Bad Hair Day Page #2

FBI website. I see that.

And there is no bureau in Dayton County.

There is, you're just

looking in the wrong place.

Let me see your badge again.

Okay.

Okay, I'm not with the FBI.

Cool, cool.

So, would you like to

tell me who you really are,

you know, before I call

the real authorities?

'Cause, see...

impersonating a federal officer?

That is a felony.

Okay, here's the deal.

I'm a private investigator.

And I'm working for a client who

would like to remain anonymous.

They're looking for this necklace.

And they're willing to

pay a considerable reward.

Is that your car?

Yeah.

Pretty sweet, eh?

Sweet. Sure.

Come in.

What, now you are letting me in?

You're like 5'1". What

could you possible do?

Hey, I'm five...

Okay, you know what,

let's not squabble over

little details, okay?

Little, indeed.

You're one to talk.

That extra inch you've got

on me is really intimidating.

No one cuts a hedge

like you, Mr. Nedermeyer.

You know, you should

upgrade your alarm system.

Yeah, you can neutralize

that particular console

with a pipe cleaner and a cell phone.

Let's hope we're not robbed by any third

graders coming from arts and crafts.

Lovely home.

Rugged.

Good use of brown.

My Dad picked it.

You want something to drink?

Yeah, water.

Tap.

No ice.

So...

this necklace it's valuable?

No. No.

It's just costume jewelry.

But it has sentimental value.

Ah, okay. Yeah.

When was the last time you saw it?

What makes you think I've seen it?

I've been at this game a long time.

What game?

The crime game.

So this is about a crime?

I didn't say that.

You implied it.

I don't think I did.

Look, no offense, but if you

really are a private investigator,

you're a pretty terrible one.

How long have I been in your house?

I don't know.

Thirty seconds? Thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds and here's

what I've learned about you.

Okay, you're a high school senior.

You're allergic to nickel.

You're young for your class.

You're dating a jock-politician

who's popular but soulless.

You live alone with Dad, no siblings,

because Mom left, when you were very young.

How'd I do?

How did you...?

Your class ring is from this year.

It's pewter, not gold, so, no nickel.

And on the mantel is

your middle school diploma

from 3 years ago, so you skipped a year.

And then there on the fridge

is this cute little picture of you and

Mr. Wonderful, eleven cause ribbons.

Enough said.

Now, onto the color brown.

Color clearly chosen by a man who had

absolutely no input from his wife.

And since I can't see a single

picture of a mom anywhere,

I'm guessing she left a long time ago,

and you guys are not happy about it.

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