“I’m sure the victim thought the same. You were there with a small party?”
“Yeah, but there wasn’t any trouble.”
“Who were you with?”
“My fiancée, Cheyenne Case; my best friend, Nick Patelli—we work together—and his date, Sylvie MacGruder.”
“Just the four of you?”
“Yeah. Double date. We had drinks at Du Vin, then Sylvie wanted to try this new place. I must make her pay.” He smiled wanly when Peabody came back with a glass holding ice and ginger ale. “Thanks, really.”
Closing his eyes, he sipped slowly. “Easy, stomach. Everything was fine when we left. I guess it was about six-thirty or six-forty. You don’t need reservations for Jamaica Joy. I can currently attest to why.”
“Did you notice anyone who left when you did?”
“I wasn’t paying attention. I was pushing for Italian, and we were sort of joking around because I pretty much always push for Italian.”
“A man, right behind you,” Eve prompted.
“Like I said, I wasn’t … Yeah, yeah, now that you mention it. I guess there was this guy who stepped out when we did, and we were talking. I guess blocking his way. He might’ve had to wait a minute before we started moving again.”
“Any sort of description?”
“I really didn’t see him. More sensed him, the way you do, and honestly wouldn’t have remembered if you hadn’t pushed on it. Maybe I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye for a second. Not really his face, just the presence. He killed somebody? In the bar?”
“We’re hoping to identify him, speak with him.”
“But nothing happened when we were in there, and he left when we did, so…”
“A woman was attacked downstairs mi
nutes before you and your party and this individual left.”
“Holy shit. Shit.” He bolted straight again, one hand going to his stomach. “Cheyenne and Sylvie were down there like ten or fifteen minutes before we left. God.”
“We’ll want to speak with them, and with Mr. Patelli.”
“Sure. Do you want me to tag them up?”
“We’ll contact them. If you speak to them in the meantime, and if you, or they, have anything to add, you can contact me at Central. Peabody, leave a card.”
“Mr. Ongar, is there anything more we can do for you?” Peabody set the card on the coffee table.
“No, but thanks. Chey’s only going in to work for a couple hours. She’ll be back soon. You can let yourselves out, okay, because I’m just going to lie down here for a minute.”
“Where’s your ’link?” Eve asked him.
“My ’link? I don’t honestly know.”
“There was one in the kitchen. Good thinking,” Peabody said to Eve. “I’ll get it.”
“If you need medical assistance before your fiancée gets back, call for it,” Eve told him.
“Okay, but I’m actually better. Just hollowed out.”
Peabody came back with the ’link, set it within easy reach, then pulled the throw more securely over him.
“Thanks, really. If any of us think of anything, we’ll contact you. We really like that bar.”