“Boy, you needn’t be worryin’ yourself about another man’s business like that. You could get yourself in a mess of trouble askin’ questions ...hen it’s none of your concern.”The young man spoke with an exaggerated drawl and flicked his long curly mustache again with the forefinger and thumb on his left hand.“Mister, we don’t know you and not a one of us here gives a damn about that fancy name you go by. You come here dressed like a dude, looking for Marshal Crow and for your own good, you best. “My boyfriend...” I began. I had thought the conversation through one thousand times.“My boyfriend,” I nervously said a second time, “He asked me to pick up some condoms, but I suddenly realized that I don’t know anything about shopping for condoms.”Sam didn’t say anything as we rounded the end cap and started up another aisle.“Would you help me pick out the best type?” I pressed.Sam chuckled.“Yeah,” he replied, “Does he liked ribbed or plain ones?”“I don’t know,” I replied. “All I know is how. The worst thing he realize, was that she wasn't trying to avoid the truth, she just had no further interest in him.Peter walked back to his cubbyhole to read another file looking for police misconduct. It was one which had been reviewed by both Martin and Trish for legal issues. They had found nothing. Peter review the report on the evidence and the police department's conduct of the investigation. At the time of his review DNA was the hot button. The questions were mind boggling. Was there DNA. . and pigtails. What have we here, a schoolgirl? Anyway, come here and give me a kiss.”“Shan’t!”“‘Shan’t’? A British schoolgirl? And a sassy one, to boot. Come here! Now!”“Shan’t ... Owww!”“Oh yes, you shall. Pigtails are as useful as reins. Now, let’s get you over to the table ... Bend over.”“No. Ow!”“Now that you’ve nicely bent over ... say, that grip on your arm doesn’t hurt, does it?”“Yes, it hurts.”“‘Yes, it hurts’ who?”“Yes, it hurts, sir.”“That’s nice. It’s supposed to hurt. Now that.