[Cut to takeout counter at Mama Joy's. Annamaria, sitting in booth near door, watches Eframo pick up order and turn toward door. Two 20ish men in leather jackets walk in, look at Eframo, laugh. Oh, and name 'em yourself, I got my hands full.]

PATRON #1: What's with the hair, pal? Drugstore run out of green?

[Eframo rolls eyes, walks past them.]

PATRON #2: Hey, punk … my buddy asked you a question.

EFRAMO [turning to face both]: Oh, I'm sorry. You see, I don't speak dumbass. But apparently you do, so maybe you can interpret for me. [Smirks, shakes head, turns, walks out door. Annamaria gets up from table and follows.]

ANNAMARIA [catching up to Eframo on sidewalk]: You were bold back there.

EFRAMO: I find the best way to deal with enemies is a pre-emptive strike. Let them think I have some secret butt-kicking prowess.

ANNAMARIA: Must have come in handy back in New York.

EFRAMO: How'd you know I'm from -

ANNAMARIA: New faces aren't hard to miss here. [Extends hand.] Annamaria.

EFRAMO [shaking Annamaria's hand]: Eframo. So … why you talking to me?

ANNAMARIA [looking blankly at him]: What do you mean?

EFRAMO: Girls like you don't usually talk to guys like me unless they have a hidden agenda.

ANNAMARIA [smirking]: Mine's world domination. Anyway, we should have … lunch sometime.

EFRAMO [chuckling]: Might as well. Here?

ANNAMARIA: Suits me. Oh, and … I like your hair. [Smiles, turns, walks away.]

EFRAMO [to himself, watching her walk away]: Not bad … [smirking] for a chick.

[Cut to park on edge of town, in afternoon. Cars enter, leave, and sit in parking lot. Solitary drivers look each other over. From cab of pickup truck, two men watch. Fade Mix of "Plenty" from "Sarah McLachlan Remixed" CD plays in background.

SARAH'S VOICE [over synthesizer ostinato and drumbeats]: iI would not let myself believe that you might stay …/i

BRIGHT EYES: Dude, you know this place squicks me out. Half these guys are old enough to be my -

COLINO: So? We're not here for that, man.

BRIGHT EYES: And how do you know he's even going to be here?

COLINO: Where else would he go in this town? [Chuckles darkly, turns to see car with faded gray paint enter lot … a mid-'90s vintage Chevy Nova, which is really a Toyota but won't get trashed on union construction sites. ]

SARAH'S VOICE: iI thought I'd be with you until my dying daaaa-aay …/i

COLINO [seeing Nova back into parking space on opposite side of lot]: That's him.

[Zoom in on car as driver, a slim 20ish man with spiky brownish-blond hair, nervously scans lot. He sees Colino walking toward him, steps out of car, closes door, and leans against driver's side, smiling.

BRIGHT EYES [approaching from other side of car]: Well, if it isn't Walnuts, our friend from the city.

WENDELL [wide-eyed, shaking, turning to look at Bright Eyes, then back at Colino]: How does he know my … wait, how do you-

BRIGHT EYES [grinning]: Oh, you might think I'm a moron, but you'd be sooo wrong.

COLINO: Hey, stranger. Remember me?

WENDELL: I-I'm not into three-

COLINO: We're not here for that. We have a little … business.

WENDELL: Dude, you told me you weren't a narc!

COLINO [laughing]: Me? Hell, the rookie who works this park's blown me a dozen times. You, however …

BRIGHT EYES: Might want to give us some information.

COLINO: To avoid the wrong kind of … handcuff party.

BRIGHT EYES: We know you work for Brunelli. What's he doing here?

WENDELL: H-here?

BRIGHT EYES: In Everwood, dorkface.

COLINO [in pseudo-reassuring tone, patting Wendell's shoulder]: We just want to understand what's on his mind. [Flashes eyebrow up and down, this time without smiling.] What makes him … tick … tick … tick …

WENDELL: H-h-he thought his family was in danger. His wife was killed, and he … thought his kids might be next.

COLINO: Well, we certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to his …

WENDELL: Son, about our age … and daughter, younger.

COLINO: Because that kind of fear …

BRIGHT EYES [smiling]: Might make him move again?

WENDELL: Dude, please! I'm just the bookkeeping intern! And w-w-webmaster. And-

COLINO: Oh, we wouldn't want to hurt you … would we, Bright Eyes? [Grins.]

[Cut to bedroom with really loud floral wallpaper. Annamaria and friend with shorter, much darker hair sit on floor, leaning backs against side of bed. "It's Bad, You Know" by R.L. Burnside plays in background.]

ANNAMARIA: So what happened to that guy you were seeing?

LAYNIE [chuckling]: Bobby? He's dating some stripper named Madison. [Rolls eyes.] Seems he's got a thing for blondes who bite their lip.

ANNAMARIA: Another habit I know not to take up. Just as well. Guys always think with their dicks.

LAYNIE: At least the ones we know. …

R.L.'S VOICE: iShe asked me why. … I just went on and told her./i [Actually, it's more like "Shih ast mih waah … ah jes wennon tollah" … but you knew that, right?]

LAYNIE: So what's with you and Brooding Boy from Brooklyn?

ANNAMARIA: Manhattan, and I'm … [smirks] just doing research.

LAYNIE [smiles slyly]: Business or personal?

ANNAMARIA: With family, there's a difference?

LAYNIE: Just don't get burned, OK? Some people in this town have long memories.

ANNAMARIA: Like I don't know that?

LAYNIE: Yeah, but they'll be around long after the Brunellis are gone.

ANNAMARIA: And you think I want to be?