“Care to explain that, Mister Gant?” he asked.

“It’s a long story,” I offered, knowing the comment was stupid the moment it exited my mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied. “Neither are you.”

Keeping with my established pattern of inane answers, I said, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“You’d be surprised,” he grunted. “I’ve heard it all.”

“I doubt you’ve heard this one.”

“Try me.”

At this point I figured I had little to lose, so I sighed and answered with a tired drone in my voice. “I’m trying to stop a killer.”

“Really? I thought that was a job for cops,” he harrumphed then nudged the fake badge. “But, wait, you’re a cop, right?”

“Obviously you know I’m not,” I replied.

“You’re not?”

“Look, Detective…?”

“Fairbanks.”

“Detective Fairbanks. Do you think you can dispense with the sarcasm?”

“Why? Does it annoy you?”

“Honestly, yes.”

“I guess we all have something that gets under our skin,” he offered. “Personally, sarcasm really doesn’t bother me much. What really gets to me is people who pretend to be something they’re not.”

“Let me guess. Especially when they pretend to be a cop.”

He leaned back in his chair, regarding me with a cold stare, then nodded and said, “Yeah. That’ll do it.”

“In my defense,” I explained, “I never actually said I was a police officer.”

“No, you didn’t,” he replied as he leaned forward and flipped the file folder open. Peering through the glasses resting on the end of his nose, he read aloud, “Special investigations consultant with the Saint Louis Major Case Squad is what you said.”

He looked back up at me and waited.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Something like that.”

“Uh-huh. See, the problem is this,” he nudged my wallet again, “You flashed a fake badge in order to gain entry to a crime scene, and that shows intent. So, no matter what you said, you were impersonating a cop. It’s kind of one of those actions speak louder than words things.”