At the cafe, Isabella sat at a small table, her vintage camera resting alongside her half-finished cup of espresso. Tangling her fingers through her short chestnut hair, she gently tilted the black digital camera device as if waiting to see what the next lens cap reveal. Some fancy spy-gear had just been shrunk down to size. Gritting his teeth, Hunter had allowed her to finish her drink and snack; then he had slowly worked his way over acting like the befuddlement was all down to his inability to get an interview out of her. These ladies never knew when to quit with their chattering about shopping and designing and modelling. Had to have an article to talk about in those so-called-women's magazines, this one clearly being all about undergraduate Auburns obsessed with complexion and how to get one. Nothing to do with the real world these days. "Scusi, mi scusi," Hunter started, but she didn't so much as look up. So he took a shot. "Signorina,polizia. I need to ask you some questions about what you saw last night." Isabella coughed and sputtered, clutching her chest. "Che diavolo?!" her voice rasped. "Polizia? Ma sei pazzo?" She waved him away like he was a bothersome fly. "Yeah, I'm a cop. You're Isabella, right? The witness? Look, we need your help with this investigation. People are disappearing." Hunter spoke slowly and enunciated each word, hoping she would somehow magically understand English. "I speak English, you big lummox. Per favore, I beg of you, I cannot do this," she said, standing up, her eyes wide with fear. "Io... io... io ho paura." Fear? What was she scared of? If she was the witness he thought she was, then she had seen something that night. Something that had spooked her bad enough to make her run from the cops. "Isabella, I need you to tell me everything you saw. Maybe it will help us find out what happened to those people." Hunter put on his best I-care-about-you-and-want-to-help-you face, even though, right now, he wanted to throttle the girl. Scowling at the floor like she could burn a hole in it with her eyes, she retreated to the furthest corner of the room near the window, not even sparing him a glance let alone answer. Then, inevitably, his phone rang. Hopefully headquarters: intelligence, CPS, team. Forced to murmur quickly, "Pull over to the side of the road and be leery of left turns," refusing to answer back. Right. He was clearly doomed to play go-between for everyone else. "Excuse me. I have to take this," Hunter held out his hand apologetically, knowing full well he had pushed the girl to her limits. "Va bene. Va bene." Isabella nodded, sending him off with a sharp gesture to the door.