It was as if the earth had swallowed her whole.
A month passed. Nothing. Then two. Still no word. And then finally, during the third month, word came-and the rock that had grown in Marcia's chest, the one that wouldn't let her breathe and kept her up nights, stopped growing.
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
THREE MONTHS LATER
"DO YOU PROMISE to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
Wendy Tynes said that she did, took the stand, looked out. She felt as though she were onstage, something she was somewhat used to, what with being a television news reporter and all, but this time it made her squirm. She looked out and saw the parents of Dan Mercer's victims. Four sets of them. They were there every day. At first they'd brought photographs of their children, the innocent ones of course, holding them up, but the judge had made them stop. Now they sat silently, watching, and somehow that was even more intimidating.
The seat was uncomfortable. Wendy adjusted her position, crossed then uncrossed her legs, and waited.
Flair Hickory, celebrity counsel for the defense, stood, and not for the first time, Wendy wondered how Dan Mercer had the money to afford him. Flair wore his customary gray suit with thick pink stripes, pink shirt, pink tie. He crossed the room in a way that might be modestly described as "theatrical," but it was more like something Liberace might have done if Liberace had the courage to be really flamboyant.
"Ms. Tynes," he began with a welcoming smile. This was part of Flair's style. He was gay, yes, but he played it up in court like Harvey Fierstein in leather chaps doing Liza jazz hands. "My name is Flair Hickory. Good morning to you."