Page 262 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

They pulled down the long driveway of an estate that looked like it belonged on Philadelphia’s Main Line rather than in the rural mountain area. Wade parked and took a deep breath. “You ready for this?”

Jamie nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She opened the passenger door and let herself out.

Wade admired the landscaping. Someone had spent a fortune on the outdoor living space. He caught up with Jamie before she reached the massive front door.

She rang the bell, and a man who appeared to be in his mid-to-late forties answered. “Can I help you?”

“Are you a relation of Judge Van Britton’s?” Jamie asked.

“What’s this about?” He widened his stance.

“Please answer the question.” Wade took a step forward.

“I’m her brother.”

“We’re from the Pennsylvania State Police. I’m Sergeant Brunner, and this is Sergeant Strauss. Do you mind if we come inside?”

The man stepped aside and gestured for them to enter. “I apologize for my rudeness. From time to time the press come sniffing around wanting to do a story on my sister and hoping todig up dirt on our family. I thought you were reporters. Do you have news?”

Wade ignored the question until they were all seated in the formal living area. “I’m sorry to inform you?—”

The man’s face paled. “You found her?”

“We did.”

“And she’s…”

“Her remains were discovered on July 8th. DNA results came in this morning confirming a match,” Wade said.

The judge’s brother crumpled before them, clearly distraught by the news. “Deep down I knew, but I held out a glimmer of hope she was alive somewhere. I know it’s naive, but hope was all I had.”

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Jamie’s empty words echoed off the walls in the cavernous room.

Wade stoodinside the doors of the courthouse waiting for his turn to step up to the metal detector at the security checkpoint. He hoped to learn more about the judge by talking to her friends and co-workers.

Once inside, he made his way to the chambers formerly belonging to Judge Van Britton. He figured someone there should be able to direct him to her former staff members so he could begin interviewing them.

He asked the receptionist, but she’d only been there a couple of months, so she called for a paralegal, who in turn went to find a law clerk. And so it went for the first thirty-five minutes of his visit until he finally sat down with Judge Dunn, who occupied the chambers directly next to Judge Van Britton’s.

When they settled into their seats at the cafeteria with coffee in hand, he leaned back and studied the judge. “What did you think of Judge Van Britton?”

“She was competent.”

“I meant personally.”

“I didn’t think of her.”

“You had to have an opinion outside of your professional one.” Wade sighed. “Did she strike you as uptight or easygoing? Was she distant or friendly?”

“I don’t want to say anything to disparage her.”

“This is a police interview, not a eulogy. Honesty is far more helpful than kindness.”

The judge cleared his throat and took another long drink of his coffee. “In that case, uptight is a good word choice. Judge Van Britton didn’t make small talk or take the time to get to know any of the people on her staff. She rarely smiled and kept to herself. I can’t think of a single person who knew her well enough to converse with her. Most people did little more than nod in her direction when passing in the corridor.”

“Did she have anyone she would go to lunch with?” Wade asked.

“No. She rarely left the building for lunch. She took it in her chambers and asked someone to order for her. Often, she’d ask one of the administrative assistants, but occasionally she’d send a paralegal or a law clerk to pick it up.”

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