"Nothing, thanks."
So far Pat had avoided looking at any of them directly and was uneasily shifting his weight from one foot to the other while restlessly moving his fingers around the brim of his hat—dead giveaways that this wasn't a social call.
Lucky pushed aside his unfinished plate and stood up. "What is it, Pat?"
Pat Bush looked at him with a beleaguered expression. He removed a folded document from the breast pocket of his uniform shirt. "I have a warrant for your arrest."
Sage and Tanya gasped. Laurie raised a hand to her chest as though someone had just wounded her. Devon's pale lips parted in surprise. Chase's reaction was volatile. He exclaimed, "What the hell?"
Lucky snatched the document from the sheriff, scanned it, then tossed it down onto the table. He muttered words his mother wouldn't normally have allowed spoken in her house. "I have an alibi," he told Pat, pointing down at Devon.
"So I see. Ma'am." After acknowledging her, Pat looked back at Lucky. "Once a warrant has been issued, I haven't got a choice. You'll have to come with me now. Chase can bring the lady in when they start to question you. It'll all be cleared up soon."
"Does he have to be placed under arrest?" Laurie asked.
"I'm sorry about it, Laurie, but, yeah, he does. He can finish his lunch though. I'm in no hurry to get back to town."
"Well, I'm in a hurry to get this mess over with. Let's go." Lucky stamped toward the door.
Pat caught his arm. "We've got to do this by the book. I've got to Mirandize you."
"Fine," Lucky said tautly. "But can we go outside? I don't want my mother to have to listen."
"Don't patronize me, James Lawrence," she said sharply. "I'm not a shrinking violet who needs protection from anything unpleasant. I fought your daddy's cancer for two years before losing him to it. I'm unwilling to give up another member of my family just now, so if they want a fight, they'll get one," she said staunchly.
"Way to go, Mother," said Sage, looking just as determined as Laurie.
Lucky winked at his mother. "Fix something good for supper, because I'll be home way before then." He went through the back door. Pat doffed his hat to the ladies and followed him out.
Pat read him his rights. "Hate like hell having to do this," he mumbled as he clamped the handcuffs around Lucky's wrists.
"Just do it and stop apologizing for it. I understand. It's your duty."
"I'm doubly glad you've got the woman."
"Why?" Lucky asked as he ducked his head and climbed into the backseat of the patrol car. Pat's grim tone of voice sounded discouraging and made him uneasy.
"'Cause they've got Susan Young, and she, my friend, is saying you did it."
* * *
One had to admire Devon's composure as she entered the interrogation room. The two federal agents smoked like chimneys, so the small room was filled with smoke. She was like a breath of fresh air as she entered with Pat.
He directed her to a chair; she sat down without compromising her straight, proud posture. Lucky tried to catch her eye and give her an encouraging nod, but she didn't even glance in his direction. Instead, she gave the agent her undivided attention.
Once the pleasantries were out of the way, he got down to business. "Mr. Tyler claims that he was with you the night his building burned to the ground."
Her green stare was cool and steady. "That's right. He was."
Pat sat down on a corner of the table in front of her. In a far less intimidating voice he said, "Tell us how and when you two met."
"As you know, Sheriff Bush, we met that same afternoon in a lounge on Highway Two Seventy-seven." A frown wrinkled her brow. "I'm not sure about the name."
"It doesn't have a name," Pat said.
"Oh. Then I guess that's why I don't remember it."
"Just tell us what happened," one of the agents interjected impatiently as he lit another cigarette.