“All stand,” the bailiff bellowed, and we all bolted to our feet—even the remaining dogs—and stayed there while he continued with his rapid fire chant. “Oyez, oyez, oyez! This honorable court is now open and sitting for the dispatch of its business. God save the state of Virginia and this honorable court. Judge Jane Shiffley presiding. You may be seated.”

The dogs kept a keen eye on the rest of us until we’d all seated ourselves on the hay bales. Then they began the traditional canine ritual of turning around three times and settling down again in the hay. The judge waited until the prolonged rustling had stopped before continuing.

“Let’s pick up where we left off,” she said. “Are the defendants now represented by counsel?”

“They are, your honor,” Rob said. “Robert James Langslow, attorney-at-law, appearing for Caleb Shiffley and Ronald Butler.”

Rob was wearing what we called his Lancelot expression—the male equivalent of Mother’s Joan of Arc look. Judge Jane regarded him dyspeptically.

“You represented many clients on potential death-penalty cases?” she said at last.

One of the defendants uttered a small squeak. I couldn’t tell which one.

The county prosecutor stepped forward. She was dressed in jeans and a red-and-white Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer sweater rather than her usual elegant pinstriped suit, but somehow it didn’t make her less imposing.

“The district attorney’s office is not asking for the death penalty, your honor. In fact, at present, we’re not filing any changes related to the death of Mr. Barliman Vess.”

“But you could be eventually,” the judge said. “What if in the course of his investigation the chief finds out these two little hooligans had it in for poor Mr. Vess? And you two decide the whole thing was not the unfortunate accidental consequence of a stupid prank but a deliberate, premeditated murder?”

More squeaking from at least one of the defendants.

“Your honor,” Rob said. “I’m only representing the defendants for the purposes of arraignment and, dare I hope, bail. They will be represented by experienced defense attorneys as soon as possible. Seems as if every other lawyer in the county is off spending the holiday in a warmer climate.”

“And every other judge,” Judge Jane growled. “Or I wouldn’t be hearing this.” She glared at Rob for a while. He stood, wearing the sort of innocent, trustworthy look he used to put on as a teenager when he was trying, against all odds, to talk Dad into letting him drive the car. His two clients looked anxiously from him to the judge and back again.

“Let’s get this over with, then,” Judge Jane said, with a few whacks from the gavel to underline her point.