The following is a short story.  A tale of mystery and imagination by Stan Worthy.

Louisa told me I had cop’s eyes. She said that everytime I looked at her I made her feel as if she had done something wrong. My gaze penetrated her, “impregnated the fabric of her womanhood”, as she put it. I didn’t know if I should have have felt flattered or offended. So I asked her, ” Is that a compliment or an insult “.  ” Sort of a compliment.”  I took what I could get and didn’t press it any further.

In the three short days I had known Louisa, she always spoke whatever was on her mind. She seemed not to hold much back. She seemed honest and sincere. She was the type of person who made me feel as if I had known her before. When I first met her I believe I fell in love with her. But I wasn’t as open with her as I believed she she had been with me. I never told her I was a cop. When I was off duty I wanted to remain anonymous. I didn’t want to clock people and I didn’t want people to feel as though I was clocking them. That’s why I never volunteered to tell anyone my occupation.

Once people found out you were a cop it seemed as if they treated you differently They either were afraid to open up or they blitzkrieg you with obtruding questions such as, ” How is it being a cop?” Or. ” Have you ever shot anyone? ” And if I felt the person was being obnoxious I would put my game face on , look them straight in the eye and say, ” No, not lately.” There were some people who were actually afraid to double park if I was in the car with them.

When I was off duty I tried to forget I was a cop. Of course, it was easier said than done. The truth was I was never relaxed, even when I was off duty. I felt I always had to watch my back. Be ready to make a move if I had to. My guard was always up. I liked my space. that song by the rock group ‘the Police’ came to mind, DON’T STAND SO CLOSE TO ME.

Women have always been elusive to me. My life had been a series of platonic relationships. People never knew much about me because I never allowed them to. Besides most women wanted a commitment and I couldn’t make a commitment unless it was for a one night stand. Which meant that I was alone most of the time because most women wanted more than I was willing to give. So, the job became my whole world. Dealing with the pimps, whores and drug dealers and all of the degenerates became my social life.

Many nights were spend in front of my television watching old movies while sipping on a bottle of Jack Daniels. I always kept my revolver close by. In many ways my .38 was company. I had this crazy habit of swinging the cylinder from the gun, removing the bullets; then I would hold it toward the light so that I could see all six cylinder holes. Then spin it like a roulette wheel listening to the clicking sound it made.

Perhaps my eyes did reflect the harsh realities I’d been through. Maybe my eyes were the mirrors of my naked soul. They were trained eyes. EYES that studied people. COP’S EYES.

Louisa was softening my hard edges. SWEET AND KIND. I had never met a women so charming I was never one for that soupy poetry stuff but I was captivated by her. I was transformed into a tulip and she was sunshine making me open.

I wanted to spend more and more time with her. I didn’t know much about her but I was convinced I knew all I wanted to know, all I needed to know. Whenever Louisa looked at me with those big brown eyes my knees go weak and I wanted to jump up and down like I was in church and got the holy ghost.

i wasn’t getting the relationship off to a good start by keeping secrets from her. Or was it a secret? She never asked what I did for a living, but I knew at some point i should tell her that I was a DETECTIVE.

I could hear those voices in the back of my head. The voices of all the disappointed women I’ve dated in the past saying, ” So why didn’t you tell me you’re a cop?” Shaking their heads with hands on the hips…frowning and feeling as if I had wronged them in some way. But I didn’t want to make that mistake with Louisa. No. I had to level with her and tell her I was a cop. ‘Okay, okay I’m a cop for christsake. What’s wrong with that? Someone’s got to do it.’  But everytime my lips started to move nothing came out, not a syllable. She made me feel comfortably numb, smooth like jello. Then the guilt began to set in. I could hear that voice saying, ‘don’t let her bump up against your right side. She’ll know. She’ll feel the gun.’ I began to feel self-concious about my gun underneath my sports coat.

There was a cool breeze stirring up and Louisa suggested we leave the pier. We went back to her apartment in the west village to have a champagne toast. I was glad she suggested it, however,I went with no intention that it would lead to anything else. I was prepared to be patient because I knew that sometimes when a relationship start out too fast, it could also end that way.

We drank champagne as we listened to the steamy horn of Miles Davis playing in the background. It was late. She suggested I spend the night. “You can sleep on the sofa, if you don’t mind.” “Of course not.” I said. Somehow I managed to grab her arm gently pulling her close to me. We kissed. Stared at each other speechless. We kissed some more. Then she said, “You know everytime you look at me you look at me with bedroom eyes.” And I thought, ‘My, do I look that hungry for her?” She pressed her chest against me. We started eyeballing each other again.

I knew she was testing me. She wanted to see if I had any discipline. Most guys would’ve taken that line as a come on to try and make a move to jump into bed with her. It was going to be hard to resist the desires of the flesh, but I was going to show her as well as myself how much of a gentleman I could be. “Goodnight Louisa.” I kissed her on the cheek this time as I took the pillow and blanket from her. ” Goodnight.” she said.

After she left the room I took off my sports coat, then took off my holster and gun. I laid the gun on the coffee table next to me and covered it with my jacket. It took a while before I could get to sleep. I started to have cold sweats. Something was bothering me but I couldn’t put my finger on it. My mind was trying to recall something but I had too much champagne. The last thing I remembered was hearing Mile’s, SKETCHES OF SPAIN. Then I fell asleep, out cold.

I woke up early to a quiet and seemingly unfamiliar place. Then I remembered where I was. I was at Louisa’s. I sat up on the sofa and that’s when it hit me. The FBI poster at the precinct, that most wanted poster. “Louisa. No! It can’t be you! ” I quickly reached for my gun on the coffee table. It was gone.

That’s when I felt the barrel of a gun. COLD STEEL pressed against my back.