Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFNCHDR871NDDQKR086C2HV

**INT. SMALL CAFÉ ON MAIN STREET – AFTERNOON** *Melanie sits alone at a corner table, her worn leather camera case resting beside her. She cradles her camera in both hands, studying a photo on the small screen. Her brow is furrowed, and she hasn't touched her coffee. The café is quiet — just the hum of an old ceiling fan and the clink of a barista's spoon against ceramic.* *Hunter enters, scanning the room with the quick, measured eyes of someone accustomed to reading a space. His gaze lands on Melanie — the only unfamiliar face he doesn't recognize from the town registry. He crosses the room and pulls out the chair across from her.* --- **Hunter:** Excuse me, ma'am. Detective Hunter Calloway. I don't think we've met. **Melanie:** *(looks up, startled, clutching her camera tighter)* …Ja? *(nervously)* Entschuldigung, ich… ich verstehe nicht— **Hunter:** *(slowly, leaning forward slightly)* I'm investigating a matter regarding a local woman, Karen Lindqvist. Disappeared about three nights ago from the orchards just east of town. I understand you were photographing out that way yesterday afternoon. Is that right? **Melanie:** *(eyes widening, her voice trembling)* Karen? *(switches to German, speaking rapidly, clearly shaken)* Karen — ja, ich habe sie gesehen! Sie war bei den Bäumen, am Weg… aber da war jemand anderes mit ihr. Ich habe es nicht gut gesehen, die Schatten waren zu lang, aber — *(she gestures toward her camera, scrolling frantically through photos)* — ich habe Bilder! Ich habe — ich weiß nicht, ob es wichtig ist, aber sie sah… *(she searches for the word, pressing her fingertips to her temple)* …sie sah ängstlich aus. Wie jemand, der nicht bleiben wollte. **Hunter:** *(blinks slowly, tilting his head)* …I'm sorry, I didn't catch any of that. Are you German? **Melanie:** *(pauses, then speaks carefully in broken English)* I… German. Yes. From Germany. *(frustrated, she taps the screen of her camera)* Karen. Orchards. I see. *(she holds up the camera to him)* Photo. **Hunter:** You took photos of her? **Melanie:** *(nods urgently)* Ja — yes, yes. Photos. But — *(she puts the camera down and clasps her hands together, her voice dropping, returning to German because the emotions are too much to filter through a second language)* Es war so still dort. Ich erinnere mich, wie die Vögel aufgehört haben zu singen, plötzlich. Und dann war sie einfach… weg. Als wäre sie nie da gewesen. *(she looks up at Hunter with glassy eyes)* Ich habe Angst gehabt. Ich habe immer noch Angst. **Hunter:** *(leaning in, jaw tightening)* Did you say she's gone? She disappeared? **Melanie:** *(nods)* Verschwunden. *(she pulls out her phone, fumbling, opening a translation app)* *(reading from the screen, slowly)* She… was… taken? I don't know. But someone was there. In the trees. I couldn't see the face. Too dark. **Hunter:** A person? You're saying there was another person with her? **Melanie:** *(desperately)* Ja! Eine Gestalt. Groß. Stehend zwischen den Bäumen. *(she grabs his forearm without thinking, then catches herself and pulls back, embarrassed)* …Sorry. I am sorry. I am — *(she presses her hand to her chest)* — very nervous. This week, I don't sleep. **Hunter:** *(his expression hardening, his detective's instinct firing)* Do you still have those photos? Every one of them? Can you show me exactly where you were standing? **Melanie:** *(nodding, already scrolling back through the gallery, her fingers still shaking)* Orchards. Behind the road. Near the… *(she searches her memory for the English word, then shows him a photo on her screen — a landscape shot with the faintest outline of two figures among the trees)* …fence. The old fence. **Hunter:** *(studies the image closely, squinting)* That's a hell of a zoom. You got good equipment. **Melanie:** *(manages the faintest flicker of pride, then it vanishes)* …Danke. *Hunter pulls out his notebook, scribbling notes, when his phone buzzes against his belt. He glances at the screen. His jaw sets.* **Hunter:** I need to take this. *(he stands, card in hand)* Ma'am — Melanie, right? *(she nods)* — I need you to stay in town. Don't delete anything. I'll have someone pick up those photos in digital format. And — *(he pauses, softening just barely)* — lock your door tonight. Okay? **Melanie:** *(stares up at him, hugging her camera to her chest)* …Versteh ich. *(beat, quietly)* I understand. *Hunter gives her one last long look, then turns and answers the phone as he pushes through the café door.* **Hunter:** *(into phone)* Calloway. What do you have? *Melanie watches him go, then looks back down at the photo on her screen — the two figures among the trees. She whispers in German, barely audible over the ceiling fan:* **Melanie:** *(barely a breath)* …Komm mir bitte nicht näher.