“Someone’s always suing a hospital. As far as clients go, they’re evergreen. New issues, new files each year. Thatch dropped the suit because he wants to stay on St. Mark’s good side. The hospital is a potential client.”

Anarchy rolled his shoulders. “So, when Graham stole Perry’s client, he stole bonus money.”

“Exactly. Think of a billable hour as a pie. From an associate’s billable hours, the firm recoups the associate’s salary and benefits. That’s one portion. Another portion goes to overhead—lights, rent, support staff.”

“I’m with you.”

“Then there’s the remainder. The firm puts what’s left into a bonus pool. So, if Perry billed twenty to thirty hours a week to the file and had five associates billing twenty to thirty hours a week—”

“They split the bonus?”

And Thatch said I was naïve? “Nope. The associates get a small percentage, the firm gets a decent percentage, and lead counsel gets the lion’s share.”

“That could add up to a huge bonus.”

“Yep. Back to the insurance. The firm keeps track of each partner’s profitability. Windfalls, like life insurance pay-outs, are divvied up based on each partner’s contributions to the firm’s bottom line.”

“And Thatch determines that?”

“Yes and no. But, here’s the kicker. Since Thatch is managing partner, he gets to claim managerial hours rather than billable hours to determine his bonus.”

“So, he might get a hefty chunk of any insurance policy taken out on Graham?”

“If the firm had a policy? Definitely.” I brushed a stray hair away from my face. “Actually, Sumner and the firm could both have policies.”

“I’ll find out.” Anarchy finished his scotch and put the glass on an end table. “Let’s return to Sumner.”

“We only have her word that Graham was alive when she went running.”

He exhaled a frustrated sigh. “That blasted air-conditioner. Without the noise, I would have heard the gunshot. Assuming Sumner is guilty, and she didn’t kill for the money, what other motive could she have?”

“Graham had an affair.”

He sat a bit straighter. “Oh?”

“Buffy said it was someone at the firm.”

“Who's her source?”

“I assume Sumner. Buffy told me the affair ended, and Sumner and Graham went to marital counseling.”

He tapped a knuckle against his teeth. “I’m not seeing a motive.”

“Neither am I.”

“What about Misty?”

I gave the idea brief consideration. “The law firm is her best client. I doubt she'd start killing the partners.”

“So, you’re picking Thatch, Fred or Bill?”

I nodded. “In that order. What about you? Who’s your top suspect?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Who?”

“Perry.”

Anarchy slept next to me.

I’d counted sheep, practiced deep breathing, and tried progressive relaxation. Nothing worked. And Anarchy’s ability to tumble into slumber and stay there was beginning to annoy me.