Page 75 of Life To My Flight

A scratch outside the door made me freeze, and I started to get scared all over again when a flashlight’s beam of light swept over my window, door, and the porch area.

“Are the cops here yet?” I whispered as softly as I could.

“Yes, they are. There’s a police officer at your door right now,” the 911 operator said.

I felt relief pour through me. “Thank you.”

I could practically feel the other woman on the other end of the line smiling. “You’re welcome, dear. Just stay there until he makes sure the scene is secure. He’ll announce himself when he’s ready for you to open it, okay?”

I agreed, and waited for a good ten more minutes before I heard what I’d been waiting for. “This is the police, you can open up now, Ms. Loden.”

I walked slowly to the door. “Can I see your badge?”

A shiny metal object wormed its way through the door, held by a man with black sleeves covering his arm all the way to the wrist.

“Ask the operator what my badge number is,” he said soothingly.

I followed directions. “He wants me to ask you what his badge number is.”

“916464. Officer Ray Murano,” she said quickly.

I flipped the entryway light on, and read the numbers that were on his badge.

“Thank you for staying with me, the right man is here,” I said to the woman.

My legs started shaking as respite coursed through me.

“I’m glad you’re all right, sweetie. Take care now,” she said as she hung up.

I opened the door, and was surprised to see a nice looking older man in his late fifties standing at the door, badge still in his right hand and holding it up for me to see.

“Hi,” I said opening the door wide. “Thank you for coming so quick.”

He winked. “It’s my job, ma’am.”

I smiled. “Still. It means a lot to me.”

“No problem, honey. That’s what I’d want if my own daughter was in trouble. Now, I want you to stay back and let me get some fingerprints. He wrote something on your door, too. So just stay away, and let me work, okay?” He instructed.

I nodded, and turned to the TV, clicking it on.

The sound of 50 First Dates started to drone in the background as I watched the older cop start casing my door for prints.

An hour and a half later, the cop was finished with the front door, and the surrounding area.

“Property is clear. Her car is trashed, though. Needs to be towed to the yard. Already dusted it for prints, but we’ll see if we can’t find anything better,” the youngest of all the cops said.

My heart sank. Mother lover, I just got that bitch back!

“Are you needing to tow it into the police impound yard, or can I tow it somewhere I can have someone fix it for me?” I asked, causing all three men to look at me.

I blushed when I had all of their attention.

Thank God I was wearing my jeans still!

“You can have it towed anywhere you want. We’ll just need to run a crime scene crew through it. Shouldn’t take very long, though. You’ll need to call the insurance provider as soon as you can. That bad boy’s gonna need some work,” the second cop said.

He was huge.

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