Page 3 of Christmas Mittens Murder

The great Congregational church Christmas Bazaar Gift Basket competition turned out to be not much of a contest after all. Just as Hayley feared, Randy’s impressive holiday basket boasting a wide variety of very pricey spirits won in a walk. No one was particularly surprised to see a large crowd hovering around Randy’s prize, eagerly stuffing their raffle tickets into the bowl next to it until it was overflowing and tickets were falling onto the floor.

Reverend Ted dashed off to find another bowl for people to use to vie for the Holiday Cheer package. Luckily Hayley, Mona and Liddy were all doing brisk business as well, just not nearly as much as Randy. Still, the dozens of attendees did spread enough tickets around on the other baskets to not make it completely embarrassing.

That is, with the exception of the deserted table in the far corner of the church basement that featured the donations of Helen Woodworth’s knitting circle. All five members—Helen, Abby Weston, Esther Willey, Betty Dyer and Doris Crimmons—had put together their own gift baskets with personally knitted items they had all made over the past year such as mittens, scarves, and hats. Doris was even offering an afghan blanket that had taken her eight months to complete. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, nobody seemed particularly interested in wasting their valuable raffle tickets on any of them, and Hayley could see Helen and her group fuming in silence as most people passed them by.

Then Reverend Ted made the faux pas of asking Helen if she and Abby could use the same bowl to collect tickets and they would just draw from it twice, once for each of their baskets.

A miffed Helen barked, “Why do you need my bowl?”

Reverend Ted nervously glanced at the less than a dozen tickets lying on the bottom of Helen’s bowl. He cleared his throat. “It’s just that Randy’s bowl is completely full and people are starting to get antsy waiting to add their raffle tickets, so I thought I would just borrow yours until I can dig up something that will hold all those tickets for the drawing!”

“I’m surprised, as a Man of God, you would even allow him to offer a basket stuffed with bottles of alcohol!” Helen sniffed.

“Come on, Helen, even Jesus drank wine!” Mona yelled from across the room.

“Mona, that’s probably not helping,” Hayley admonished.

Helen chose to ignore Mona’s snide remark and kept her blazing eyes squarely focused on poor Reverend Ted, who had not yet dared pour the tickets into Helen’s bowl out of fear that she might pop him one in the nose.

Reverend Ted set Helen’s fishbowl gently back down on the card table next to her basket of knitted goodies. “I’m sorry, Helen, you’re right. I will find another solution. You hang on to your bowl. No sense in anyone getting upset. This is supposed to be a joyous day of giving.”

“I just don’t understand why those flashier baskets are more popular than the old-fashioned ones like ours that our families have been donating to the church Christmas bazaar for generations. Don’t these people have a sense of history and tradition? Frankly, if you ask me, the booze, the lobster, the facial scrubs, they’re all just trying too hard! ”

“Actually no one asked you, Helen!” Mona couldn’t resist cracking before Hayley nudged her in the rib.

Helen’s face flushed with anger and she turned her head away from Mona to complain to her knitting circle as Reverend Ted dashed away to the kitchen to find a giant serving bowl that was big enough for all the raffle tickets Randy was currently raking in.

“Reverend Ted looks a little frazzled. Maybe I’ll go see if he needs help. Can you two keep an eye on things here?” Hayley asked Liddy and Mona.

“Sure,” Liddy said. “But hurry back. I have been on my feet all day, and if I don’t get a cocktail soon, I’m going to have to conduct a secret raid on Randy’s basket when he’s not looking.”

Hayley smiled and headed off toward Reverend Ted, who had been stopped on his way to the kitchen in the church basement by Scooter Beauchemin, bald with a graying goatee, a wealthy New York hedge-fund manager who had recently moved from Manhattan to Maine with his gorgeous wife Tawny for a simpler, quieter life.

Hayley stopped short of interrupting them but was close enough to overhear their conversation. Reverend Ted was staring at a piece of paper Scooter had just handed him. His eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets.

“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally write too many zeroes on this check?” Reverend Ted gasped.

Scooter threw him a self-satisfied grin. “No, that’s the correct amount. What can I say, I had a good year.”

“I’m not sure we have enough raffle tickets to sell you.”

Scooter chuckled. “I’m not interested in taking home any gift baskets. Tawny and I have everything we need. I want that money to go directly to the church programs.”

“This is beyond generous, Mr. Beauchemin. You can’t imagine the good this will do,” Reverend Ted gushed, his eyes still glued to the massive amount scribbled on the check.

“Well, I know there are a lot of disadvantaged kids on the island, and I simply want to make sure they all have a very merry Christmas.”

Tawny suddenly appeared at his side, handing him a glass of white wine. He gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek, which caused her to blush. “We both do.”

“I can’t thank you enough. And the kids thank you,” Reverend Ted said, beaming.

Scooter nodded, and Tawny offered a wan smile as they wandered off to mingle with a few locals. Reverend Ted folded the check and stuffed it into the breast pocket of his LL Bean flannel shirt, and then continued on toward the kitchen before Hayley managed to stop him. “Reverend Ted, you seem to be out straight, so I was just wondering if I could offer you a helping hand?”

A big happy grin spread across his face as he patted his breast pocket with the palm of his hand. “Not anymore. But thanks anyway, Hayley.”

And off he went.

Hayley shrugged and then spun around to return to Liddy and Mona when she noticed in the hallway off the main room Helen Woodworth and her fellow knitting circle member Esther Willey having a serious, intense, heated conversation. Esther was wagging a finger in Helen’s face, spewing out angry words, her face as red as a beetroot, as Helen tried standing her ground but seemed overwhelmed by Esther’s tirade. She shrank away the more Esther forcefully confronted her. Then, unable to take any more, tears streaming down both cheeks, Helen bolted away from Esther and out a side door. Esther watched her go, fuming.

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