Circle of Influence (A Zoe Chambers Mystery) by Annette Dashofy

or saw anything last night. Talk to his mother-in-law’s neighbors, too.” He’d have had Seth questioning Jerry McBirney’s neighbors, too, except McBirney didn’t have any.
    “Yes, sir.” Seth spun in the chair and reached for the phone.
    “And after that, make a new pot of coffee.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    As Seth punched in the number for the township offices, the other line rang. He jabbed at the blinking button and listened for a moment. “Right away, sir,” he said and hung up.
    “That was Judge Mitchell. He said you’d better get over there. Sylvia just turned herself in, and Jerry McBirney showed up. It sounds ugly.”
    SEVEN

    “Aunt Zoe. Wake up.”
    The words filtered into the middle of a horrendous nightmare in which Jerry McBirney loomed over Zoe. She tried in vain to scream for help. Fingers clutched her arm, and she jerked away.
    Bolting upright in her recliner chair, Zoe blinked and looked at the teenage girl. The slender fingers gripping her arm didn’t belong to McBirney. They belonged to Allison.
    Zoe forced her breath to slow as panic drained away. It had been a dream. Only a dream.
    “Aunt Zoe? Are you all right?” Allison asked.
    Zoe patted her hand. “I was having a nightmare. I’m fine.” She brought the chair back to a sitting position. She had only intended to close her eyes for a moment. What time was it? How long had she slept? Her mouth felt like parchment. Rancid parchment.
    Logan remained bent over her computer keyboard, right where he’d been before she’d dozed off.
    She climbed out of the recliner and moved to his side. “Find anything yet?”
    Allison dove into the deserted chair and started thumbing her cell phone’s keypad.
    Logan blew a puff of air from his lips. “Not yet. Someone reformatted the hard drive. Probably when they switched over to the new computers.”
    “So there’s nothing left on it?”
    He looked at her over his shoulder with a grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “Stuff is never really deleted from a hard drive. I’m downloading some software that will let me restore the old files.”
    “You can do that?”
    “Yep,” Logan said. “It’d be easier if you had a faster Internet connection.”
    Zoe thumped him playfully on the head. “Beggars can’t be choosers, dude.”
    He snickered without looking up. “Hey, are you gonna feed us lunch or what?”
    “Yeah. I’m starved,” Allison piped up.
    “What time is it?” Zoe squinted at the clock on the bottom of the monitor screen. Jeez. Almost one o’clock. She really did pass out. “Okay. Let me see what I’ve got in the fridge.”
    “Can’t we just order pizza? I bet Mario’s would deliver out here,” Logan said.
    Allison made a face. “Mario’s isn’t open for lunch, moron.”
    “You’re the moron.”
    “Dweeb.”
    “Goth.”
    Zoe cleared her throat. “Enough already, you two. How do hot dogs sound?”
    “Woof, woof,” Logan said followed by a pretty good impersonation of a panting hound, complete with tongue lolling out of his mouth. Allison tried to hide a small smile.
    Zoe closed her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry I asked.” But she wasn’t. The kids were laughing. For a few brief minutes, they’d escaped the horror of reality.
    She was half way to the kitchen when Allison’s alarmed cry brought her back into the room.
    “What?” Logan demanded of his sister, who was staring at her phone.
    “It’s about Gram. She’s in jail.”
    “Are you sure?” Zoe suspected the girl had misunderstood whatever message she’d received. “I know she was going to turn herself in this morning. But I can’t believe Judge Mitchell would lock her up.”
    Allison had been texting nonstop and paused only to read the response. “It’s not about the computer thing. She attacked Mr. McBirney.”

    Against her better judgment, Zoe succumbed to Logan’s demand that she drive the kids to the Vance Township Police Station to find out what was going on with their grandmother.
    The