Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

Chapter 2

Rosa Hernandez looked up from the front desk of the Unisex Glamour Salon as Neal Caffrey paused at the door. She immediately observed his professional coiffure and debonair business attire. Here was a man strikingly handsome, with an allure of wealth. Worthy of membership in her elite clientele, Neal was immediately attractive to her.

The con man, aware of her intense scrutiny, sauntered into the establishment, casting a glance over the entry area. Brightly colored chairs were arranged around a massive ornate marble-topped coffee table. Vivid, eye-catching prints, highlighting chic hairstyles, adorned the walls. An elaborate wood cabinet, offering complimentary gourmet coffee, occupied the left side of the room. Gracing the lobby's far right wall was an antique front desk, carved from walnut.

Neal, impressed by the quality of the interior design, noted this was no plebian barbershop like those frequented by his associate. The Unisex Glamour Salon appeared to cater to New York's high society.

"Welcome," greeted the attractive, thirty-something Hispanic woman, "please come in. Have you been here before?"

"No," replied Neal. "A friend of mine recommended I stop by on my lunch hour."

Picking up one of the glossy pamphlets Rosa had been arranging on the counter, he gave her a flirtatious gaze. Rosa's countenance brightened.

"My husband and I are the owners," she bragged. "Maybe you've seen our publicity in the trade magazines? We've been recognized for our excellent service, atmosphere and elite clientele."

"Tell me more," encouraged Neal with a captivating smile.

"Well, we originally opened shop years ago on Rivington Street, on the lower East Side," Rosa explained. "We still operate that starter salon which caters to our Hispanic patrons."

"We quickly outgrew that old neighborhood," chuckled a newcomer to the conversation. Rosa's husband, Pedro Hernandez, emerged from the salon room behind his wife. "We've created an entirely new specialized beauty salon and spa, in this location," he winked, "among all the trendy shops and restaurants."

"My name is Pedro," said the short, middle-aged, burly man, as he introduced himself to Neal with a firm handshake, "and you've met my pretty wife, Rosa."

"Nick Halden." Neal gestured to the area behind Pedro. "You have an enticing salon. May I have a tour?"

Rosa brushed past her husband. "I'll show Nick around," she enthusiastically offered.

As Neal toured the gleaming facility and charmed his way into the rear of the building, he noted several back rooms displaying reinforced locks on interior doors. When he commented about excess security to the enamored owner, she giggled and stuttered an explanation about safeguarding washing machines and high-end service products.

"Rosa," Neal began, his voice suddenly dropping in volume. "I'm here to discuss a confidential matter." Pressing closer to the infatuated woman, he whispered, "Let me tell you what I heard on the street…"

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Peter was in his office when Neal Caffrey returned from his clandestine trip to the salon. Scarcely acknowledging Neal's presence, he peered intently at his computer screen. "Finally back from your foray," muttered Peter, as he waved Neal to a seat. "It took long enough."

He turned his attention back to the monitor.

Neal shrugged.

Leaning back in his chair and smiling cheerfully, he replied, "Do you know you have a bad habit of staring at your computer when someone is attempting to have a conversation with you?"

"What'd you find out?" Peter asked, ignoring the affront, a note of irritation creeping into his voice.

"The Unisex Salon is a prestigious salon with a reputation for providing excellent service and creative styling. They are on the forefront of fashion trends and products," spouted Neal. "At least so says Rosa Hernandez. She and her husband, along with some beefy cousin named Emilio, run the whole operation. They seem to have quite the loyal clientele." Neal grinned, "For some reason, Rosa took a shine to me and couldn't stop talking about the history of her business. I can add, from personal experience, that Rosa Hernandez, herself, is a talented coiffeuse."

Peter turned sharply from his computer screen. He gave Neal the once-over, an incredulous look developing on his face.

"She gave you a haircut and style? Neal… you can't bill the government for this."

"Don't worry. Everything she provided was complimentary. Wash, cut... hair products. Free trial basis to encourage new salon patrons." Neal observed Peter with amusement. Running his fingers through his hair, he added, "by the way, she convinced me to go blond."

The agent's gaze locked on his.

"Peter, I'm joking…"

"This must be the right salon," he stated, turning serious. "Great deal of cash, flashy establishment, unusual security, odd assortment of customers trailing out of the back room — I told Rosa I was in need of her "documentation" services. Friends in high places had recommended her family business."

"Did she say anything incriminating?" asked Peter.

"No, she was intentionally vague. Promised her family would help me out after she receives my friends' references."

"Perfect," Peter exclaimed with excitement. "While you were off getting a facial, I tracked down an old unsavory acquaintance who owes me a favor. He confirmed the identity of the black market ring. It's your Unisex Salon, all right. He even used their services. Needed a new birth certificate."

"Is he willing to be our reference?" asked Neal.

"That's probably about all I can convince him to do. It should be enough. You and I'll make a return visit to the beauty parlor. A couple of high-end criminals needing illicit paperwork."

"Surveillance van?"

"Nope, not yet," Peter responded. "We'll be on our own. Order the documents first and follow up with a sting."