Trust Me, I'm the Police

A guttural sound woke Sarah up from a dead sleep causing her to spill her bed sheets on the floor. Her cat, Bits, that curls up cozily on her chest at night flung off her in her fit as she could no longer feel his weight on her. Feeling around her bed in the dark room for her phone until her hand wraps around it causing its screen to illuminate her area. Wait, she thinks. Where is Bits? Again, she hears the same guttural sound that disturbed her sleep earlier coming from the corner of her bedroom. Sarah uses the flashlight on her phone to find the sound is Bits who, instead of groaning at her for flailing him off her chest, is curled into a tight U-shape in fright.

This causes Sarah to feel fear creeping up her spine. Bits has only reacted this way towards her friend’s dog that she watched while that friend was out of town. Luckily, it was only two short, but felt forever long, days.

She feels too afraid to make a sound. Wanting to ask her cat what he even sees. She pats the mattress of the empty spot of her bed next to her making a clicking sound with her tongue to call Bits back into bed. This just seems to rile Bits up even more. Tightening up the U-shape she was always surprised to see his fat body take. The phone’s flashlight glosses over his eyes and Sarah sees that he is staring out one of the two windows in her bedroom. Her queen-sized bed nestled comfortably between the them.

Mustering up all the courage she can gather after the startling noise and disfigurement of her cat, she pulls herself over the edge of the bed, letting her bare feet touch the cold wood floor of an autumn evening. Sarah considers what to do. Clarity, or maybe more like reluctance, settles in. Phone still in her hand, she switches the flashlight off and checks the time. Fifteen minutes past three in the morning. Now annoyance of struggling to go back to sleep to get a good rest before her busy day at work in the morning- she feels the courage fueled by irritation bring her to a standing position and the nerve to look out the window at what has caused Bits to be so frightened.

Sarah uses two fingers to peek through her wooden blinds. Bits makes one more guttural meow and runs under her bed. Scaredy cat, she thinks.

The apartment is rather old and mimics that of an old motel. One long balcony with stairs on each end that all the tenants of this building share. Sarah sweeps her eyes from left to right as best as she can and doesn’t notice much out of place. Halloweens decorations are staged along the balcony and maybe Bits caught a glimpse of those? Or the cold, autumn wind caused something to move and cast a shadow along the window? Satisfied, Sarah scans one more time before deciding how to coax Bits out from under the bed so both of them can go back to sleep when a flash of light blinds her. She lets go of the blinds and takes a stumbling step backwards, bumping items on her nightstand. Gathering her composure, she peeks out the blinds again. Trying to create a smaller opening this time.

She comes face to face with an older man who is waving a very bright flashlight through her window. She feels the sensation of fear this time, but stronger. He notices her too. A smile spreads on his face as he pulls his flashlight away from the window to relax it at his side. Sarah notices he’s in a police officers’ uniform. This makes her feel a little more at ease, but now curiosity is taking over.

The police officer takes a few steps down the balcony and Sarah realizes he is going to her front door.

Knock, knock, knock. Three heavy knocks startle her into coercion. She grabs the robe hanging on her bedroom door and wraps herself up. Bits is back to making that guttural sound under her bed.

She unlocks the deadbolt but leaves the chain on. She understands he is a police officer, but the uneasiness in the situation still unnerves her.

“Hello?” Only showing half of her face. She looks him up and down. He is dressed to the nines in a police officer’s uniform. Weapons, handcuffs, baton, all included. The flashlight still on and hanging at his side in his left hand.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry to disturb you at this late hour.” He lifts the flashlight through the crack in her door, shining its bright light in her living room through the small space she gave.

Sarah slowly steps in the way of his light. This feels weird, she thinks. “How can I help you, Officer….?”

“Smith.” He replies in a terse voice.

“Officer Smith.” Sarah says to fill the silence. He lowers his flashlight back to his side.

“We received call from one of your neighbors. They said they caught a stranger going into your apartment.” His eyes dart left to right looking down the balcony. “Have you noticed any disturbances?”

Sarah stands there for a while, closing the gap in her door even more. “Wait, what?” She asks again, confused.

“Ma’am, please. Ms. McCormick, is it? The neighbor stated the man was lurking around the complex and forced his way in through your living room window right here.”

Sarah looks at the window he is pointing at. Even closing the front door and walking to it. Nothing seemed off. The blinds still closed, the curtains undisturbed, the locks and screens in place. She pulls the door back open a crack. “No, Officer Smith, nobody is inside. The window looks fine.”

His eyebrows crease and Sarah realized his posture never really changes. Straight and stiff, aside from the moving of his flashlight. “Please, may we come in and have a look?”

“We?” Sarah darts her own eyes around, similar to Officer Smith, to look for the other officers. A loud scream in her head is telling her to take caution; this situation is strange.

“The rest of my team is downstairs talking to the neighbor that made the call.”

Sarah catches that. “Wait. If the neighbor is downstairs, how did they see this intruder come in through my window?”

Officer Smith’s eyebrows crease even more. “My team is discussing that now. It is most likely they stepped out of their apartment and watched the intruder, then made the call. Now please. Let me in so I can assure that you are safe.”

The screaming in her head is louder. “You or we?”

This drops the straight posture the officer has been holding. Just a subtle movement that Sarah catches. “My team will follow me. I will radio to them once I, er, we have permission to enter.”

In that moment, Sarah decides she in not going to let this officer in. The screaming in her head and the unnerved Bits under her bed are too telling of this situation. Sure, the officer is dressed in a uniform, but honestly, she has no clue what is a right or wrong uniform for an officer to wear. Also, she doesn’t know really know her downstairs neighbor. In fact, two of the apartments are vacant below her. But she has watched many true crime shows. So, she asks, “What’s your badge number?”

“I am Smith, 24532.” He responds quickly and confidently. “Please, ma’am. Let us make sure you are safe.” His voice softer now.

Rats. She wasn’t even sure how many digits an officer’s badge number should be for her local police station. This is as far as her true crime training has come.

The two stare at each other. She listens for footsteps down below the other officers, but all she hears through the small crack in her door is silence. Then another thought crosses her mind. Something she has seen several times on her true crime shows and even been advised to do if pulled over by a questionable vehicle. “I understand, Officer Smith. Please give me a moment to get myself together and I will let you in.” She shuts the door, but his hands stops it. Back to shining the flashlight through its crack.

“The neighbor was adamant he saw someone and inspecting your window, it does appear to be tampered with.”

Sarah’s eyes widen. Aside from the two vacant apartments, the two below her are both females. She opens the door wider to cause his hand to fall, then slams it shut quickly. Locking the deadbolt as it shuts to cover up the sound of the lock sliding into place. She dashes to her bedroom for her cellphone. She is going to make a call to the police station to confirm if police were dispatched to her complex. This way she can ensure he is a true officer, no matter how freaked out he has her. This whole situation is terrifying her.

She places the call to the non-emergency line and peeks back out her bedroom window to see the police officer still waiting at her front door. Bits makes another but more intense guttural meow. A hiss follows with it.

“I was wondering if someone caught me slipping in.” A deep, shaky voice says. Its hot breath running down the back of her neck. “You should’ve believed him.”

Strong and calloused hands wrap around her throat.