“They want to see the show,” Lee said bluntly. “They want to see the big lawyer make a fool of himself over a bit of saloon fluff.”

“That’s not…” David raked his fingers through his black hair, realizing suddenly that he’d left his hat at the office. “I won’t—”

“If you go storming in to confront that Jeffers bitch you will,” Lee replied. “David, think. Use that keen lawyer brain of yours. Tessa Roarke is accused of murdering a man.”

“She didn’t do it.”

“How do you know?” Lee asked.

“She told me.”

“And I suppose you take everything your clients tell you as the gospel truth?”

“No. But I know Tessa isn’t lying. I feel it in my gut.”

“In your gut?” Lee studied his friend. “Or in your groin?”

David’s lips thinned to a tight line. His face hardened, the coppery skin stretched across his cheekbones. “If you weren’t my friend, you’d be picking yourself up off the ground.” David clenched and unclenched his fists in an effort to control his fury.

“I know,” Lee said. “But if I weren’t your friend I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t give a damn if you made a fool of yourself in front of half the town. And you can’t go storming into Margaret Jeffers’s store demanding satisfaction without looking like a fool. You’re thinking like a man, not an attorney. This is Wyoming, David.” Lee’s voice hardened. “Women sit on juries here, or have you forgotten?”

David slumped against the rough boards covering the outside of the funeral parlor. “Damn.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in a weary gesture, then raked his hand through his hair once again. “Damn.” He opened his eyes and met Lee’s penetrating gray-eyed gaze. “You’re right.”

Lee chuckled, showing straight white teeth. “I know I’m right.”

“I got so damn mad,” David confided. “Beneath all the bluster, Tessa was near tears. She didn’t even cry when she was jailed.”

“You’ve always been a sucker for a woman’s tears,” Lee reminded him.

“Yeah,” David admitted. “God help me, so I have.”

“Are you certain she’s innocent?” Lee shuffled from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with the question he’d had to ask. They both knew he wasn’t just asking if she was innocent of the crime of murder, but innocent in other ways as well.

“She didn’t kill Arnie Mason.” David knew he was only answering part of Lee’s question, but it was the only answer he could give. He wasn’t certain about the rest. And he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it with Lee.

“Can you prove it in court?”

“Not yet.”

“What’s she told you about that night?”

“Very little, except that she didn’t kill him.”

“Then how can you be so sure?” When he looked at David, his expression was skeptical.

“Tessa Roarke is left-handed.” David moved away from the side of the funeral parlor and began to retrace his steps to the front of the building. “Have you seen the wound in Arnie Mason’s throat?” David asked his friend. “I mean, have you really looked at it? Studied it? Tested it?”

“No.” Lee shook his head. “Not as carefully as you seem to have.”

“Then let’s go take a look,” David suggested, clapping Lee on the shoulder with the palm of his hand. “I’d like your opinion.”

“As long as you don’t make me look at him too long.” Lee smiled roguishly, his eyes twinkling. “I had to look at the son of a bitch nearly every night at the Satin Slipper. I don’t relish the thought of him ruining my sleep now that he’s dead.”

“Neither do I.” David smiled. “But I’m afraid it’s too late for me. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since the bastard was murdered. And I don’t expect to have one until I prove Tessa is innocent.” He opened the front door of the funeral parlor and allowed Lee to precede him.

“Speaking of Tessa…” Lee hesitated before stepping inside.

“Yes?”