Christmas Waffle Caper (The Wicked Waffle Series Book 4) Read online




  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHRISTMAS WAFFLE CAPER

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  Christmas Waffle Caper

  A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy

  Book 4

  By

  Carolyn Q. Hunter

  Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Author’s Note: On the next page, you’ll find out how to access all of my books easily, as well as locate books by best-selling author, Summer Prescott. I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on – reader feedback is very important to me. Please see the following page for my publisher’s contact information. If you’d like to be on her list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc…just shoot her an email and let her know. Thanks for reading!

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  CHRISTMAS

  WAFFLE CAPER

  A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy

  Book 4

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  The night shifts were always the longest and the worst. Sora hated every single sound, smell, and feeling that came with being stuck at the Rocky Mountain Institute of the Mind so late. He’s always hated the name of the treatment center he worked for. Institute of the Mind implied some sort of learning, education, or schooling.

  In reality, the facility was little more than a glorified insane asylum.

  Tucked away in a secluded location of the mountains, the commute to and from the place was absolute torture, and the work itself was worse.

  Sitting in the reception area of the third floor, Sora had his coat wrapped around his body. During the winter months, the place felt like a freezer. It was as if the owner never even bothered paying the heating bill.

  Besides the single fluorescent fixture above the desk, the rest of the lights throughout the surrounding hallways and rooms were off, only adding to the desolate and frozen sensation that already existed in the stagnant walls. Of course, there was a cheery string of colored Christmas lights running along the edge of the desk, as well as a skinny little snip of a tree in the corner—all decked out with fake presents underneath—but not even that could take away from the chilly nature that was inherent to the building.

  The patients were spooky enough on their own, but the dark corners and strange noises echoing through the ancient building often sent chills up and down Sora’s spine. It was a wonder he’d never seen the wandering spirits of a few of the patients who’d up and croaked in their rooms on that floor.

  Even thinking about it made Sora jump. He’d see shadows, and be constantly looking over his shoulder for someone who wasn’t there. When he’d gotten into nursing and medical administration, this was far from what he’d expected his life to be.

  Lifting his arm, he checked his wristwatch.

  Time was closing in on seven in the evening, and the announcement of that night’s procession to the cafeteria for another round of grey unidentifiable meat would be underway soon.

  The patients, although many of them were completely bonkers, were trusted to find their way down to the cafeteria safely and quietly once the call was made. There was the occasional problem with a straggler who swore they’d found something hiding in the wall or a fight over who had the latest pen or another meaningless item.

  He hoped that tonight, on his last shift before he left for Christmas vacation with his wife, that there would be no incidents to slow things down. He simply wanted to finish out his duties as usual and drive safely home.

  Standing up from his desk, he headed over to the control panel on the wall. After unlocking the glass cover and pressing a little red button, a buzzer rang out through the hallways. “Mealtime,” he called out down the long corridor as the doors began to open.

  Residents started their evening shuffle, toward the cafeteria. If it weren’t for the assigned medications, another of Sora’s duties, none of them would be safe to even be outside of their rooms.

  Sora watched them go by, his eyes keeping track on anyone who might be a troublemaker that evening.

  Once the hallways had emptied, he began his round of room checks to make sure no stragglers had gotten left behind. He passed by several empty rooms until he reached the end.

  The final door sat partially ajar, and a bluish light filtered through. A few of the residents had gotten permission, given only by their specific doctors, to have a few Christmas decorations in their rooms. A quiet hum of Christmas music hummed from inside, coming from a little radio. As Sora remembered it, this particular patient had a string of blue lights and a small tree—courtesy of her family who wanted her to have a little “Christmas cheer” despite not being able to come home.

  With a sentiment like that, you’d think the family visited on a frequent basis. However, nothing of the kind ever happened. Ever since the young woman was committed, not a single friendly face had come around to say hello.

  It was always worse for the patients when they had no familial support, and despite disliking his job, Sora did care about the residents. After all, they were people with thoughts, feelings, and dreams.

