"He'd been that way all night?"
She faltered, but finally answered, "Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I know."
The agent stood up and slid his hands into his pockets. "Couldn't he have slipped out, driven back to town, set a torch to the garage where they kept all that heavily insured equipment, then returned to the room without you ever knowing he was gone?"
"No."
"It wouldn't have taken him more than, hmm, say two hours."
"He didn't leave."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
"You sound so definite."
"I am."
"There's a fair amount of space in a motel room to move around, Ms. Haines. Couldn't he have—"
"We were sharing not only the room, but the bed," she stated, her eyes flashing. "If you wanted me to admit that, why weren't you man enough to come right out and ask instead of pussyfooting around?"
"Amen," Lucky intoned.
"Mr. Tyler and I were sleeping in the same bed," Devon continued. "A double bed. Very close to each other, out of necessity. And if Mr. Tyler had gotten up and left the room, he would have awakened me. I'm not that sound a sleeper."
God, she was terrific. Lucky wanted to give her a standing ovation. Or a kiss. Or both. She'd cut the s.o.b.'s down to size. But they weren't giving up entirely.
"Did you sleep without waking up through the night?"
Lucky recognized the trap and hoped that Devon did. If she said yes, they could claim that he had sneaked out and returned without her knowledge, planning all along to use her as his alibi. Her alternative was to admit that she had been intimate with a stranger.
"No." At greater risk to herself, she had opted for the latter choice. Lucky admired her spunk, but suffered for her pride. "I woke up once."
"What for?"
Despite Pat's restraint, Lucky shot from the seat of the chair. "What the hell difference does it make?"
Pat shoved him back down, stepped in front of him, and used his own body as a shield between Lucky and the agents, whom Lucky was prepared to tear apart with his bare hands.
With Lucky temporarily quelled, Pat appealed to the agents. "Look, you two, Ms. Haines has volunteered to come here. You know she's married and that this is uncomfortable for her. Take it easy, okay?"
They ignored him. "Answer the question. Ms. Haines."
She glared at the agent, cast Lucky a swift glance, then lowered her head to address her damp, clenched hands lying in her lap. "During the night, Mr. Tyler and I … were physically intimate."
"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."