“How many years does this make, Liz? Sixteen or seventeen?”

“Sixteen.”

“There you have it. We’ve practiced law together for sixteen years.”

“Graham was well liked?”

“Lawyers are never well liked. How many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb?” He waited a beat. “Three. One to do it, and two sue him for malpractice."

Liz frowned at him. "That joke’s not funny, honey lamb.”

“Uh-oh. I’ve been honey lambed.” He offered his wife a quick grin. “You'll like this one, Ellison. Why did God make snakes before lawyers?”

I shook my head.

“To practice. Why don't sharks attack lawyers?”

“Perry.” Liz’s voice was a warning.

A warning he ignored. “Professional courtesy. One More. What did the attorney name his daughter?”

Liz groaned.

“Sue!”

We gaped at him.

“The point is people make up lawyer jokes because they hate lawyers.”

I couldn’t help but think Perry was obfuscating (a skill at which lawyers excelled).

The issue wasn’t clouded for Anarchy. “There’s a difference between hating someone’s profession and hating them personally.”

Half the people we knew were lawyers. Perry included. And we still liked them.

Anarchy crossed his arms. Somehow, he managed a certain gravitas despite the shorts and cowboy boots combination. “Did Graham have any enemies?”

“You asked that this morning,” Perry replied. “My answer hasn’t changed.

“So you don’t know anyone with a reason to want him dead?”

I gave Perry a silent nudge. Tell him about the client.

“Nope. Not a soul.”

“I like this barn.” I stared up at the rafters. “It’s airy. I wonder if they could use it to dry tobacco.” I was about as subtle as a jackhammer.

Anarchy stared at me as if I’d suddenly lost my mind.

Perry tugged at his collar and gave me a look best described as a stink-eye.

Liz paled.

Nester whinnied.

I crossed my fingers. Tell him about the client, Perry. Don’t make me do it for you.

“It’s not a motive for murder, but Graham and I had a disagreement about a client.”

I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Oh?” Anarchy shot a suspicious glance my way, then focused his attention on Perry.

“I brought the client into the firm, but Graham took over as lead counsel.”

“How did that happen?” I asked.

“Graham snuck onto a plane, flew to North Carolina, and wined and dined them behind Perry’s back. The man was a snake.” Liz clapped her hand to her mouth and stared at us with wide eyes.

Perry held up his hands. “Be that as it may, I didn’t kill him.”

“Then who did?” Anarchy didn’t expect an answer. He wanted to see how Perry would respond.