The caller reported a woman screaming in the parking lot of a large apartment complex. I was the Plano Police Department sergeant on duty and Steve Storie was my 2nd in command. We took the call together.
We arrived about the same time. A car with three doors standing open was stopped in the middle of the drive through the parking lot. Several feet out from the driver’s side, an empty purse lay on the pavement with its contents scattered for several feet around. I spotted a wallet and found a driver’s license, which gave an address in the nearest building. The apartment was on the second floor.
Steve and I climbed the stairs to the landing and knocked on the door. No response. We pounded and shouted “Police!” Still no response. The door was locked. I had dispatch find a phone number for the name on the driver’s license. No answer on the phone, either.
About that time, another door on the same landing opened. A man stuck his head out and said she had come running up the stairs screaming and sobbing earlier. She had rushed into her apartment and slammed the door. As soon as he gave us that information, he ducked back into his apartment.
I pounded the door even harder, screaming “POLICE!” Still no response. I looked at Steve, who was easily 50 pounds heavier than me, and ordered him to “Take down the door.” Steve stepped back and rammed the door with all his weight. The doorframe shattered and the door flew open.
We entered cautiously with guns drawn just in case, and began a quick sweep of the apartment. The woman was in the bathroom, lying on her back stark naked, legs together, arms at her side, and apparently unconscious. There was water in the shower and her hair was still wet. She had put on makeup after showering. On the shower floor was a safety razor, indicating she had shaved her legs. It took only seconds to assess the situation – suicide attempt.
Steve was already calling for an ambulance. The girl was unresponsive. As Steve got off the radio, he helped me stand her up. With our arms around her waist, we tried to induce a walking response as we moved her to the living room for the paramedics, but her feet just dragged behind her.
We got her to the living room and eased her into a sitting position on the sofa. Steve noticed an empty pill bottle on the drainboard in the kitchen and retrieved it to give to the paramedics. He came back into the living room and stood facing the sofa when he let out a world class belch.
The girl jerked upright, eyes wide. With a look of loathing on her face, she exclaimed, “YOU’RE DISGUSTING!” She immediately passed out again and fell back on the sofa.
The ambulance arrived and took her to the emergency room where the doctor determined she was merely drunk. The pills she had washed down with booze were antihistamines. There would be no long-term ill effect. I never learned what had caused her to attempt suicide, nor what became of her afterward. But I never let Steve forget that he was disgusting.