Ravenous by Ray Garton

I’ll be right there,” Andrea said. A tear trickled down the side of her nose, then down past her mouth, to dangle from the edge of her jaw.
    â€œHe won’t really mean to kill you, of course,” Hurley went on, almost without a pause. “He’ll be horrified when it happens. He’ll go just a little too far, is all. He won’t mean to kill you. But you’ll be dead. And your babies will be without a mother. And they’ll be raised by your husband alone. How would that be, Mrs. Norton?”
    She said nothing. The teardrop quivering at the line of her jaw finally let go and fell to its death. Andrea Norton’s eyes, which had been locked onto Hurley’s, now slowly wandered downward, and she turned her head slightly, until she was staring down at the top porch step.
    â€œMommy!” the child inside the house called impatiently.
    â€œYou think about that, Andrea,” he said, almost whispering now. “Think about it hard, but not long. Because you never know with these guys, when they’re gonna go two or three punches over their usual quota. A couple more punches, a little harder. Or maybe he’ll pick up a heavy blunt object and use that instead of his fists. You don’t know how much time you might, or might not, have. There are places you can go, people who will help you. Like I said, you can put him in jail today, right now.”
    The baby squealed and began to cry.
    â€œMommy, pwease come here!” the child called.
    â€œI’m sorry, but I’ve, uh, I’ve gotta go, okay?” Andrea said, but her voice was thick and wet now, and she did not meet his eyes with hers, which glistened. She turned away from him quickly, and clumsily pulled the screen door open and went inside.
    â€œI hope you’ll give it some thought, Mrs. Norton,” Hurley said as he put his plastic-covered cap back on.
    â€œThuh-thank you, Sheriff,” Andrea said, her back to him. “I’ve got to go now.” She closed the front door. An instant later, the lock clicked.
    Hurley went down the front steps, left the yard, and crossed the street back to Doris Whitacker’s house.
    â€œWell?” Doris said, her thin arms folded over her flat chest. “Did you see? She’s been knocked around, hasn’t she?”
    Hurley nodded as he once again removed his cap. “Yeah, she has a black eye, Doris, and you were right to call.”
    â€œ See ?”
    â€œI had a talk with her,” he said. “I let her know she has options. Maybe she’ll think about her situation a little differently now.”
    â€œAh, well,” Doris said with a flippant shrug of her shoulder, “I think they like it if you ask me.”
    â€œWhat?” Hurley said, blinking beneath a frown.
    â€œThe women who stick around for it and never leave,” Doris said. “They get something out of it. They need it. They get off on it. That’s my theory, anyway.”
    Hurley sighed. “Look, now, are we square, Doris? Think you could stop calling us every time you see someone walking down the street? Now this, calling about your neighbor beating on his wife—that’s a legitimate reason and I’m glad you called. But really, Doris, please ... you’ve got to stop calling so many times a day.”
    â€œYou told me to stop dialing nine-one-one, and I did,” Doris said.
    â€œYes, you did, Doris, and for that, I’m very grateful. Now you’ve got to stop calling the non-emergency number, okay? Unless you’ve got a real emergency.”
    Doris frowned and cocked her head. “You only want me to call the non-emergency number when I have an emergency?”
    Hurley sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean, Doris. If you keep pressing me on this, I’ll just go ahead and put you in jail for it. There’s a law against it, you know—I’m not enforcing it, is all. Yet.”
    â€œYou’d