"Where?"
"Dallas."
"What's her name?"
"Devon Haines."
"That sounds familiar."
"You've probably read her newspaper column."
r />
"Sure!" Chase exclaimed, thumping the bar with his fist. "Devon Haines."
"I accidentally stumbled over her byline and picture in yesterday morning's paper." Lucky recounted the rest of the story to them, leaving out the personal aspects of it and glossing over the tempestuous hours he'd spent in a bowling alley and batting barn—so he'd have something to hit legitimately—after his meeting with her and until he decided to drive home.
"The lady did not want to be found," he said. "When I did find her, she refused to cooperate, said she wouldn't, couldn't, be my alibi. Now I know why." The coffee was scalding hot, but he tossed it back as though the mug were a shot glass full of whiskey. Tanya silently rose to get him a refill.
"Did you meet her husband?" Chase wanted to know.
"No."
"Was he there?"
"No."
"Where was he?"
"I don't know."
"What's his name?"
"I don't know."
"If she's married, what was she doing sleeping with you?"
"I don't know that either. Who the hell can figure out what goes on inside a woman's head?" Angrily Lucky flung himself off the barstool and began to prowl the length of the galley kitchen. "This is one situation I've never run across. I don't have any experience, and I'm stumped." He stopped pacing to address his audience. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not claiming to be an angel. I confess to having done some pretty wild things with women."
"I don't think anyone could dispute that."
"We've done some pretty wild things together."
Chase cast an uncomfortable glance toward his wife. His love for Tanya McDaniel had tamed the former rodeo star considerably.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon not discuss our escapades in front of Tanya."
"Those escapades aren't the point," Lucky said irritably. "Tanya knows you were a hell-raiser before she came along. My point is that for all my carousing, I have never slept with a married woman. I drew the line at that." Mindlessly he rubbed his stomach, as though the very thought of adultery made him queasy. "I never would even go out with a divorcee until the final, final papers were final. So this broad," he said irreverently, aiming his index finger in the general direction of Dallas, "not only duped me with the phony name bit, but tricked me into doing something that, old-fashioned as it sounds, I believe is morally wrong."
He returned to his seat, dejectedly throwing himself onto the padded cushion. Eyes vacant and bleary, he contemplated near space.
"Lucky," Chase ventured after a lengthy period of silence, "what are you going to do?"
"Probably ten to twenty for arson."
"Don't say that!" Tanya cried. "You can't go to prison for something you didn't do."
"You know what I meant, Lucky," Chase said. "You can't let her off the hook that easily. She fooled around, so she can damn well pay the consequences."