“Oh.” Those blue eyes filled—sympathy, distress, fatigue, Eve didn’t know. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Is she going to be all right?”
“I . . .” Eve felt her throat close again. It was harder, somehow harder, to take concern from strangers. “I don’t know. I need you to tell me exactly what you saw.”
“I—we—were going out.” She looked over as Mike brought out two thick red mugs. “Thanks. Mike, would you tell it?”
“Sure. Come on, let’s sit down.” He led her to a chair, and sat on the arm of it beside her. “We were coming out, like I said. We heard the noise as soon as we walked out the door. Shouts and, well, the sounds you hear from a fight. He was a big guy. Seriously big. He was kicking her and shouting. Kicking her when she was down. She pumped up her legs, knocked him back a little. It all happened really fast, and I think we all froze for a second or two.”
“It was just . . .” Essie shook her head. “We were all laughing and joking around, then we heard, and looked over. It was just bam!”
“He jerked her up, off the ground, just hauled her up.”
“And I screamed.”
“It got us moving,” Mike continued. “Like holy shit, don’t just stand here. We yelled, I guess, and Jib and I started running for them. He looked around, and he just threw her. Like heaved her, you know?”
“She went down so hard.” Essie shuddered. “I could hear her hit the sidewalk.”
“But while she was airborne, there was this flash. I think she fired at him as she was flying.” Mike looked at Essie and got a nod. “Maybe she hit him, I don’t know. She went down hard, sort of rolled, like she was going to try to fire again, or get up or . . .”
“She couldn’t,” Essie murmured.
“He jumped into the van. Moved like lightning, but Jib said he thought the guy was holding his arm. Like it was hurt? Anyway, he jetted. Jib chased the van for a few yards. Don’t know what he’d’ve done if he’d caught it. But she was hurt really bad, and we figured that was more important. We were afraid to move her, so I was calling for an ambulance when the guy—the other guy—the cop—comes running out.”
Fired at him, Eve thought. Flying through the goddamn air, but she’d fired at him. And had held on to her weapon. “Tell me about the van.”
“Black or dark blue. Almost sure it was black. It was new, or really well kept. Lieutenant . . . I’m sorry.”
“Dallas.”
“It happened really fast. Like—” He snapped his fingers. “And we were all yelling and running, so it’s pretty jumbled up. I tried to catch the plate, but it was dark, and I couldn’t make it out. It had windows on the side, and in the cargo doors. They might’ve been blacked out or covered, I couldn’t tell, but there were windows.”
“You may think it’s jumbled, Mr. Jacobs, but every detail you’re giving me matters. Tell me about the assailant. Did you see his face?”
“We got a look. When he heard us yelling and turned our way, we got a decent look, I think. Essie and I spent some time last night trying to put it together. Hold on a minute.”
“He was like something out of a nightmare,” Essie added when Mike went into the bedroom. “I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept seeing him, and hearing the way it sounded when he threw her down.”
“I think this is the best that we’ve got.” Mike came back in with a sheet of paper, handed it to Eve.
She felt her heart thud when she looked at the sketch. “You drew this?”
“Art teacher.” He smiled a little. “We only saw his face for a second or two, but I think that’s close.”
“Mr. Jacobs, I’m going to ask you to come into Central, work with an Ident artist.”
“Sure. I’ve got a class at nine, but I can call in. You want me to go in now?”
“It would be a great help if both of you and Mr. Jibson could go in. This sketch can be used in an ID program. And the three of you can help the police artist create the closest possible likeness.”
“I’ll get a hold of Jib now, tell him to meet us there. Where do we go?”
“I’ll take you. Tell your friend to go to Level Three, Section B. Identification Procedure. I’ll have him cleared and escorted.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
Eve got to her feet. “Mr. Jacobs, Ms. Fort, I want to tell you how much the department, how much I personally appreciate what you did last night, what you’re doing now.”
Mike moved a shoulder. “Anybody’d do the same.”