West Sac 911

So I was at my neighborhood watch meeting a few months ago (oh my goodness, is that another story), and listening intently, and learning how to think of everyone as a suspect, etc etc, and our West Sac police rep tells us that if we dial 911 on our cell phones, it goes straight to the California Highway Patrol (helloooooo Eric Estrada!), so we should all program in the Yolo County emergency number to our cell phones, as well as the non-emergency number, in case we ever need to dial 911, but have it answered locally. (take a breath -- I realize that was one sentence)
So, at some point, in order to recycle all the papers she'd given us (don't leave your ipod or garage door opener in your car, take pictures of your stuff, and leave the porch light on at night), I put the emergency number in my phone, trying to ensure that I'd never have to use it.
This week, I was driving from one gym to the other, I stop at a red light, see a girl jump out of the back seat of a car and toward a gas station. Then, a guy jumps out from the front seat, grabs her by the neck and tries to steer her back to the car. She keeps walking (shoeless), and gets all the way into the gas station with his hands around her neck. I pull into the gas station, dialing the West Sac 911 (as named in my phone), as the guy is running back to the car, jumping in, and his getaway driver is peeling out.
The girl walks in somewhat of a straight line, but not really, out of the gas station, and starts crossing the street. I'm describing this scene to dispatch and following her and tell the woman on the phone that I'm going to hang up and see if the girl is okay.
"Are you okay, girl?"
Girl: "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine. Can I take you somewhere?"
"Umm."
"Do you need to get to a hospital?"
"No. No. I'm fine. It's just. I wasn't. He was a. . ."
"I can take you home, then."
"I'm staying down on blah blah blah at a motel."

So I drive her and her cigarette-stench-soaked-self over to the motel where she's staying and she tells me he was an ex-boyfriend and she doesn't know how he found her and he forced her into the car. I asked her if she wanted to talk to the police. She said no. (duh) I asked her if she'd be safe if I dropped her off. She said yes. (doesn't seem like she was so safe there before)
I didn't get the guy's license plate and I didn't get the girl's name. I would make a lousy witness. I called the nice lady back at 911 and told her I had dropped the girl off at her motel, and the nice lady told me I should feel good for the rest of the day because I'd done something good for someone. I think I'll stick a post-it note on my dash of questions to ask victims that I randomly pick up on the street.