Plainly Murder: A Penguin Special from Obsidian (4 page)

“Why would Cooper exclude Ira then?” Anna asked.

“I thought it was because Ira had a not-so-secret crush on Lily, and Cooper didn’t like it.”

Considering Lily was married to Ira now, and not Cooper, Cooper had a good reason to think that. Would Cooper push his business partner off the Wittmer’s barn roof because of Lily? Had it been Ira who fell off the roof, I would say yes. But it wasn’t Ira; it was Eric, who was outside of the love triangle.

“How did Lily feel about Ira at that time?” I asked, squinting a little while waiting for Violet’s reaction to my question. “I mean, she did end up marrying him.”

“My sister only had eyes for Cooper then. She only started to notice Ira and his attention after she and Cooper were through.”

“Which wasn’t long after Eric died, correct?”

She frowned. “What are you implying?”

“Lily broke up with Cooper because of Eric’s death,” I said simply.

Violet stood, collecting our coffee mugs. “Angie, do you think Cooper pushed Eric off of the roof?”

I didn’t know what to think.

“Do you know where we can find Cooper?” Anna asked. “Lily said that he joined the
Englisch
.”

Violet nodded. “He did.” She frowned at Anna. “I thought you knew. Cooper Mueller is a Holmes County judge.”

That was a surprise. Not only did Cooper leave the Amish community, but he became an elected official, which goes against everything the Amish were taught. “I guess I need an audience with the judge,” I said.

After our visit with Violet, I drove Martha back to my aunt’s farm to collect her buggy. She had promised one of her daughters that she would look after her children while the daughter went grocery shopping that afternoon. When I stepped inside my aunt’s home, I found her asleep on the sofa. Her cheeks were gaunt but rosy. I was relieved to see some of her good coloring had returned. I covered her with a quilt. I didn’t have the heart to wake her up and decided that it was a good time to track down Judge Mueller. I believed since I was English, I would have more luck talking to Cooper alone than with an Amish woman at my side.

Oliver had had enough wintery adventure for the day and opted to stay behind with my aunt.

The best place to start my search for the judge was the county courthouse in Millersburg, the Holmes county seat. Amish drove through the town often, but it was very much an English town with English shops and businesses. The courthouse was an imposing sandstone building with dozens of arched windows and a four-sided clock tower perched on the roof. The statue of a Civil War solider stood guard on a pedestal in green, which was buried under a thick blanket of snow.

I parked the monster SUV on the curb beside a yellow Amish-buggy-crossing sign. There were signs just like it all over the county.

I stepped out of the car and walked around it. As I stepped on the sidewalk, I slipped on a patch of black ice. My feet went out from under me, and I landed hard on my backside with a thunk. My teeth rattled inside my head. “Ouch,” I whimpered.

I sat there for a few seconds shaking my head to compose myself. The street was abandoned, so I didn’t have to suffer the embarrassment of anyone seeing me fall, or at least that’s what I thought.

“Miss, are you all right?” Footsteps ran in my direction.

Good-bye dignity. It was nice knowing you.
I struggled to my feet.

A strong hand slipped under my elbow and helped me the rest of the way up. I felt a blush creep across my face when I found a man in a sheriff’s department calf-length winter coat and baseball cap examining me. The man’s eyes were piercing blue and complimented his salt and pepper hair nicely. I dropped my gaze from his hypnotic eyes to his chest. The badge of his coat read, “Sheriff Mitchell.” Not only was he a member of the sheriff’s department, he was the sheriff himself. Should I tell him about Evelyn’s fifteen-year-old suspicions? I felt myself blush as I pulled my elbow from his grasp. “I’m fine. I should be more careful.”

“I was coming down the steps when I saw you fall. I’m glad you’re not seriously hurt. Folks have been known to crack their heads open on patches of black ice like that.”

What a happy thought.

He pointed at my tennis shoes. “You should wear sturdier footwear. This is no weather for sneakers.”

I sighed. “Thank you for your help.”

He picked up my purse, which I’d dropped when I’d fallen. “You’re welcome. You be careful.”

I nodded and stepped onto the sidewalk. He headed to a squad car parked at the corner. As I made my way to the courthouse entrance, I stopped and glanced back at him. He did the same thing. Our eyes locked, and my blush reappeared. I ducked my head and hurried around the side of the courthouse.

