Coming out of the restroom I noticed the dance floor. Guys were dancing with guys. I realized that were in the wrong place especially while wearing ki...ts. It must have been a sight, the two of us in what most people call skirts. I went to the bar and seen my uncle talking to one guy while three others stood around him looking. Before I could get to him it was to late, he popped one guy in the mouth and kicked another. The manager and bar tender came over to see what was going on. I explained to. They both talked to us, both individually and then, later, as a group. The initial interviews were separate, and strangely relaxed. They were also very short.“I’m Dan Roddenberry,” said the guy dressed in a suit who came into the room I’d been taken to. It was actually the kitchen. There was a counter with a coffee machine on it and a microwave. A refrigerator stood on one wall. I guess crime was pretty low-key on the island and they didn’t need a proper interrogation room. The cells were. Sunday morning (after church), the Cerconi women found their way to Captain Jack's Closet only to fall under the charm and gaze of none other than Jeremy Mitchell. Unlike most male clerks who stuttered and stared when Donata entered a shop, Jeremy, who had seen her approaching and experienced his astonishment at her beauty before her arrival, acted cool, calm and polished as they entered, immediately conveying a feeling in the two women that this man is accustomed to assisting beautiful women. The sharp, salty air had at least improved his appitite if nothing else. One thing Tony had learned over years of trial and error was to make acceptable black coffee and excellent scrambled eggs, laced with onions and green peppers. He topped off this repast with three strips of bacon and slowly ingested the fruits of his limited culinary arts. It pretty much began and ended with this. To be sure he could slap together a decent BLT sandwich, washed down with a coke for lunch. But when.