Page 5 of Christmas Mittens Murder

Liddy sighed loudly. “Great. Just great. I had two holiday parties I was going to go drop in on tonight, and one of them was at the home of Ethan Brandt, that studly single lawyer who just moved to town, and now I’m going to miss out! Why do these things always happen to me?”

“Technically this did not happen to you, Liddy. Ed Willoughby is actually the victim here,” Hayley reminded her.

“Oh, please. I’m sure that rock was insured!” Liddy snapped. “But I still don’t have a date for the New Year’s Eve extravaganza at the Atlantic Oakes Hotel, and I was hoping Ethan might ask me to accompany him at his party tonight. But now that’s never going to happen, is it? Because I’m stuck here. So yes, Hayley, I am a victim, too!”

Hayley decided it was probably wise not to argue with her further at this point.

Mona just shook her head and turned to Hayley. “Sometimes I think she knows how ridiculous she sounds but she keeps on running her mouth just to screw with us.”

“FYI, Mona, I can hear you. I am standing right here!” Liddy snapped.

“Good! You need to know how silly you act sometimes!” Mona yelled.

Hayley stepped between them. “Come on, you two, relax, will you? I know this is a huge imposition, but staying put and allowing Sergio to do his job is the right thing to do. Besides, it’s Christmas. ’Tis the season to be jolly.”

“Jolly? People with big bellies are jolly, Hayley. I lost seventeen pounds on Nutrisystem this year. If anyone is jolly here—”

Mona held a finger up to Liddy’s lips. “I would advise you to stop right there, Liddy. I wouldn’t want you to be cancelled for fat-shaming me!”

Liddy finally took Mona’s words to heart and wisely kept her mouth shut.

Hayley glanced around the room. Liddy and Mona were not the only ones on edge. Everyone appeared restless and unnerved, especially Rosana Moretti, the wife of Hayley’s old boss Sal Moretti, editor-in-chief at the local paper, the Island Times. Rosana stood off in a corner flanked by three women, all of whom Hayley recognized as members of Rosana’s own knitting circle, the Happy Hookers. Rosana, who normally was very sweet and unobtrusive, some might even describe her as mousy, was in a state of distress as her friends buzzed around her trying to comfort her. Hayley wondered what was bothering her so much, but she did not have to wait long to find out, because just as Chief Sergio finished speaking with Ed Willoughby and turned to confer with Reverend Ted, who was hovering directly behind him, Rosana let loose her bottled up rage, spewing, “Hey, Chief Alvares, if you want to know who swiped that ring, just ask Helen Woodworth!”

Helen, who had returned to the basement and was huddling with some of her own knitting circle, the Crochet Mafia, including Betty Dyer, Doris Crimmons and Abby Weston, balked. “I have no clue what you are talking about, Rosana!”

Rosana pointed an accusing finger at the ladies across the room. “Helen, Betty, Esther, Abby, Doris, they’re all liars and cheats and thieves! The whole lot of them!”

Rosana’s group nodded in full agreement.

The rest of the crowd in the church basement watched with rapt attention.

“If you have proof we have done something wrong, then why don’t you just present your evidence to the chief?” Helen challenged her.

Sergio hustled over to insert himself between the two warring factions before a rumble broke out like the Jets and the Sharks in a geriatric all-female version of West Side Story. “Ladies, please, why don’t we just bring down the temperature here a little bit and stop hurling wild accusations without any evidence to back it up?”

“I’ve got plenty of evidence! And a witness!” Rosana cried.

Sergio was suddenly interested. “Go on, Rosana. I’m listening.”

“Our knitting circle way back in June decided that all our members would knit fifty pairs of Christmas mittens for the church bazaar raffle this year. I told everyone to keep it under wraps, but Binki Welles, one of our members, was in St. Petersburg, Florida, when we had our meeting, so I brought her up to speed when we were having our hair done next to each other at Roberto’s salon after she got back. Well, Shirley, the shampoo girl, told me she noticed Helen two dryers down eavesdropping on our conversation.”

“Shirley the shampoo girl? That’s your witness?” Sergio asked with a withering look.

“Yes!” Rosana huffed. “Well, I didn’t think much of it at the time because I am not a suspicious person by nature, and I usually choose to see the good in people. So imagine my surprise when I got wind of the fact that Helen’s group was suddenly on course to knit seventy-five pairs of Christmas mittens for the bazaar! It was painfully obvious that she had stolen my idea! We had to change course at the last minute and make scarves instead!”

“You can never have too many Christmas mittens,” Hayley interjected, suspecting the comment would land with a thud and have little effect. Which it did.

“You’re deluded if you think I could hear anything you said under that dryer at the salon, Rosana!” Helen roared.

“Who knows? Maybe you can lip-read!” Rosana replied.

Helen bristled. “Shirley doesn’t know what she’s talking about! And to think I always tip her so generously. I will tell you one thing, she’s never getting another hard-earned penny out of me!”

“Stop blaming Shirley! You know what you did!” Rosana cried.

Helen took a long, deep, slow breath, as if trying to collect herself, and then, eyes narrowing, growled to Rosana, “You listen to me, Rosana Moretti, I came up with the mitten idea completely on my own. Maybe you were the one who tried stealing it from me!”

“That’s absurd!” Rosana scoffed.

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