Darker Justice

Chapter 1 Deckard Hills Country Club Atlanta, Georgia December 23 "Come on, Mary. You haven't danced with me in years." With a broad grin, Wyatt Prentiss held out his hand. Behind him, the Darktown Strutters Jazz Machine launched into a sinuous version of "Brazil," a trio of trombones keeping the hot, pulsating rhythm at a slow boil. Mary Crow smiled. How could she refuse? The Strutters were Atlanta's most seductive band when they played, everyone not confined to a wheelchair jumped to their feet and moved to the beat. She grabbed Wyatt's hand and together they rode the music like a wave, gliding across the floor, holding each other tight. "Who'd have thought anybody would get married the day before Christmas Eve?" Wyatt turned Mary in a tight, sexy circle that brought the bride and groom into her view. Mary's oldest and dearest friend, Alexandria McCrimmon, now Mrs. Charles Ensley Carter, was dancing with her new husband. Though the Latin music throbbed around them, they danced their own private sway in the middle of the room, laughing and kissing at the same time. Mary closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer of thanks. Just fourteen months earlier Alex had accompanied Mary on a camping trip in the Nantahalah Forest. The trip had turned bad when Alex had been abducted by a psychopathic trapper. Ultimately she'd been airlifted from the Appalachian forests, half-naked and nearly beaten to death. That Alex was functional at all was astounding. That just an hour ago she had married a man who had never once faltered in his love for her, Mary considered a true gift from God. She smiled at Wyatt. He had no idea what an utter miracle this wedding was. "I think it's wonderful," she said, winking at Alex as she caught the bride's gaze. "Christmas will just start a day early this year." "These Texas McCrimmons really know how to celebrate." Wyatt held her closer and danced her past the long table that stretched along one entire side of the country club ballroom. At one end of the table stood a huge wedding cake topped with flowers; at the other end a fountain bubbled with champagne. In between lay all manner of Christmas delicacies, from Georgia sugared pecans to great platters of Texas barbecue, interspersed with conveniently placed bottles of Jack Daniel's whiskey. A number of Stetson hats bobbed among the crowd of Atlantans, but nobody seemed to mind. The Texas McCrimmons and the Carters from Georgia got along well, finding as all Southerners can common ground in good food and strong whiskey. The song ended. Wyatt escorted her off the dance floor, next to the only other woman dressed in a long, elegant green gown identical to Mary's. Joan Marchetti grinned at Mary. "Some bash, huh?" "I'll say. I nearly cried." "Me, too," said Joan. "Particularly when that bagpiper cranked up and led them away from the altar. Jeez! They call that music?" "I think it's some kind of tradition with them," Mary explained. "Means good luck or lots of children or something." Joan rolled her eyes. Mary studied her in the diffused light. Joan, too, had been a victim of that camping trip from hell. She'd been raped and beaten her nose broken so severely that even the simple act of breathing had been nearly impossible. Today the only evidence of her injuries was a tiny red scar curled alongside one nostril. Her Uncle Nick had gotten her the best plastic surgeon in Manhattan. The results were amazing. Her skin had regained its creamy luminosity;Bissell, Sallie is the author of 'Darker Justice', published 2004 under ISBN 9780375432514 and ISBN 0375432515.