Page 7 of Christmas Mittens Murder

“If you know the identity of the thief who stole that ring, then that person is already in a heap of trouble, so you might as well fess up now.”

Visions of being booked and fingerprinted by Officer Earl for obstruction of justice were undoubtedly swirling through Abby’s head, because Sergio did not have to press her any further into spilling the beans.

“I think it may have been Esther!” She let that hang in the air for a moment before dropping her head, defeated, consumed with guilt over ratting out her dear friend.

Sergio cocked an eyebrow. “Esther Willey?”

Abby nodded slightly before opening her purse and pulling out a tissue to dab at the tears pooling in her eyes and then blowing her nose.

Sergio waited for her to collect herself before he continued. “Did you actually see her take the ring?”

“Not exactly,” Abby sniffed. “But I did see her milling around the table with the display case, and she was clearly coveting it. At one point when Mr. Willoughby wasn’t looking, she took it out to try it on. But no, I did not see her physically put the ring in her pocket. Still, just moments later, I looked back and Esther was gone and Ed Willoughby was shouting to the rooftops that someone had stolen his ring! The whole thing just looked highly suspicious.”

“Do you believe that Esther is capable of theft?”

“I honestly don’t know. But I will say, of all of us in the knitting circle, she’s the one who is always borrowing things and never returning them, or buying a dress to wear to a party and taking it back to the shop the next day claiming it’s too small or too big, or pretending to find a bug in her salad in order to get away with a free meal.”

Hayley could corroborate that last point.

Esther had been with Doris Crimmons in her restaurant just a few weeks ago and complained that she had found a strand of hair in her fried calamari. Hayley had comped their entire meal.

“So she has a history of lying and cheating,” Sergio said matter-of-factly.

“No, I would not go that far. Esther is a good person. There is just, shall we say, a dark side to her personality.”

That was all Hayley needed to hear.

She made a beeline back downstairs to Liddy and Mona, who were impatiently waiting to be interviewed by Sergio next. “Have either of you seen Esther Willey?”

Liddy shook her head. “No, not for a while. Maybe she made her escape right before the cops got here.”

“No, I think I saw her huddling with Betty Dyer when Donnie and Earl were trying to get everybody to stay put,” Mona said.

Hayley glanced around the room.

There was no sign of Esther, but she did spot Helen Woodworth, now recovered from her dustup with Esther earlier, sitting in a corner furiously knitting a winter cap to keep herself measured and calm.

Hayley turned to Liddy and Mona. “Okay, we need to find her. It’s important. You two search the building. I’m going to go talk to Helen.”

Without waiting for them to respond, Hayley dashed over to Helen and hovered over her. “Helen?”

Helen willfully ignored Hayley, her knitting needles clicking and clicking against each other as she worked feverishly on her hat.

“Helen, have you seen Esther?”

“No,” Helen muttered, eyes intently fixed on her project.

“Is everything okay between the two of you?”

“Of course,” Helen growled. “Why would you ask me something like that?”

“Because I saw you arguing with her earlier, and I was just worried because you two have been close friends for so long.”

Helen finally raised her eyes to meet Hayley’s. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but Esther and I are fine. More than fine. We’re closer than ever. Now I would appreciate you leaving me in peace.”

Helen went back to staring at her incessantly clicking needles.

Hayley knew she was not going to get anything more out of Helen Woodworth, so she made the rounds chatting with the room full of locals who had been present at the time when Ed Willoughby’s ring had been pinched. Most claimed they had not even noticed Esther Willey at the Christmas bazaar; not surprising, since there was very little traffic around their gift basket table. But finally Betty Dyer’s grandson, who had been whining to his grandmother that he wanted to leave because he was hungry and wanted a pepperoni pizza, told Hayley that he thought he had seen Esther Willey leave the church out a side door that led to the exit upstairs shortly before the police had arrived. Hayley thanked him and scooted down the hall, out the side door and up the steps to the exit, which led to the church cemetery.

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