Typically, the city was quiet at 3:30 in the morning. No cars cruising around. No people out and about, or almost no people. There was one couple who were casually strolling along the vacant streets hand in hand. It was a beautiful night for a relaxing walk. The weather was just a bit too cool to count as sultry, but it was close. Perfect, even. They were enjoying the stillness and the soft conversation that they were sharing. Both of them noticed the police car approaching from a block away, slowly making its patrol rounds. It pulled up to a stop next to where they were. The windows on the vehicle were already down, and the driver greeted the ambulating couple as if they were well-known friends, which in fact they were.
"Good evening, folks, or should I say 'Good morning' instead?" said the officer. "All quiet, I suppose?"
"Sergeant O'Hanlon, how are you?" said the man.
The woman with him replied, "Good evening AND good morning, Sergeant. Yes, it's quiet, and quiet's good."
The man stooped down a bit to get a better look inside the car. "I don't recognize your partner there, do they have you breaking in another new troop again so soon?"
"Yeah, I guess it's my lot in life to train all these rookies," O'Hanlon replied with feigned resignation. "This here's Officer William Tate. New on the force; just out of the academy. Tate, say 'hello' to Mister and Missus Randolph."
"Good morning, sir. Good morning, ma'am," said Officer Tate, touching the brim of his cap with his fingers and trying hard to be upright, proper and to project an air of authority he didn't quite feel.
Both of the Randolphs smiled at his politeness, and Mr. Randolph said, "No need to be so formal, Officer Tate. I'm James, and this is my wife, Jessica."
Jessica smiled at Tate and added a "nice to meet you, William."
The first thing Tate noticed was that Jessica had a beautiful smile, and then it occurred to him that the rest of her was no less stunning. She was wearing an emerald green silk blouse that came down to just above her waist, and a black skirt that ended well above the knees. Interestingly, she was barefoot but was carrying a pair of strappy high heels. Well, sometimes women don't like to wear shoes, especially high heels, if they have to walk a lot, thought Tate. A closer look at Jessica's blouse showed it to have an unusual, almost iridescent quality to it when she moved in relation to the street lamps, as if there were a sort of golden undertone to the fabric.
O'Hanlon explained, "Tate, the Randolphs like to take late night walks, so you'll be seeing them often if you ever draw duty on this beat."
Tate processed that bit of information and asked James, "Aren't you two concerned for your safety, walking around town at this hour?"
Mr. Randolph just smiled, and a knowing look passed between him and Sergeant O'Hanlon, who asked, "What are you carrying tonight, James? If you don't mind me asking."
"I've got a nine millimeter Beretta Nano," was James' reply, "and, no, I don't mind you asking at all."
"I don't believe I've ever hefted that one," said O'Hanlon, "could I, uh. . .?"
"Oh, sure," replied James, reaching into his waistband and retrieving the firearm.
Tate was getting a little apprehensive about a pistol being brandished about, and O'Hanlon noticed. "It's alright, Tate. Mister Randolph has a concealed carry permit and more time on the range than both of us put together. He's an ex-Navy SEAL."
James extracted the magazine gingerly, racked the slide to verify that it was empty, and handed it - barrel pointing toward himself - to Sergeant O'Hanlon, who examined it with great interest.