Fifteen
“THAT BASTARD WAS HERE, Helen! He was here in my church!”
Helen pats my shoulder. Around us, cops and crime scene techs are swarming the interior and crime scene tape encircles the entire altar area.
“Be careful!” Dan barks. “This is holy ground you’re standing on!”
Fortunately, Helen allowed me to remove the Blessed Sacrament from the tabernacle. It’s safe in the sacristy. But everything else is being examined with a fine tooth comb for evidence.
“Is it the same gun?” I ask Helen.
“Probably, Tom,” she says. “The round we recovered from the door was a .308, and it looks like it shoots .308 rounds. I’ve shot one just like it. It’s light, has a minimum recoil. Great choice.”
“I’m so glad you approve of our shooter’s choice of weapon,” I say, sarcastically.
“And you didn’t see
