due to gunshot residue." Mostly, it washed it away so there was nothing to test. And she could have changed since she was at the gas station so there was a possibility the test would come up negative for that reason. However, if he did test her it would come up negative because she hadn't done it and it had been weeks since she had been to the range.

"True but I believe you. The only motive you could have had is being pissed that he only got a few months. You worked so hard to bring them down and here he is free to do what he wants just a few short months later."

"Exactly but he was the doorman. He literally just stands at the door. I'm not angry. He allowed it to happen but he had nothing to do with the financial side or convincing people to come gamble. I'm not mad." She hoped she was convincing to him.

Nate nodded, finally looking like he believed her. "Lay low. Keep your head down. Let this blow over."

"So don't go to work?" Anna asked lightly. She would have loved to have a few more days off.

Nate rolled his eyes. "Didn't say that. Try not to bring attention to yourself."

"Understood."

It took a week and a half but she heard through the grapevine that they had solved the murder. As it turns out, it was another guy that had been pissed Carlos had only served a few months instead of the years others had gotten. Anna knew that Nate would probably tell her to leave it but she felt she had to go talk to the lieutenant. She drove to M.D.P.D. station. She waited at reception until she saw the red-headed lieutenant. "Lieutenant Caine," she said when he stopped next to her.

"Ms. Reagan," he acknowledged.

"I wanted to apologize. I didn't mean to be difficult. I wanted to help but some things are out of my control."

"Your prints were in the system."

"Then you know why I couldn't have killed him." She was a cop who didn't want to lose her job and killing someone was the fastest way to do that.

"I do."

"He didn't deserve to die but I'm glad you figured it out."

"Follow the evidence. It's what we do."

"I prefer to convince people to tell me what they did." She shrugged.

"People aren't always honest."

"No, but I'm also really good at reading people. Again, I apologize."

"No need but thank you."

"I'll see myself out." She smiled then turned and left the station. From there it was back to the daily grind.

I would love to know what you think about this chapter. Thanks.