They mourned another senseless act of hatred and cruelty. They were gathered to bury Jackson Redclay, one of their own. His family stood grim-faced an... unmoving, lost in their own thoughts while the words of the white preacher fell uselessly among them. Soon, it was time. Emmett Redclay knelt, and dropped a feathered amulet upon the casket. A scattering of shredded tobacco was followed by a thin, streaming handful of sandy soil, picked up from the pile beside the open grave. Melba Redclay stood. After that move, his photo business expanded into boudoir photography. New clients were surprised that their photographer was autistic and his father was his business manager. But surprised changed to pleased when they saw his final product.Even when they got requests for full R-rated photos Junior clicked away with client pleasing pictures.Peter Sr’s road to Hell began when he attended a two-day seminar for independent photographers. Someone had slipped a USB stick in his pocket. It contained. More

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