Selections from the Book
“Sheriff, we’re ready at HQ,” came the radio call. Knowlton had just climbed back into the car to return to his office. He and Holmes had agreed that the word “suspect” was not to be used on the air. There were too many people with scanners listening to every word. The searchers, if they found anything, even a clue, were ordered to avoid talking on the radio.
“If you find anything, send a runner,” the sheriff told them. He had learned how to avoid the television stampede.
Now what did they know about this suspect, really? He had been around for a couple of years, but that was nothing. Even most of the new folks in town had lived here longer than that. Many more were like the Andersons, lifelong residents he had known most of his life. “These new people,” he wondered, “who really knows anything about them?”
Arriving at his office, Knowlton walked straight to the interrogation room. Sitting at the long table were Chief Deputy Holmes, two FBI agents and Bill Brooks, his chief investigator. Sitting alone on the other side of the table was a suspect, their only suspect, in the abduction of Robin Anderson.