“So you didn’t put your hands on her?” Chuck asked.
“I pushed her away a couple of times while she was wailing on me, but I didn’t shove her and I didn’t hit her. Bitch deserved it, but my mama and sisters would tan my hide if I ever mistreated a woman.”
Tim assessed Marty then shared a look with Chuck.
“Stay here,” he told Marty.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “Not going anywhere until I get my stuff.”
They walked a few steps away.
“Do you believe him?” Kevin asked in a low voice.
“Not sure,” Tim said. “Not a lot of guys would admit to getting beat on by a woman.”
“Something’s hinky,” Chuck said. “But I’m not sure if it’s him or her.”
“Does she want to press charges?” Kevin asked.
“Nope,” Chuck said. “She said she just wants him out of the apartment.”
“Let’s make that happen then,” Tim said.
He walked back to Marty with Kevin while Chuck went back in the apartment.
“Here’s the deal, Marty. She doesn’t want to press charges, so we’re going to make sure you get packed up and moved out.”
Marty put his hands together like he was praying and looked heavenward. “Praise Jesus. Hallelujah. Thank you.”
“Let’s go.” Tim tilted his head toward the open apartment door.
Marty beelined for the short hall, not looking at the woman still standing in the kitchen, and Chuck followed him.
The woman watched them, nervously chewing on a fingernail.
“Ma’am, can you please come out of the kitchen?” Tim asked.
She flinched, as if she wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to her. “Sure. I was getting some water.”
Something about her behavior seemed off. He’d unfortunately been on enough domestic violence calls to recognize micro signs of abuse and this girl’s reactions felt forced.
“Is there somewhere you’d like to go while he packs?” Tim asked.
“Do I have to leave?” She sat down at the two-seater table.
“You don’t have to.”
“Is there someone you’d like to call to sit with you while you wait?” Kevin asked.
She peeked up at him through her lashes. “No. I’m okay.”
Tim glanced at Chuck, who mouthed, “Hinky.”
Yeah. Hinky was a good word for it. “Kevin? I’m going to step out and call this in.”
Kevin nodded once. “I’m good.”
Tim asked for the woman’s driver’s license and she pulled it from the purse on the table. Stepping into the doorway of the apartment, he kept an eye on the group inside. The call to dispatch only took a few minutes and when he returned inside, the girl, Ashley, was smiling up at Kevin and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she took a business card from him. Hopefully it was one of the abuse hotline cards they carried and not his own.
