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Chapter 6
"Calm down, Sarah... Now you listen to me. You know Ray better than any one alive. Did you two have a fight or misunderstanding that would cause him not to come home?"
Sheriff Luther Pittman had his feet up on his desk, the telephone cradled against his shoulder. His hands were busy cleaning the mud and debris off his hunting boots. This phone call was entirely expected, but he wished she’d waited long enough for him to get a cup of coffee before she called. He glanced at his watch. 8:06 a.m. Yea, Sarah Michaud was worried about her darling husband, Ray. It seems he hadn't come home last night, and it wasn't like him not to call if he was going to be away.
"Look, Sarah, I don't mean to pry into your personal business, but are you and Ray having marital problems? I mean, honestly, it does seem like Ray has been, well, let's say detached, lately..."
He was now chuckling under his breath at the little joke he had just made. No one would ever find Ray’s remains. Luther had seen to that. Parts of him were on Arab Mountain, other parts were over by the drop-off at Mouse Pass, and still others had taken up residence at the bottom of that old pool of mine tailings over by Remington. Poor Sarah, he thought, too bad she was such a puritan, he'd like to score with her, himself. Maybe that would still be possible, now that Ray had chosen to get himself killed and hacked up like he did.
Did she really know about Ray and Brenda's trysts? Was she perceptive enough to suspect? Maybe he could plant a seed in her mind, make her jealous enough to take care of Brenda herself. This was worthy of consideration. The scorned wife strikes out at the object of her husband's misplaced affection. Yea... that might actually work!
Luther dismissed the thought. Brenda wasn't much, but she was his, at least for now. She needed to suffer, knowing that her precious Ray would no longer be able to share any of those intimate little secrets which lovers confide in one another, while they’re rutting like rabbits. No, he couldn't allow Sarah to do his bidding. He had to look into Brenda's eyes, to see the fear just before she closed them for the last time. No one would deprive him of his justice.
"Now, Sarah... you know that Ray is probably just hunting. You know how much he likes to chase those critters around. You just told me that you folks aren't having problems, so what reason would he have for not coming home? Listen to me, dear, I want you to try to relax. Just be calm, go to work, and I promise, everything will work out. We've been friends for a lot of years, haven't we, Sarah? Yes, hon.......... right… okay, well, you just hang in there, Luther will make it okay, are you listening to me? All right, you get some rest, and I'll see what I can find out. We'll talk soon, I promise... bye."
Luther dropped his boots, folded his hands in front of him, and closed his eyes. A wry smile now affixed his lips. Stage two could commence. There was no real sense of urgency. Silently, he choreographed the scenario in his mind. He reasoned that he needed to wait awhile, bide his time as it were, and think of foolproof ways to implement his plan. If anyone had seen Brenda and Ray together, there could be a problem, especially if they both disappeared at the same time. He had to be smart. Brenda was well liked in the community, her goody-goody attitude had always pissed him off. It wasn't bad enough that she got all the credit while he was out chasing bad guys, she had to compound it by waltzing off with Ray Michaud to this charity auction, or that Library Fund Walkathon... Well, no matter, good ol’ Luther would teach her about faith and fidelity. No one made him into a cuckold and lived to tell about it. No one.
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