Plainly Murder: A Penguin Special from Obsidian (8 page)

I tossed and turned all night, thinking about what my aunt said. Was Eric murdered? And who had murdered him? Cooper or Ira? The Dudeks? All of them in a giant conspiracy, maybe? I was in over my head. Maybe I should call that sheriff who had plucked me off the ground in front of the courthouse and let him sort it out. He’d laugh me back to Texas.

On my third morning in Holmes County, Aunt Eleanor was up before the sun. It was a relief to see her moving around the kitchen, even if her steps were halted. Oliver sat at her feet next to the propane-powered stove, watching intently as she flipped a piece of bacon in a cast iron skillet.

“Are you feeling better today?” I asked.

“
Ya
, but it will be
gut
to have a day of rest at home. I may have overdone it yesterday.
Gott
reminds me that I don’t have the strength I once did.”

“You need to rest more.” I bit my lip. I wanted to ask my aunt to move to Texas. I could take care of her there. I knew she would never go. She’d lived her whole life in Holmes County and most of it as an Amish woman. At her age, moving to a big city like Dallas, especially my highrise apartment downtown, would be too much for her. And she 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 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, considering my request. Finally, he met my gaze. “Eric was my closest friend. He was like a brother to me. It’s painful to remember that he’s gone, even after all of the time that has passed. Constant reminders of Eric were among the
many
reasons I left the Amish.” He rocked back in his desk chair. “I’m still close by, but far enough away that I rarely cross paths with anyone who knew Eric. I make a point of not to going into Rolling Brook. Ever.”

I leaned forward. “Cooper, Lily believes that you pushed Eric off the roof. The Dudeks tell me that you and Eric were to sign the contract for the bike shop that night. Eric wanted to talk to them about something . . .” I trailed off.

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have to defend myself about this, but Lily is wrong.”

“She saw the two of you fighting just minutes before he fell to the ground.”

“So we were arguing. I admitted that.”

“Arguing about what?” Anna asked as she pushed her glasses up the bridge her nose. She looked very much the kind Amish grandmother, but I wasn’t fooled and neither was Cooper.

He scowled.

“It was about the bike shop, wasn’t it? And whatever Eric wanted to tell the Dudek brothers?” I said.

“Fine. Yes.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Eric thought we should involve Ira in the business. Ira and Eric were close growing up, and Eric wanted to help out a friend. I understood that, but I also knew Ira was bad for business. He was hothead and rash. The Dudek brothers didn’t care for him.”

“Why not?” Anna asked.

“Ira worked for them a short time. They fired him and said he stole from them. Ira always denied it.”

“They mentioned that when I spoke to them. What did he steal?”

“They claimed small things: money from the cash drawer, small bike parts. I didn’t know who told the truth, Ira or the Dudeks, but it didn’t matter. The two could not work together. I told Eric that if Ira was part of the deal, the Dudeks weren’t going to do it.”

“Could he work at the store?” I asked.

“I didn’t want him involved at all. I didn’t want to upset our business partners or do anything to endanger the contract. Ira was my friend, too, but this was business. Eric and I discussed him many times, and I thought the conversation was over.” He sighed. “But Eric brought it up again while we worked on the barn roof, and we argued. He said he planned to talk to the Dudeks about Ira again. Finally, I was able to convince him not to. He saw that it could ruin our store, too.”

That’s why Eric never came off of the barn to talk to the Dudeks. Cooper talked him out of it.

“Why do you think he wanted Ira in the project so badly?” I asked.

“Ira knew he would inherit the mercantile someday,” Cooper explained. “But he told us that he wanted to make something for himself on his own.”

“That’s not very Amish,” Anna said.

“No, it wasn’t. Now, I’m sure Ira is grateful for his family store. It’s made a good living for him and his family.”

“Had Eric lived, would you still be Amish?” I asked.

“I’m not certain, but yes, everything changed when Eric died. Everything. Before I had my whole life set out before me. All I had to do was grab it. I never questioned what my life would be like.”

“And then Eric died,” Anna whispered.

“And then Eric died.” His voice was sad. “And I realized that I didn’t know anything about life, and I needed to leave the Amish to find it.”

“When I was here earlier in the week, I saw Ira outside of the courthouse. Art said that he came here often to see you.”

Cooper scowled. “He does. Even though I’m not Amish anymore and Eric is gone. Ira and I are still friends. He drops by every week or so to chat.”

“Doesn’t he remind you of Eric’s death?”

Cooper stood. “Yes, but he’s still my friend—the only one I have left from my childhood. I’m not responsible for Eric’s death and neither is Ira. It was a terrible accident. I wish you would believe that and leave us be.” He stepped around his desk. “There’s nothing more I can tell you. Wherever you go with this from here on out, I’m asking you to keep my name out of it.”

Anna nodded, but I promised nothing.

Back at the security desk, Art and Oliver were sharing a bag of potato chips.

“What are you giving him to eat?” I asked.

Art stuffed that chip bag into his lunchbox. “He just looks so hungry.”

Oliver whimpered.

I jabbed my fists into my hips. “Oliver.” I turned to Art. “Of course he looks hungry. He’s a dog. He’s a master of the art of looking hungry.”

Art looked sheepish. “Everything go okay with the judge?”

“Yes.” It was the best answer I had.

He scratched Oliver between the ears. The pair shared a conspiratorial grin, making me wonder what else they’d eaten. Art straightened up. “The buggy sign you ran into the other day will be replaced, but don’t worry, we aren’t charging you.”

“Um, thanks,” I muttered as I clipped Oliver’s leash onto his collar.

Anna arched an eyebrow as she tied her bonnet ribbon.