A larger-than-life lady of justice statue loomed above the building’s visitors’ entrance. She gripped her scales and stared down at passersbys austerely, half buried in a mound of snow. I stepped through the heavy glass doors and found a security guard sitting behind a desk that held five different monitors. Beside the desk, a metal detector waited.

He smiled brightly as he got up from his seat. Yes, I was definitely no longer in Dallas. Security guards there did not smile, they growled.

“I will need to search your bag while you go through the metal detector. Just a precaution, you understand.”

I handed him my purse and removed my coat before stepping through the metal detector.

He peered into my purse, didn’t find anything of interest, and handed it back to me. “Are you here to view the courtroom?”

“View the courtroom?” I asked.

His smile widened. “You have the lost look of a tourist. Many of them tour the courthouse while winding their way through Amish Country.”

“That’s allowed?”

He nodded and smiled some more. “Oh, yes. As long as court is not in session, you are allowed to take a peek.”

As curious as I was about the county courthouse, I had more pressing business to take care of. “Actually, I’m here because I’d like to speak to Judge Mueller.”

The smile vanished as if the guard flipped a switch. “Name?”

“Angela Braddock.”

He reached over the partition surrounding the security desk for a clipboard. After scowling at it for a moment, he said, “I’m sorry. You’re not on his list of appointments for today.”

“I don’t have an appointment, but I will only take five minutes of his time. I promise.”

His frown deepened into a scowl. “You can’t see the judge without an appointment. I’m going—”

A man close to my age in a fine wool coat better suited for the streets of Manhattan than Millersburg stepped through the glass doors. He gripped a leather satchel in his gloved hand, which he handed to the security guard before passing through the metal detector. He gave me a slight nod.

The guard handed the well-dressed man his bag. “Here is your briefcase, Your Honor.” The guard shot a panicked glance at me.

Too late, buddy, I know he’s the judge now.

Cooper laughed. “Art, you have to stop calling me that. It’s just Cooper.”

I took a small step toward the judge. “Judge Mueller, I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time.”

His forehead creased. “Is this about a pending case?”

“No,” I said.

He cocked his head, reminding me of Oliver. “A non-pending case?”

“It’s not about any case, judge.”

He held his satchel at his waist. “The only people who want a few minutes of my time are reporters asking about cases. I know all the reporters in the county. You’re not one of them. Are you from Canton?”

Art placed a hand on my arm. “Sir, I will ask her to leave.”

I jerked my arm away. “I just have a couple of questions, and I’m not a reporter.”

“Today is not a good day for me,” Cooper said. “You can make an appointment with my secretary. Art will give you her number.”

“I don’t know that I can come back. Really it will only take a minute.”

He scowled at my persistence. It was an expression that was I used to. Ryan always said that I should have been a lawyer instead of a graphic designer because of my determination . . . actually he called it “bullheadness”. “It’s about Eric Schmidt.”

The judge’s satchel bounced off the floor. I scooped it up and handed it back to him. Cooper’s face was bright red and he said tightly, “Thank you,” as he took the bag from my hand.

Art stood next to me. “It’s time for you to go.” Art was my height, five nine, but twice my bulk. I had no doubt that he could chuck me out into the snow without breaking a sweat. That wasn’t a pleasant thought. Maybe I should come back later.

Even knowing it was foolhardy, I said, “I’ve already spoken to Lily Eby and Violet Graber. I thought you would like to tell your side of the story, too.”

The judge’s cheeks flashed red. He held up his hand to Art, who was about to grab me by the arm again. “It’s okay. Miss . . .” he paused.

“Braddock.”

He nodded. “Miss Braddock, please walk with me back to my office and we can talk there. I have exactly five minutes before I have to leave, so whatever you have to say, you’d better figure out how to say it fast.”

I hid my victorious smile. Half the battle was won.

My wet sneakers squeaked on the hallway’s tiled floor. Snow boots were on the top of tomorrow’s agenda. Not only because I wiped out in front of the Holmes County sheriff, but because my toes were half-frozen from walking around in wet sneakers all day. If I lost a toe to frostbite, my mother would never forgive me. It would ruin her vision for the wedding, which included glass slippers.

Cooper stopped in front of a heavy carved wooden door. A golden plate in the middle read, “Judge Mueller.”

