His attorney had long legs; they weren’t knobby, but wiry, like a willow branch that could crack the whip.

“Your sister has already filed for property rights,” Evelyn said. “I’ve drawn up a counter claim, if you’d like to read it?”

Gregson read the man, or in this case, the woman—because he did his best to stay away from paperwork. There was precision in the fine features of her face, telling him all he needed to know.

“I’m sure it’s in order.”

“What do you want from this claim?”

“I already have everything I need, but if I could have even more… I’d ask for great power, and no responsibility.”

“Grow up,” Evelyn said.

“I don’t think so.”

She busied herself with her smart phone and laptop. Gregson stared out the window at the wide world. Somehow, it wasn’t how perfect one could be, but how large one could get. Gregson ate a doughnut and thought about his nieces and nephews. That was something his sister did right. Then she had the five dogs, and her husband who was an animal. Gregson knew they would go gator hunting together, which meant he would spring the legal paperwork on them afterward.

The bayou brought back memories… many mob hits. It was out in the bayou when Gregson decided to be a detective. It was either that or treasure hunting. Nobody had found the Spanish gold that was supposed to be hidden on the family estate, but that was probably just rumors past down, and a good story is worth more than rubies or diamonds or doubloons; it’s not so much about finding the gold, but looking for it. A man needs something to do. Gregson tipped his Stetson over his eyes and drifted to sleep, like a life-raft tossed by enormous waves.


“We’re here.”

Gregson woke to address his attorney. Instead, he was looking down the throat of a chocolate lab. It grinned at him and licked the window.

It was a new edition to his sister’s pack, but he was prepared. Gregson pulled the pig ear out of his pocket and tossed it out the sunroof. The lab ran for it, but the toy poodle grabbed it instead, and went into a drainage hole.

Gregson stepped out of the limo, and his presence was promptly recognized by two shotgun blasts. His brother-in-law was killing things, probably ducks. Three huskies ran to greet him. One grabbed his pant leg, and the other stuck it’s nose up his rear.

“Budd, how are you?”

“I’m doing fine; would you call off your dogs?”

“Oh, they just want to say ‘hi’; they have so much love…”

“Well, I’m a lover of myself, and my self-love is enough.”

“That’s why no girl would marry you; you don’t have enough love to give,” his sister said.

“I’d like to introduce you to my attorney. She loves the law, and I love to watch great lovers. This weekend should be quite an exhibition.”

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