I tried to tell Sharon, at the time, that I had a weird feeling about the strange man I encountered in the lobby of her building. I don't know what it was, but he immediately caught my eye. He was approaching the elevator as I entered the building, and something about the way he moved seemed off to me. He didn't notice me until I stood beside him to wait on the elevator. I said hello and he glanced at me, but didn't speak. Several people got off the elevator when it reached the ground floor. I walked into the elevator and turned around just in time to watch him walk away. Before the doors closed, I noticed he had a slight limp in his right leg. He didn't get on the elevator with me; although, I was sure that was his intention.
Thoughts of the weird guy vanished from my mind when Sharon opened her door to let me in. All I could think about was how beautiful she looked. Wearing jeans and just a simple cotton t-shirt she was barefoot with her hair falling in waves around her shoulders. As soon as she closed the door and turned around, I leaned into her and caught her silky lips with mine. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I could taste the creamy, buttery, white wine she'd been drinking. Her essence filled my senses. She was intoxicating.
We had made plans to go out to dinner; however, she surprised me with a casual evening sitting at her dining room table, just the two of us, with the lights dimmed and a few candles burning. We ate homemade fettuccine Alfredo with soft music playing. It was romantic, and she seemed carefree and happy until I almost ruined the mood by telling her about my encounter with the strange man in her lobby. I was curious if she had seen him in the building before. I described his blonde hair, thick glasses, heavy build and slight limp. Shrugging her shoulders, she shook her head no and changed the subject. Her mood was light and flirty. She wanted to talk about us taking a trip to Napa Valley over a three-day weekend. I could understand her desire to just relax. I knew she tried hard not to constantly look over her shoulder, or peer into the shadows to see if Phillip Stroh was lurking. He was never actually there, but he might as well have been. His specter still loomed large in all our minds.
We moved to the couch after dinner. I tried, one more time, to tell her of my concern about the man with the limp. She nestled into my side and began to run her fingers through my hair. At that point, I was much more interested in kissing than talking.
That night seems like a dream now. So much has happened. My mind keeps repeating the sequence of events leading to my current situation. If only I'd been stronger, faster, more nimble; I wouldn't be sitting here banged up and thinking about cashing in all my chips. This certainly isn't the first time I've been injured in the line of duty, but this feels different somehow. It feels like maybe now is the perfect time to call it quits. I'm just not sure. I wouldn't miss the crazy hours, but I would miss the people I work with … even Provenza. When I decided to join the force, I never envisioned how my career would end. In the beginning, I was basically just an overgrown kid with a badge and a gun. I had big dreams to make the streets safer. It didn't take me long to realize my efforts were like a tiny drop of water barely creating a ripple in the huge cesspool of humanity.
And don't even get me started on the political BS associated with this job. I've seen too many good people, like Sharon, passed over for promotion in favor of the ass-kissers and BS artists that seem to abound within the LAPD. It's a game I stopped playing a long time ago. I certainly won't miss that if I decide to retire.
Still, a lot of the work has been rewarding. Solving crimes and putting murderers, rapists, and other criminals behind bars is very satisfying if not financially lucrative. I've earned a decent pension though, so I'm not too worried about starving to death. I'm more worried about being bored to death. How would I fill up the hours? I don't want to be one of those old guys who just sit around talking about the good ole days while their guts get bigger and bigger. No, there has to be more to life than that. At least I don't have to decide anything right this minute.