Chapter 15
I SAT PARKED ALONG the curb across the street from the Good Word Shelter as intense rain hammered the car roof and windshield. Kevin had mentioned if I was to find Harold, it would most likely be here. I had no idea what to expect nor could I predict his response to someone like me, a stranger with lots of questions. My experience with these types of interviews have yielded mixed results. At the very least I could get a sense of how the murder of Father Ortiz has affected this community. A murder that happened less than a mile away.
I continued to wait in the car, hoping for a break in between the cells of downpour, but in reality, this was just nervous procrastination. After examining the documents Kevin shared with me, I found myself questioning everything.
I watched as var
