Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

A/N: A heartfelt thanks to Mary, my beta reader.

Chapter 1

"A beauty salon!"

Neal Caffrey expressed his surprise and amusement.

"We're going to investigate a hairdressing establishment?" Neal considered the idea. "Peter, do we get to sample the service and products? You know, shampoo, haircut, style—the works."

"No," said Peter. His annoyed countenance spoke volumes. "What makes you think I would personally ever use a hair styling salon?"

The agent shook his head. Grabbing his drinking glass from the table, he scanned the menu, and sat back in his seat. Still smiling with disbelief, Peter returned his attention back to his consultant.

The two men were discussing their new case while having lunch at the popular new restaurant, Zorzi, in midtown Manhattan. A two-story glass and tile Venetian eatery, it was decorated with stone walls and mosaics. Recognized for its modern design and large, colorful Italian paintings, it boasted a huge center bar with slick orange chairs.

Peter had heard the Northern Italian cuisine was fantastic and better yet, the eating house offered office discounts. The din of the establishment, with its large crowd of diners and bustle of the wait staff, did not interfere with their animated private conversation.

"Oh, I thought you were going to begin a new trend." Neal smiled his mega-watt grin. "You know the polished, professional, federal agent look versus your usual rumpled Columbo style."

"Nope. You're going to have to put up with my natural panache. It's a classic."

"Right." Neal agreed. "Ah, where do you go for your haircuts, anyway?"

Peter looked pleased. "Joe's Barber Shop near the office. They give a really good deal."

Neal nodded. "I'm not surprised. Let me guess… fifteen dollars for a trim?"

Peter feigned astonishment. "How'd you know? Let me guess. You go there too."

"No, Peter. Brigitte, at John Allan's Spa and Barbershop, takes care of me." Neal neatly unrolled his napkin and placed his eating utensils next to his plate. "It's an upper scale salon that offers billiards, cigars, and drinks from the bar. You really should try it."

The agent exhaled noisily. "I hate places like that. Why would you waste your time with all that when what you need is a quick haircut?" He glanced about the restaurant. "Where is that waiter? Oh, finally. Here's the food."

Peter removed his briefcase from the table. "Anyway, let me tell you about this dubious salon," he began as he eyed his luncheon entree.

"Hold on," interrupted Neal. "Let me guess the identity. They all have unique names." As the food was served he began to spout off comical puns.

"Are we going to visit The Last Tangle, Hair and Now, Curl Up and Dye?"

Peter held up his hand in warning.

"His and Hairs, Julius Scissor, Well-Comb All?"

"Stop," said Peter.

Neal continued, "No. How about Hair Apparent, Locks of Luck, Blood, Sweat and Shears, Combing Attractions? Or my personal favorite —Off The Top of My Head?"

Neal's mentor was becoming irritated. "All right Neal," said Peter, "cut the crap!"

The consultant looked smug. "Cut The Crap. Amusing title but don't you think a bit crude?"

The exasperated federal agent slumped in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table.

"Let me know when you're finished."

"Okay. I'm finished." Neal motioned Peter to continue. "You were informing me about some deviant hairdresser."

As they enjoyed their Italian cuisine, Peter explained about the lucrative business of the fraudulent ID racket. One of the elegant salons, located in Midtown, was an alleged front for fake identities. A tip-off by an informant had highlighted a successful enterprise procuring new birth certificates, licenses, Green Cards, passports, and social security cards.

Undocumented illegal aliens were buying the ID's for jobs, credit cards or purchases of cars or homes. The forgeries were used in consumer fraud and running up debts in different people's names. Organized crime and major criminals used the fabricated paperwork for various aliases. The FBI was utmost concerned about the potential use by terrorists.

"We know that one of the salons in this vicinity is corrupt. The problem is our informant never had the chance to pinpoint the exact one."

"Why not?" asked Neal.

"He was found murdered before his last meeting with one of our agents," Peter replied.

"So how many salons is the office investigating?"

"A large number," said Peter. "But don't worry, you and I will only be checking out one or two."

His partner looked interested.

"You know what they say in the salon business," said Neal, as he pushed his plate away. "Life is full of challenge and struggle, but eventually you find the right hair stylist."

"Yeah," answered Peter. "In this scenario, you could call it a complete makeover."