He stared at the beautiful shapely woman, his face paling at the girl’s accusation. “Miss Reeves, Mr. Jenkins, is my cousin. He’s incapable of committin’ such atrocities as the ones in this crime. Now I understand you want’n to help, but involvin’ an innocent man would be wrong. Why don’t you let us professionals do our job? We’ve got everythin’ under control.” He tipped his hat and slid away into his inner offices.
Bewildered by the sheriff’s strange reaction, Caroline, returned to her car, asking herself, ‘are the police hiding something? Don’t they want help from the public?’ She drove aimlessly through the town. A town she was born and raised in. A town her friends and relatives live in. A town she hoped to marry in, raise a family in, and retire in. Now, she wondered. Realizing she must report her suspicions to someone, she sought the nearest telephone. At the grocery store, she parked near the entrance and left the motor idling in case Terry Jenkins lurked nearby.