He turned the knob and said, “After you.”

I shivered. His voice had a Count Dracula quality to it. Maybe I should have brought Anna or another member of the quilting circle with me. I stepped inside the office that wasn’t large by Dallas standards, but beautifully decorated in a Victorian tradition. The carpet was intricate and flower-patterned, but not in a girly way. If flowers could be manly, it was those flowers. The large window looked out onto the courtyard and the snow-covered stone soldier.

Cooper set his satchel in the middle of the empty desk. There wasn’t even a desktop computer on it, but it was clear his briefcase was large enough to hold a laptop. Perhaps that was his preference. “Talk.”

“You grew up Amish,” I said without preamble.

“Yes, I did. It’s no secret. In fact, my background helped me win the election. I can understand both the Amish and English worlds better than most.”

“You left the Amish not long after Eric Schmidt died.” Again, I stated this as fact.

He sat in his executive chair, straight and ridged. “Yes.”

I remained standing. “Is there any connection between those two events?”

He gave me a level glare. “Eric was my best friend, but his death was not the reason I left the Amish life.”

“What was the reason?”

He scowled. “That is a deeply personal question, and one I don’t have to answer for you or for anyone.”

He rocked back in his desk chair. “Who are you to ask anyone about Eric Schmidt? Obviously, you are not from Holmes County, and you’re not Amish.”

“I’m Eleanor Lapp’s niece.”

“I know Eleanor.”

“She was a close friend of Eric’s mother, who made a dying wish asking my aunt to find out what really happened to her son, Eric. My aunt is not well enough to do that, so I offered to help.”

“I’m sorry that Eleanor is ill. I didn’t know that.” He paused. “It is admirable that you want to honor Eric’s mother in this way. I knew Evelyn my whole life. She was a nice woman, but let there be no mistakes she was confused about a good many things, the first of those being her son’s death.”

I shifted my stance. “Lily broke up with you right after the accident.”

His mouth turned into a grim line. “She did.”

“Did she tell you why?”

He folded his hands on the desktop. “You have one minute left. I suggest you make your point and get out.”

“Lily saw you on the roof with Eric only a few moments before he fell, and you wouldn’t talk to her about it afterward. It made her wonder what really happened, which is why she broke up with you.”

His jaw twitched. “That was not the reason we didn’t marry.”

“Is Eric’s death why you left the Amish?”

He pursed his lips. “My leaving the Amish and not marrying Lily had nothing to with Eric Schmidt. I was uncomfortable in my own skin while I was Amish. Lily was not. She would never leave the community. Had we married, I would have realized eventually that I didn’t want to be Amish, which would have led to misery for us both.”

“What about the bike shop?”

His eyes went wide. “You have been busy. Where did you hear about that?”

“Violet Graber.”

He paused for a moment, then said, “I haven’t thought about that shop in years.”

“Whatever happened to it?”

“The shop was Eric’s and my dream. Neither of us had much interest in farming and wanted to raise our families in town. But we were tired of working at the factory and wanted to have something to call our own. An Amish bike shop in Rolling Brook was perfect.”

“You could have opened it after he died. Why didn’t you?”

His face turned bright red. “That is none of your concern.”

“Is there a connection between the bike shop and Eric’s death?”

He stood and glowered at me. “No, there is not. The only reason the shop never opened was because after Eric died, I left the Amish.”

“I thought you said Eric’s death didn’t influence your decision.”

He glared at me but said nothing.

“What about the Dudek brothers?”

He no longer looked surprised when I knew a name from his past. “What about them?”

“Do they sell bikes to the Amish now?”

“Some. I don’t think it’s at the scale that it would have been had Eric lived, but they have a thriving business. Theirs is the only bike shop in the county.”

“Were they upset when the deal didn’t happen?” I asked.

“I suppose they weren’t happy. I honestly can’t remember.” He removed a file from his desk drawer and placed it inside his satchel. “I think your five minutes have long since expired.”

I had one more question. “How does your family feel about you being a judge? It’s so—so . . .”

He laughed for the first time. “Not Amish.”

“Well, yes. I know a little bit about the culture since my aunt is Amish. An Amish person would never run for office.”

“Let’s just say I haven’t spoken to my family in years.” He stepped around his desk. “It’s time for you to go.”

I thanked him and walked out of the office, waving to a surly Art as I went.