Chapter 1 - Dirty Harriet Rides Again

As weddings go, it was a little … unorthodox. And that was before the body turned up. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

So to back up, let me begin by stating immediately and emphatically that it wasn’t my wedding. So don’t panic. That’s not gonna happen (again). At 39, I’ve been happily widowed for four years, since shooting my abusive husband in self-defense. That act made my day and earned me my moniker, Dirty Harriet.

My real name is Harriet Horowitz. The wedding in reference was that of my best buds, Chuck and Enrique. Now, seeing as these are two members of the male persuasion, some would say it wasn’t a real wedding. To them I would say, “Get a life!” Love doesn’t get any more real than what these two had going.

Okay, so our beautiful, bountiful burg of Boca Raton and our great State of Florida doesn’t bestow legal recognition on gay unions. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a plus. After all, it was the law that had sanctified my own unholy alliance of a marriage. And it was the law that had done shit for me when my husband beat the shit out of me.

So the law, rules, and regulations don’t mean a whole lot to me. Truth and Justice do. That’s where my Inner Vigilante comes in. But more on that later.