Excuse Me, Miss?

Yesterday as I was walking by the police station parking lot on my way to the library a well dressed young man said, "Excuse me, miss?"
"Yes."
"Do you know the new sandwich place on Jerome Avenue?"
"No, I don't."
"That's understandable, they've only been open 6 months," he said. "I'm mentioning this because my wife's friend a young woman got a job there and they abused her in the basement. I'm telling everyone so they don't go there."
"Well, if you weren't standing in front of the police station, I'd tell you 'go to the police.'"
"She wasn't going to tell the police, she was even planning to go back to work. I told her we must go to the police, for your sake and the next person's and we'll support you," he said.
"I'm glad you did. She's lucky to have you as a friend. You did the right thing. They're good here."
"Yes they are," he said. "My wife's inside with the girl right now, talking to a detective. I feel responsible because I got her the job. I haven't slept in three days."
"When I go without sleep I feel like I have an open skylight on top of my head."
"That's exactly how I feel," he said.
"I'm concerned about you. You need to get your rest."
"As soon as they come back out I will go home and sleep. I want to post this all over facebook," he said.
"Be careful. I want you to be safe and protected too. Why don't you go home and get your rest first and then maybe tomorrow ask the detective what's the best thing to do."
"For liability's sake?," he asked.
"Yes, and for your safety. Ask the professionals, that's the best way to handle it," I said.
"Thank you," he said.
"Good luck!" I said crossing to the library.