History in the Making: My Journey into the Mind of Murderers

621 WordsFeb 19, 20182 Pages
The article was relatively short. I can still see the words, written in the neat block type in The New York Times. I can hardly imagine that we will soon be there. We will be at the place where this happened. I wonder what we will find when we get there? Will the townspeople be willing to talk, or will they be quiet and private? Do they know how far the sound of those four gunshots has reverberated? I guess we will soon find out. Harper is driving now, I feel the need for sleep, but it’s just not coming. My mind is whirling with questions. I am trying to find an approach that is going to work; one that will make people talk, but it is hard. Harper yawns and pulls over. “Your turn, I need a nap.” “We’re only halfway there,” I complain, but get out of the car and go to the driver’s side. As I slide behind the wheel, I turn to Harper, “Do you think anyone is going to know much?” She shakes her head, “No, from what the paper said and what you’ve told me, I don’t see how they could know a lot.” “Someone does; we just have to figure out who that is.” Harper laughs and closes her eyes. I know that she will be a great companion in this search. A few hours later, I wake her up as I turn into a parking space outside of a small hotel. It is close enough to Holcomb—the city where the murders happened. I turn off the car, leaving Harper stretching and yawning inside. She pats at her hair, but doesn’t try very hard to make herself presentable. Inside, I find a gentleman
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