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

investigating.” Her eye twinkled behind her glasses. “Where are we going?”
    I told her about Art’s call. “Do you mind coming along?”
    She grinned. “Fire up the behemoth.”
    My gaze turned back to the big house. “Is Jo-Jo here?”
    She smiled at the name. “My son Jonah?
Nee
. He and his family are in Wayne County. He found a construction job there that should help them make it through the winter.”
    “Oh.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice. I had hoped to see Jonah on this trip. I supposed it wasn’t meant to be.
    I felt Anna watching me. “He will be sorry to have missed you.”
    “Tell him that I was sorry to have missed him, too.”
    “I will,” she promised.
    We drove to Millersburg in silence. Outside of the courthouse, Anna climbed out of the Expedition and stared at the crooked buggy sign. “I wonder what happened here. How could someone do that?”
    “Accidents happen,” I muttered.
    Oliver barked. He wore a blue and green argyle sweater. It clashed with his red boots, but he couldn’t always be a fashion plate. I let him out of the car.
    Anna adjusted her cloak on her shoulders. “Are you taking the dog inside?”
    “It’s too cold for him to stay out here.”
    In the courthouse, Oliver’s boots squeaked on the tiled floor, which was polished to a high sheen. The little black and white dog admired his reflection in the tile.
    Art sat behind his desk. It was Saturday, and the courthouse was even quieter and darker than when I visited just two days ago.
    Art scowled at me and Anna, but when he saw Oliver, he smiled. The big man melted. “A Frenchie. I had a tan one growing up named Carson. He was the best dog.”
    Oliver waltzed right through the metal detector like he owned the place. I shook my head as Anna and I handed Art our bags to be searched and walked through the metal detector.
    A half-eaten ham sandwich sat in the middle of Art’s desk atop a folded brown bag. Oliver stared at it longingly. Art handed our bags back. “Can I give him a bite? He looks so hungry.”
    Oliver whimpered. Didn’t he remember the double serving of bacon my aunt snuck him for breakfast? I wasn’t the only one going on a diet when we got home. He needed to fit in his tux for the wedding. “Yes, he can have a tiny piece.”
    Art pulled a small piece of ham from his sandwich and held it to Oliver, who swallowed it up without tasting it.
    “Art,” the judge’s voice echoed through the corridor.
    Art stood at attention. “Sir, I’m sorry. Your one o’clock is here.”
    “I can see that.” Cooper folded his arms. “Miss Braddock, please come to my office.”
    I hesitated. “Anna is coming with me.”
    Anna removed her black bonnet. “Hello, Cooper. I see you’ve done well for yourself as an
Englischer
.”
    He straightened his shirt. “Mrs. Graber, it is nice to see you.” He swallowed under Anna’s stern gaze. I hid a smile. She was definitely the right person to bring with me. “Please, both of you follow me to my office.”
    Inside of Cooper’s manly Victorian office, the judge sat behind his clean desk and Anna and I both chose an armchair.
    “Why did you want to talk to me?” I asked without preamble. “You weren’t very forthcoming the last time I was here.”
    He pursed his lips. “I received a call from Glenn Dudek last night. He wanted to know if there was any truth to the story that Eric Schmidt may have been murdered.”
    “Is there?” I asked innocently.
    “Miss Braddock, I don’t know what makes you think you have a right to disturb so many lives with your questions.”
    “Angie is acting at the request of her aunt.” Anna came to my defense.
    Cooper folded his hands on the desktop. “If I’m connected to rumors about Eric’s death, it could ruin my political career, even if I am completely innocent, which I can assure you that I am.”
    “Tell me something that will put an end to it,” I challenged.
    He stared at his folded hands,