Okay, so the woman wants to thinks she's Goldilocks. Whatever. One of Grace's best informants thinks he's Fred Astaire. He can barely do a waltz. At least this one has the requisite blond hair, and it looks real.

"Grace Hanadarko," she offers in return, around the cigarette now hanging from her lips. Lifting her knee, she pulls a soft pack of Camels from her boot. She'd rather a different brand, but hey; now's not a good time to get picky. Tapping the bottom until two cigarettes show their filtered ends, she moves the pack into Goldy's personal space. "Oklahoma City PD. You look good for your age."