Page 19 of Christmas Mittens Murder
Hayley jumped out of her car and sauntered over to him.
“How’s it going, Woody?”
He gave her a flirty wink. “Better now that you’re here.”
Oh God.
This was par for the course with Woody, who had the mistaken impression that he was God’s gift to women.
“Maybe you and me can take one of the boats out and have ourselves a cozy little picnic in the bay, just the two of us.”
“I’m married.”
“So am I,” he cackled, tossing her another suggestive wink.
Gross, Hayley thought.
Woody gave her a lascivious smile. “Still waiting for an answer.”
“Hmmm. Let me think about it. No.”
“By the way, you can tell that brother-in-law of yours that I still got a beef with him. He kept us at that church so long firing questions at us, I didn’t get home to see Saturday’s Patriots game until almost halftime.”
“What’s the big deal? They lost. Badly.”
“Don’t matter. Win or lose. I never miss a game. So now he’s in the doghouse as far as I’m concerned.”
“You can tell him yourself. I’m sure he’ll be coming around to see you real soon.”
Woody took a long drag on his cigarette and eyed her curiously. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m guessing sooner rather than later he’s going to find out that you were fooling around with Esther Willey before she ended up dead in the church cemetery. And I’m also guessing you probably did not share that juicy little tidbit with the chief when he was keeping you from your football game.”
Woody dropped his cigarette into the gravel and snuffed it out with the heel of his boot. “Now wait a minute, Hayley, how did you hear—? Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter. But word is spreading fast. So you might want to buckle up.”
Woody no longer appeared so smarmy and self-assured.
He was downright scared.
Hayley sniffed the air. “Is that fear I smell?”
She could tell he was spiraling into a state of panic. “Hayley, please tell me you didn’t spill the beans to Helen, because I can’t afford that kind of drama right now . . .”
“I didn’t have to tell Helen anything. She already knows all about it.”
The blood drained from his face as he croaked out a barely audible “What?”
“You can relax, Woody. Your wife could not care less. According to her, you’re free to do as you please.”
Woody’s mouth dropped open. “She actually said that?”
Hayley nodded.
“I don’t know if I should feel relieved or insulted.”
“Maybe a smidgen of shame might be appropriate in this particular situation.”
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