Santa Clawed

Brother Luther.
    “At least it wasn’t you.”
             
    At midnight, Racquel called the sheriff’s department. After St. Luke’s, Bryson had dropped her off at home and said he was going to see if the convenience store was open, as they needed milk. They didn’t. She’d checked the fridge the minute she walked inside the house.
    Furious, she called on his cell, but he didn’t pick up. She was beyond suspicion that he was having an affair. Now she just knew it. How stupid was he to leave his wife and family on Christmas Eve? She thought he’d be back in an hour. He wasn’t back by midnight.
    She reported him as a missing person and devoutly prayed he’d be picked up if his SUV had slid off the road, or perhaps an officer would cruise by the house of whomever he was sleeping with, to find his vehicle in the driveway, a mantle of snow already covering where he’d cleaned it off.
    Still, she couldn’t believe he’d be stupid enough to do this on Christmas Eve.
    What was his game?

W hen Officer Doak received the call from the dispatcher, he was driving back from a wreck on I-64. Some fool, filled with good cheer and in a nice Nissan Murano, had disregarded the treacherous conditions, only to sail through a guardrail and down an embankment. The loaded twenty-six-year-old bank teller didn’t even have a scratch. The Murano was totaled.
    Much as Officer Doak wished he wasn’t working on Christmas Eve and now early Christmas morning, he knew Rick would be taking over at four. The sheriff had many good qualities as a leader, one of his strongest being that he would pull duty on days when others really wanted to be with their families. Rick and Helen had no children. Their parents still lived, so they’d visit both sets over the holidays. However, Rick often worked during a holiday, feeling those people with children needed to be home. If the boss worked in the middle of the night on Christmas, no one in the department could complain about their schedule.
    So Doak cruised slowly in his squad car. All the people in the department had special driving training, which paid off on nights such as this.
    Racquel, wide awake and still dressed in her Christmas best, greeted him at the door. The boys, both teenagers, slept, unaware.
    Once in the kitchen, far away from the stairs up to the second floor, Racquel filled him in on the time frame of the evening.
    “A navy-blue 2008 Tahoe with Jamestown plates.” He checked the number on the plates, which she’d provided for him.
    Officer Doak marveled at her coolness, her ability to supply necessary information. “This has been going on for six months. Late calls, emergencies at the hospital.” She tapped a painted fingernail on the hard surface of the table. “Not that there aren’t emergencies for a cardiologist, but let’s just say there was always one too many. We’ve been married eighteen years. I know the drill as well as he does.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Could I offer you a Christmas drink?”
    “Oh, no, thank you, ma’am. Can’t drink on duty.”
    “Coffee?”
    “No, thank you. Do you have any idea where he might be?”
    “No. At first I thought it was one of the nurses, but I’ve seen the nurses. I think not,” she said in a clipped tone. “But when doctors stray, they usually do so in the confines of the hospital. It’s a closed world, a hothouse.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He stood. “I’ll be on the lookout for a navy-blue Tahoe.”
    “The one thing that keeps me from picking up a shotgun and going after him myself is that it’s Christmas Eve—well, Christmas. I simply can’t believe he’d pull a stunt like this on Christmas.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Officer Doak politely took his leave.
    He had two and a half hours remaining. He’d planned to go back to headquarters. With the exception of the one drunk on I-64, there wasn’t any traffic. Usually the state police handled I-64, and they had arrived a half hour after Doak. He was close by, so he hadn’t minded heading to the Deedses’ house when he heard the call. For one thing, it staved off boredom and loneliness.
    Being unmarried and still under thirty, Officer Doak tried to imagine what he’d do if he were having an affair. If the woman was unmarried herself, he could go to her house, but most people would be with their families. Many people from other places would have been taken in by locals. No one should be alone on Christmas Eve and Christmas.
    If it was a quick