Texas! Lucky (22 page)

"Can you prove it?"

Her head snapped up. "Can you prove we weren't?"

"No," the agent retorted, "but I've got another woman in another room claiming virtually the same thing, except she says that he bragged to her about setting a fire to collect insurance money."

"She's lying."

"Is she?"

"Yes."

"How do we know?"

"Because he was with me all night."

"Screwing?"

It would have taken more than Pat Bush's substantial bulk to stop Lucky then. Roaring like a pouncing lion, he launched himself across the room toward the agent who had practically spat the nasty word in Devon's face.

He threw the agent off balance and into the table, sending it crashing to the floor. Cheap wood splintered. Devon gave a surprised cry, sprang from her chair, and backed toward the door out of harm's way.

But then Chase pulled open the door and came barreling through, nearly mowing her down. He'd been waiting in the squad room, but at the first hint of trouble had come charging in to offer assistance to his younger brother. The second agent, the one not being pummeled by Lucky's flying fists, charged forward to help his cohort. He was grabbed from behind. "Not so fast, buddy," Chase growled into the agent's ear as he restrained him.

Pat, recovering from his dismay, dodged Lucky's fists, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him to his feet. "What the hell's the matter with you?" he shouted. "This isn't going to help."

He slammed the younger man against the wall and pinned him there by splaying one hand open over Lucky's chest. With his other hand he assisted the agent to his feet.

Lucky's torso was heaving from exertion and fury. He aimed his index finger at the agent. "You son of a bitch. Don't you ever talk to her—"

"I'm filing assault charges against you!" the agent shouted. He took a folded white handkerchief from his pocket and tried to stanch the flow of bright red blood from his cut lip.

"You'll do nothing of the sort," Pat declared in a loud voice. "If you do, I'll go to your superiors and lodge a formal complaint against you for the way you've conducted this interrogation. You intentionally badgered and humiliated Ms. Haines, who was doing her best to cooperate with your investigation."

"He's right," Chase said through gritted teeth. He had the agent's hands up between his shoulder blades. He pushed them higher. The man groaned. "Isn't he right? Before you answer, maybe you should know that half a dozen deputies and I were listening through the door to every word said in this room."

"Maybe," the agent gasped, "maybe he did get a little out of hand."

"Chase," Pat barked, "let him go. His eyes are bugging out."

Lucky was virtually unaware of what was going on around him. He had tasted blood and wanted more. Glaring at the agent malevolently, he threatened, "I'm gonna nail you—"

"Lucky, shut up!" Pat called forward a deputy from among those congregated in the doorway. "Take him upstairs and lock him up."

"Huh?" The sobering thought of a jail cell snapped Lucky out of his murderous mood. "What for?"

"Suspected arson, remember?" Pat said calmly, nodding the deputy toward Lucky.

"But I'm innocent!"

"That's how you can plead before the judge later this afternoon. In the meantime I recommend you teach your mouth some manners and cool off your temper."

Lucky was too dumbfounded to resist the deputy's manhandling. Besides, this deputy had played on the same regional championship baseball team with Lucky and had been a friend for years. He looked at Devon. "Take her home, Chase."

"Right," his brother said. "Stay the hell out of trouble, will you?"

"See you in court," Lucky quipped as he was escorted through the door. His smile vanished, however, when the crowd of deputies, clerks, and dispatchers parted for him, and he noticed a spot of color in the otherwise monochromatic gray squad room. Susan Young was standing against the far wall, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and smiling complacently.

Chapter 14

"
T
hat was a damn stupid thing to do."

The pickup truck with Tyler Drilling Co. stenciled onto the doors jounced over a chuckhole. Chase downshifted, giving his brother a fulminating glance across the truck's interior. The upholstery's color was no longer distinguishable. It bore layers of grime from scores of drilling sites.

"Don't you know the penalty for assaulting a federal agent?"

"No, do you?" Lucky shot back.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, I wasn't penalized, so leave me alone, okay?" Lucky slumped lower in his seat as Chase herded the pickup through the twilight evening toward their family home. Then, feeling bad for acting surly toward his brother, he added, "Thanks for posting my bail."

"Thank Tanya. The money came out of her house fund."

"Her what?"

"Her house fund. She wants to buy a house, and has been saving money for a down payment."

Lucky shoved back his dark blond hair. "Jeez. I feel terrible."

