Tim headed to the bedroom and leaned against the jamb.
“Marty, you forgot to mention the assault charge.”
Marty turned from the bed where he was stuffing clothes into a duffle bag. “Man, that was four years ago. Asshole put his hands on my kid sister.”
“So you were defending her honor?”
“Told you I don’t get off on mistreating women.” He zipped the bag and hefted it over his shoulder then leaned down to grab the handle of a suitcase on the floor.
“Can I go?”
“Yeah, you can go,” Tim said.
He gave a nod and shouldered out of the room, leaving the apartment in silence. A door slam and engine rev later, he was gone.
“Now what?” Ashley asked.
“Unless you want to file a report, we get out of your hair,” Tim said.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head, sending her hair over her shoulder only to flip it back. “I just never want to see him again. I have the worst luck with guys.” She giggled and glanced at Kevin.
“Don’t hesitate to call if he bothers you again,” Kevin said.
Only his years of professionalism kept Tim from sighing. Kevin was new enough to the force to still have a hero complex. Tim had learned a long time ago most women weren’t looking for a hero.
On the way back to their cruisers, Chuck stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You gonna talk to him about that?” He crooked his head at the closed door of the apartment.
“Yeah.”
“You headed back to the station?”
Tim checked his watch. “We’ve got about thirty minutes left on shift. Why?”
Chuck grinned. “No reason really. Wondering if you were going to have the rookie type up the report.”
Tim smirked. “What’s the point of being an FTO if I can’t pass off the paperwork to the trainee?”
“You know I can hear you, right?” Kevin asked from behind them.
Chuck looked over his shoulder. “So? Be glad Chief put the kibosh on glitter bombs. McCain had to shave his beard to get rid of it all. He looked like a stripper-fairy had ridden his face.”
Tim grimaced. “Chief banned them because that shit got everywhere. The whole damn department sparkled for weeks.”
“It did help arresting a couple of potheads, though.”
“How’s that?” Kevin asked.
“They got distracted by the ‘ooh, shiny.’” Tim wiggled his fingers. “They thought we were taking them to a rave.”
Chuck laughed and slapped Kevin on the back. “So be glad the only thing you get is paperwork.”
He broke off to his car. “You playing softball Saturday?” he called.
“That’s the plan,” Tim said. As he opened the car door, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he turned to look at the apartment. A gap in the blinds closed. He slid into the car, keeping an eye on the apartment until Kevin pulled away from the curb.
“What number did you give her?”
“What do you mean?” Kevin asked.
