A cop? She thought he was a cop? He probably did look like one with his plain clothing in this crazy place. He shook his head, looking at the way she gently pushed her hair from her face. What she said was probably true, but he couldn't know what to do otherwise. Lucky in cases, unlucky in love his friends teased. He didn't understand why they called him Blackjack, but it fit somehow. 

"Er...Hunt witches? What?!" He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. 

He had his own thoughts about the occult, but most often he left it out of his professional work. He had the notion that they might, [i]might[/i] exist on his strangest days, but they were kept only a part of his thoughts, nothing more. Did this coffeehouse-No he wouldn't believe it. Not without proof. And clothing alone was not enough to prove his suspicions. She suddenly spoke to the entering stranger. In recognition? He had no reason to suspect him yet, but at least he now had a name. He checked his watch again. 7 minutes till...

Curiosity nagged at him. Did she know everyone here? Or just him? Regardless of his involvement or not with his clients husband or not, he was curious. He couldn't resist these urges, not now, not ever. It was his nature to question and be curious, regardless of the consequences.

"What do you know about him? Is it just an acquaintance thing or..." He questioned cautiously. He had to appear casual, especially if she thought he was a cop.