The detective came in and stood waiting as I resumed my seat. His hair was longish, and he had a neatly trimmed goatee. He wore tinted glasses, and his face was expressionless.
His T-shirt had a slight tear at the corner of the pocket, indicating that at times he carried something there, though the pocket seemed to be empty now. His jeans were faded and torn at the knees, but I thought they were deliberately distressed, rather than worn from use. His untucked T-shirt meant I couldn't see his belt. His sneakers (which were actually white deck shoes) were hand-decorated with sunburst patterns.
His jeans were a bit more belled at the bottom than was currently fashionable in U-town, but that made it easier for him to conceal the rig that held his handgun.
He was a smoker, and he sometimes chewed his fingernails. He was not wearing a wedding ring at the moment, but he had worn one some time recently. He was in good shape, but he was about my age, a bit too old for the persona he was projecting