She looked at him with new eyes. Familiar people were no longer familiar. The anger and suspicion in Sheriff Galton’s face had shaken her out of taking for granted people she had known since childhood.

“Terrible thing,” Perkins muttered. He was obviously upset. His big hands were shoved into the pockets of his working khakis.

He must have been gardening when Mrs. Cory phoned him, Catherine thought dully. She watched Carl and Molly Perkins working in their yard every weekend, provided she herself had remembered to have her hedge trimmed.

“Yes,” Catherine replied belatedly.

“I’m sorry for you, that you had to find her.”

There was real regret in his voice, and Catherine warmed to him. “If I hadn’t happened to shoot cans this morning-” she began, and stopped.

Perkins wrinkled his forehead inquiringly.

His eyebrows are too sparse to count, Catherine noticed. He’s really getting old.

She spoke hastily to cover her stare. “She wouldn’t have been found for a long time, if no one had worked in those fields until-” “Until the smell was gone,” she meant to say, but couldn’t.

“You’re right,” he said. He was angry: his voice sounded hoarse and strained. “Wonder if Galton can handle this? All he’s used to are Saturday night cuttings.”

They had reached the sheriff ’s car, where Galton was directing two deputies to stay behind and continue to search.

“Now, you come over and see us,” Perkins said earnestly. “You’ve been a stranger since your folks have been gone.”

Yes, she thought. I’ve been a stranger.

“Is all your father’s business tended to?” he asked into the blank wall of her silence.

“Yes,” Catherine replied, shaking herself. She would have to say more, she realized after a second. “Jerry Selforth bought almost all Dad’s equipment. We were lucky to get another doctor in town so soon. Dr. Anderson’s so old that I know having Jerry take the practice is a relief to him.”