"Not as terrible as you'd feel spending the time before your trial in jail. And not as terrible as you'd feel if the judge had listened to the prosecutor and placed your bail higher than we could afford."

The federal agents had convinced the prosecutor that they had enough evidence against James Lawrence Tyler to arraign him on an arson charge. They contended that if one woman would lie on his behalf, another would. Why should they believe Devon over Susan? It would be left to the court to decide the veracity of each woman and determine Lucky's guilt or innocence.

Everyone on Lucky's side believed that the agents were acting out of pique now more than conviction of his guilt, but unfortunately there was nothing they could do about it at this point.

Lucky's attorney had pleaded with the judge to reduce the amount of bail recommended by the prosecutor. He cited how well known Lucky was in the community, and guaranteed that his client had every intention of appearing in court to deny the allegations and clear his name. The judge had known the Tyler boys all their lives. They were rowdy, but hardly criminals. He'd been lenient.

"How's Devon?" Lucky asked now.

"Pretty shaken up. Mother took her under her wing."

"Is there any way we can keep her name out of the newspapers? At least until the actual trial?"

"So far, nobody but the people in that interrogation room know who your alibi is. I doubt the feds will tell anybody. They don't want anyone to know that one of them was overpowered and damn near beat to a pulp." Chase cast his brother another glance of reprimand. "Dumb move, Lucky. If Pat hadn't been there to smooth things over, you'd be in a world of hurt."

Lucky, however, was only interested in Devon's opinion of him. "She probably thinks I'm a hothead."

"You are a hothead."

"And you're not?"

"I've got better sense than to attack a federal agent."

"One of them never talked to your woman like that agent did."

"Oh, so now she's 'your woman'?" Chase asked.

"Just an expression."

"Or a Freudian slip."

Lucky stared glumly through the bug-splattered windshield. "Who ever would have thought a fist-fight at the place would result in a mess like this?"

Chase offered no reply, but the question had been rhetorical anyway. Broodily Lucky contemplated the scenery that whizzed past.

"Anybody seen or heard from Little Alvin and Jack Ed lately?"

"Nope. They're keeping a low profile."

"If you ask me, the feds would do better to lay off us and Devon and go after those two."

"Yeah, but nobody asked you." Chase wheeled the truck into the lane leading to the house, from which mellow golden light was pouring through the windows. "Don't entertain any notions about going after them yourself," Chase warned. "We don't need another assault charge against you."

"Devon's still here."

Lucky was heartened by the sight of her red compact in the driveway. Chase parked the truck beside it. Once out of the pickup, Lucky jogged up the steps and through the front door.

"Hey, everybody, the jailbird is free!"

"That's not funny," Laurie admonished as he entered the living room where she was sitting with Devon, Sage, and Tanya. Chase had phoned ahead and reported the outcome of the arraignment.

"Neither is jail," Lucky said in an appropriately solemn tone. Crossing to where Devon was seated on the sofa, he dropped down beside her and, without compunction, covered her knee with his hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Did those bastards give you any grief after I was taken away?"

"No. They allowed me to leave. Chase drove me here." She gave Laurie, Sage, and Tanya smiles. "I've been well looked after, although all the fuss was unnecessary."

"After the dreadful way you were treated?" Laurie stood up. "Of course it was necessary, and then some. My family owes you a debt of gratitude, Devon." She moved toward the arched opening. "Boys, wash up. We've been holding dinner for you."

"I'd like a chance to speak to Devon alone, Mother," Lucky said.

"After dinner. I'm sure she's famished. Chase, stop that smooching and usher everybody into the dining room, please."

Chase reluctantly released Tanya, whose neck he'd been nibbling. Laughing, he remarked, "We should have had Mother in that interrogation room with us today. They wouldn't have dared cross her."

Laurie had heeded Lucky's earlier request and cooked a sumptuous country dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn on the cob, and black-eyed peas. She'd made his favorite banana pudding for dessert. Despite the events of the afternoon, the mood at the dinner table was jolly.

As they were finishing their dessert and coffee, Tanya clinked her fork against her drinking glass. Everyone fell silent and looked at her, surprised because she so rarely called attention to herself.

"I think this family needs a piece of good news." Reaching for her husband's hand, she smiled into his eyes and proclaimed, "There's a new Tyler on the way. I'm pregnant."

Laurie clasped her hands beneath her chin, her eyes immediately growing misty. "Oh, how wonderful!"