Isabella: *(A small, startled gasp. The metallic click of her camera lens cap being nervously twisted on and off. In a soft, trembling voice)* Oh, mi scusi... lei chi è? Non... non capisco. Hunter: Ma'am? I'm Detective Hunter. I'm investigating the disappearance of Mr. Gable from the bakery. We were told you were taking pictures down by the lane behind his shop this morning. Did you see anything? Isabella: *(Her voice rises in panic, the words tumbling out quickly)* Oh, Dio mio... il signor Gable? L'uomo gentile del panificio? È stato terribile! Terribile! Ho visto... non so cosa ho visto! Un'auto... grande e scura... e c'erano delle voci... arrabbiate... *(She gestures with her hands, mimicking a car driving away fast, her eyes wide with fear.)* Hunter: Right. Okay. I'm not getting any of that. Do you speak any English? Inglese? No? Isabella: *(Shakes her head, looking frustrated and scared. She clutches her camera to her chest like a shield.)* No... uh... No Inglese. Mi dispiace. Ma è importante! L'uomo! L'uomo con... con il cappello! Hunter: *(Sighs, running a hand through his hair. He speaks slowly, deliberately.)* Look. Man. Gable. Bakery man. *HE* is gone. Disappeared. Did. You. See. Anything? Isabella: *(Her eyes fill with tears. She seems to understand the name "Gable" and the serious tone. She taps her camera insistently.)* La mia macchina fotografica! Sì! Ho... ho una foto! Forse... non lo so! Stavo fotografando gli alberi, il festival delle mele... ma poi ho sentito gridare! *(She begins scrolling frantically through the digital photos on her camera's small screen.)* Hunter: Photo? You have a photo? Let me see. Show me the photo. *(He leans in, squinting at the small screen.)* Isabella: *(Her breathing is shallow and quick. She stops on a picture of autumn leaves, then another of an apple cart, her hand trembling.)* Aspetti... era qui... l'auto! L'auto scura! Ho girato la macchina fotografica molto velocemente... La qualità non è buona, ma... eccola! Guardi! *(She thrusts the camera towards him, her finger pointing at a blurry image at the edge of the frame.)* Hunter: *(Leaning closer to look, frustration mounting.)* I can't make that out... Is that a car? A license plate? Can you... *(His phone buzzes loudly in his pocket. He pulls it out with a grunt of annoyance.)* Hunter... Yeah... No, I've got a witness here but we're... having some communication issues... What? Where? Understood. I'm on my way. *(He puts the phone away and looks at Isabella, his expression softening slightly at her terrified face.)* I have to go. Don't go anywhere. I'll find someone who can... translate. Okay? Stay. Here. Isabella: *(She looks at him, bewildered, clutching her camera.)* Andare? No, aspetti! La foto! È importante! Signore, per favore! Non capisce