Doris cackled. “I do remember you being so mad that when Bud keeled over from that stroke, I said to myself, ‘Maybe Betty slipped something into his Mountain Dew,’ which he was always drinking.”
Betty’s eyes bulged out. “I did not kill Bud! Why is everyone suddenly ganging up on me?”
Helen sighed. “Betty, stop being so paranoid.”
“Helen’s right,” Abby said. “Bud had a stroke because he weighed over three hundred pounds and could never diet. He would always chase the diet pills he was taking with a Twinkie.”
There was a palpable tension in the air, mostly coming from Betty, who always despised being the center of attention.
“I’m sorry, I fear my presence here is keeping everyone on edge. Maybe I should come by another time,” Hayley said.
“Nonsense, Hayley, you are welcome to stay as long as you want. I even have an extra pair of knitting needles you can use if you want to help with the quilt,” Helen said.
“No, Doris is right,” Hayley said. “You should all have some time to grieve. I will swing by in a couple of weeks. It would be an honor to contribute a section of the quilt. It’s going to be beautiful.”
She eased out of the living room and headed to the door. Behind her, she heard Abby say, “I left some yarn I need out in my car. I’ll be right back.”
Hayley had just stepped onto the front porch of Helen Woodworth’s house when Abby followed her out and shut the door behind her so they had some privacy.
“Hayley, wait,” Abby whispered. “I have something to tell you.”
“Of course, Abby, what is it?”
“I don’t think it was Betty.”
“Good. Neither do I.”
“It wasn’t Betty because . . .” She paused, looked back at the door to make sure no one had cracked it open to eavesdrop. “Because someone else in the group had a much stronger motive for wanting to see Esther dead.”
Hayley snapped to attention. “Who?”
Abby lowered her voice again to a barely audible whisper. “Helen.”
“Helen?” Hayley found herself almost yelling.
Abby put a finger to her lips. “Shhhh. Helen would kill me if she knew I was telling you this. Of course, I mean that figuratively.” Abby thought about it. “But then again, if Helen did knock off poor Esther, I guess I could mean it literally.”
“Abby, tell me, why Helen?”
She leaned in closer to Hayley. “Esther once admitted to me that she was having an affair with a married man. Well, Esther was always joking and telling stories, so I didn’t put much stock in it. But then, one of my students at Emerson Conners, who lives next door to Esther, claimed he saw Woody Woodworth sneaking into Esther’s house late one night when he was using his telescope to look up at the constellations. Of course, the kid’s a regular Peeping Tom, always spying on people, so I don’t buy the whole looking at the stars story, but honestly, why would the boy make up something like that?”
It was a doozy of a rumor.
If it was indeed true.
“Did Helen know?” Hayley asked.
“No. She was totally in the dark until recently. But then I heard she found lipstick on Woody’s collar. It was raspberry glaze. Esther’s favorite color. You know she had such thin lips so she was very particular about her lipstick.”
Hayley swallowed hard.
If Abby had her facts straight, then Helen Woodworth was Hayley’s first major suspect.
And it would explain why Helen fled the church basement in tears after exchanging terse words with Esther Willey at the Christmas bazaar.
Chapter Eight
“Helen! So nice to see you!” Hayley chirped as she strolled into the Christmas Vacation Shop, which sold a wide variety of holiday decorations nearly year-round, to find Helen Woodworth perusing a shelf full of tree ornaments. Hayley glanced over at the clerk behind the register. “Hi, Debbie, happy holidays!”