“We reap what we sow,” said Merit. For once, her holier-than-thou attitude didn’t bother me.

“Be that as it may,” said Thatch. “It sounds as if Buffy is condoning murder. Some people just need killing?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t want him dead,” Buffy replied. “If the managing partner job had come up for a vote, you would have lost.”

He shrugged. “I guess we'll never know.”

“Someone had a reason to murder Graham.”

Thatch pointed a pork rib at her. “People who live in glass houses..."

Buffy sat very straight and looked down her nose. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“When Graham was doing due diligence for taking Bill’s company public, he found the corporate apartment on the Plaza. I believe a pretty young woman lived there.”

“You’re despicable.”

Buffy wasn’t wrong. She pushed away from the table. "I’m going to check on Sumner." Then, she strode toward the clubhouse.

Libba stared across the table. “Not cool, Thatcher. Not cool.”

“She asked for it.”

“She's a middle-aged mother of two. You’re a highly paid attorney, who argues for a living. It wasn’t a fair fight.”

He rolled his eyes. I hated it when teen-aged girls did that. I especially hated it when grown men did it.

Libba gave him her best glare (not as good at Mother’s or mine, but not bad). “David beat Goliath.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I got the sense that Buffy had ammunition she didn’t use. Because, unlike you, she didn’t want to throw a friend to the wolves.” She jerked her thumb at me.

At me. I was the wolf in her scenario. Or, I was married to the wolf.

A dull red climbed Thatch’s neck and touched his cheeks.

I silently cheered for Libba, even if she had called me a wolf.

“Has Anarchy heard back about the gun?” Mel pressed an open palm to her tanned chest.

“Not yet.”

“How will I sleep tonight? The killer was in our cabin.”

“The killer is at this table,” said Thatch.

Mel gasped.

Merit fixed him with her pale gaze. “You enjoy making people feel uncomfortable. I wonder why that is. Does it give you an edge in arguments?"

“You’ve cut to the core of his lawyerly mystique.” Perry turned to me. “I told you, there’s a reason people hate lawyers.”

“I’m beginning to see why.”

“And you’re not even looking at a bill.”

“What will happen with Charlie's case?” asked Libba. “Now that Graham is dead.”

Perry and Thatch exchanged a glance, and a nod, then Thatch said, “The firm won't touch it. In my estimation, it was a nuisance filing, designed to extort money from the hospital." He grimaced at Charlie. “That’s not to say another lawyer won’t pick it up, but we're out.”

“Thanks, Thatch.”