Plainly Murder: A Penguin Special from Obsidian by Isabella Alan Page A

wasn’t alone here. She had the ladies from the quilting circle and her whole community around her. One of the aspects I admired most about the Amish was how they cared for their own. At least that is what most of them did. I had a feeling someone didn’t care much for Eric Schmidt.
    In my pocket, my cell phone rang. It was fully charged from being attached to the car so much the day before. “It’s probably Mom about the wedding and an ice sculpture update, though it’s a little early.”
    My aunt only smiled.
    I took the phone into the living room. The readout was a 330 number. That wasn’t from Texas, but from Holmes County. “Hello,” I said.
    “This is Art,” the voice said over the line.
    I blinked. “Art? Security guard Art?”
    I could almost hear him grind his teeth. “Yes.”
    “How’d you get this number?” I asked.
    “You gave it to me when you hit the buggy sign, remember?”
    I winced. “Oh, right. Am I going to have to pay for that after all?”
    “No, that’s not why I’m calling. The judge wants to see you.”
    “Why?” I asked.
    “I don’t know why. He only asked me to call you. He wants to see you at the courthouse this afternoon.”
    “Why can’t he speak to me on the phone?”
    He grunted. “Are you coming or not? He wants to know.”
    “I am, but I’m not coming alone.”
    He snorted. “You make it sound like the judge is up to something. Let me tell you, Judge Mueller is the finest, most upstanding man I know, and you should be happy he’s willing to give you a few minutes of his time.”
    Was Art in charge of the reelection campaign?
    “I’ll be there,” I said and hung up.
    I weighed my options. Aunt Eleanor needed to stay home today. Her going was out of the question. Rachel was pregnant. Martha thought I was on a wild goose chase. That left me with Anna.
    “Angie, was that your mother?” My aunt stood in the doorway to the living room. “You sounded upset.”
    I shook my head. “It wasn’t Mom. It was an employee of Cooper Mueller’s. The judge wants to meet with me.”
    My aunt frowned. “Why?”
    “The guy didn’t know, but it must be about Eric. It couldn’t be for any other reason.”
    She wiped her hands on a linen dish towel. “I don’t think you should go. This has gone way beyond Evelyn’s wishes. If Eric really was murdered, you could be hurt. If someone has kept this secret for so long, that person will be determined to keep it forever.”
    I squeezed her hand. “I have to follow this through. Maybe the judge can tell me something.”
    I didn’t tell my aunt, but the truth was I wanted to know what happened to Eric for myself because I was invested. Also, Eric’s story was the first thing to distract me from my aunt’s illness and my big Texas wedding, both of which have occupied my every waking thought for months—and not in a good way.
    She frowned. “Then I’m going with you.”
    “No, you need to stay home today. Martha will kill me if you fall ill. I’ll take Anna with me,” I said.
    She dropped her head. “You are right. I am feeling weaker than I did yesterday morning. Taking Anna is a
gut
idea.” She grinned. “She isn’t afraid of anyone, especially some
Englisch
judge.”
    •   •   •
    Early that afternoon, I drove to Anna’s farm. It surprised me that I still knew exactly where it was, after all these years. On the property, there was a large farmhouse, and a smaller house behind it. Several outbuildings and barns dotted the grounds. The Grabers ran a large farm. When I was a child, the farm was the largest in my aunt’s Amish district.
    Anna lived in the smaller house. Before I could even climb out of the Expedition, she was at doorway, wearing her cloak and bonnet. She hurried down the front steps and opened the passenger’s side door.
    My brow shot up. “How did you know that I was coming?”
    “I saw you down the road. Your monster truck is hard to miss. I assumed you wanted to do some more