I was lounging on the couch in my media room, watching NASCAR on the big screen. There was a commercial on right now, and my mind was wandering. A knock on the front door brought me back to reality.
As I approached the front door, I heard a radio squak outside. I tried to peek through the sidelight glass, but it was frosted, so all I could see was a shadowy form close to the door, and a flashing coloured light in the background. Police? Why?
I cautiously opened the door. The officer had his back to me. No. A pony tail of dark brown hair hung down to the middle of her back. Ladycop. About 5’9″.Tall Ladycop. Her uniform pants were snug, but not really complimentary. Gun belt, bulletproof vest… Not very feminine. She said something into her radio and holstered it. I quietly braced for her to turn around, expecting a butch, unattractive look. She turned.
Whoa! Was I wrong! Even without makeup, she was stunning. Full lips, high cheekbones … very nice. But was her eyes that made the biggest impression. They positively sparkled. Somewhere between brown and hazel, and surrounded by long dark lashes. Even though she didn’t smile, her eyes did.
Officer… Brewster, it said on the velcro patch of her vest. Officer Brewster explained that the reason for her visit today was due to the escape of a prisoner in the area. She asked if it would be alright for her to come in and check around the back yard.
“Of course. Please do.” I stepped aside.
Officer Brewster followed me through to the sliding doors of the patio. “Please, stay here,” she said as she unsnapped the holster for her Glock. “I wouldn’t want to shoot you by accident,” she added with a smile, giving me a quick scan with her beautiful eyes. She slid the door aside and went out.
I watched from the doorway while she did her Rambo routine, checking the shrubbery, corners and utility shed, her right hand always on her right hip holster. She was all business, but she moved with such cat-like grace, it was pretty hot to watch.
Satisfied that no one was hiding, she relaxed, and said something into her radio. She was closing the holster for her gun when she returned.
“All clear. Thank you for you cooperation,” she said pleasantly as she stepped back in. She asked a few questions about how long I have lived here, which neighbors I know, etc. She finished with “and how many people live here with you?”
“Actually, I live here alone”. That was met with a mild look of surprise, then a tiny hint of a smile. I began to walk her out, while my brain was wracked, trying to judge the risk of hitting on a woman who carries a semi-automatic weapon. I decided on the subtle but direct approach.
“Officer Brewster, may I ask you a question?”, I asked as we reached the front door.
“As long as it doesn’t pertain to the case, then yes”. Still all business.