Matt Gregory’s words echoed in her head. The private’s life he died saving was the man Smith’s former fiancée married. Her family still lives around here somewhere. Jillian gasped. Bowers. That was it! Lynn Bowers was a descendant of Harriet Cooke and Bruce Bowers. It all made sense. That was how the suspect had known that she had gone to the relic shop. That was how the suspect had known Jillian had worn a blue sweater yesterday. Lynn had gotten Boo out of her Jag. Stark clarity sank straight to her toes. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “That must have been when she took the pages I copied.” Jillian knew the bald man was staring at her, thinking she was talking to herself but she didn’t care. She had asked Theo to bring Lynn in on the case. Lynn had seen Theo hand her the button. Did Lynn know she still had it? Jillian stared at the letter. Her mind formed a mental picture of Benton stepping between the Federal colonel and Bowers. While the colonel hit Benton on the head, Bowers must have stuck a knife between his ribs.
