She gave me a wry grin. “I do.”I got the woman’s information, made ready to go. But before I might leave, Mrs. Bower caught my arm. “You’ll find who did this?”
I sighed. “Mr. Pike has asked the same.”
She gave a small smile. “That crotchety old scoundrel. Perhaps he has some heart in him after all.”
That made me laugh.
“I fear to ask,” she said, “but after so long, would there be any chance to learn who killed my daughter? The police know nothing.”
Sixteen years was a long time. “I don’t know,” I finally said. “But I’ll look into it.”
Mrs. Bower gave me a fearful glance. “How much —”
I waved her off, chuckling. “Don’t worry about the cost; Mr. Pike has offered enough payment for ten cases.”
Her head drooped, a tear falling to her lap. “Thank you.”
I grasped the woman’s hand, feeli