  He felt lucky, he could go home for the holidays and be with his wife. These poor folks couldn’t even leave the building and walk the grounds without their doctor’s permission.

  Pushing the door farther open, he instantly saw that the young woman was crouched in the corner near the Christmas tree.

  “Come on Annabeth. It’s time for dinner.”

  The girl didn’t respond.

  “Annabeth, I know you heard me,” he spoke softly, but firmly.

  That’s when he noticed, all the lights were in a wad at her feet. She’d taken them off the tree—but why?

  “Annabeth, what are you doing?”

  Stepping closer, he went to place a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

  A quick as a gust of wind, she spun around and tossed the string of light around his neck.

  “What are you doing?” were the only words he could must
er before the string was pulled tight.

  Trained for this type of situation, he went to grab a hold of her arms and put her in a lock until more nurses could come. However, much to his surprise, no matter how he twisted and grabbed, she was as slippery as a sly fox.

  Soon, he began to struggle for air, his lungs burning.

  “A-Anna . . . let . . . me . . . go,” he managed to whisper, but it was no use.

  She kept a firm grip.

  Finally, as his vision started to blacken around him, he stumbled to the floor. Before completely losing consciousness, he watched her bare feet run down the hallway and disappear into the stairwell.

  CHAPTER 1

  * * *

  The snow was coming down hard outside the diner’s window, catching the red, green, and blue Christmas lights as they passed by. Sonja Reed was the last one in the building and was watching the weather from the kitchen, looking through the service window into the dining area. She hoped that the storm didn’t get much worse since she had a delivery to make on the other side of the lake before she could officially call it a night.

  The whole diner had been decked out for Christmas, both to capture the spirit of the season and to welcome in new patrons. The windows and all of the counters had been lined with colorful lights and matching garlands. The entryway was completely decked out with a full-blown Christmas tree, with an assortment of cute and adorable food related ornaments. Little glass burgers, French fries, donuts, and—of course—waffles all hung from the branches. The tree skirt was red and white checkers to match the tablecloths, and there were even some gifts underneath.

  The radio on the counter was at a low volume, but Sonja could still hear the sweet tones of classic Christmas carols such as Jingle Bells, The First Noel, and Here Comes Santa Claus. These things helped keep her feeling peaceful, despite the slippery drive she was potentially facing in a few moments.

  Working quickly to beat the storm, she popped open the waffle iron that had been sitting cooking her latest, and easily most popular, dish of the season.

  The combined scent of freshly baked batter and peppermint filled the air. This time, she’d made them into the small mini sized waffles, perfect for snacking at casual family gathers. The dish was made with her famous waffle batter base, with a hint of cinnamon, nutmeg, and a few drops of peppermint oil. Additionally, white chocolate peppermint chips were distributed evenly throughout the dish, providing delicious pockets of sweet goodness that could brighten up even the most scroogey of scrooges’ Christmas blues.

  Carefully using a fork, she moved the waffles into two separate to-go containers. Last but not least, she put a little plastic tub of her specialty Christmas drizzle in each box. The drizzle was also made using peppermint. It was a combination of sugar, milk, white chocolate, and candy canes melted down into a sweet pinkish delight.

  It was meant to be poured ever so lightly over the waffle.

  It was most positively one of the sweetest dishes Sonja had ever created, but when it came to Christmas, she felt it was only fitting to indulge a little.

  Wiping up a stray drop of sauce, she sucked on her finger and squeaked delightedly at the taste. She was glad she’d gone with the peppermint theme this year. She’d been experimenting since Halloween for the perfect specialty dish for the season, and it had been a toss-up between gingerbread and peppermint.

  While she loved the spicy taste of a good gingerbread cookie, she decided the classic sweet nature of peppermint—intrinsic to candy canes—was her winner. She could always do gingerbread another year.

  Shutting both to-go boxes, she picked them up and was about to walk out the back door to her van when a knock came on the glass door out front. Spinning on her heel, she peered through the service window and saw Frank, her boyfriend, waving at her.

  The music on the radio stopped abruptly and an announcer came on. “This is an emergency broadcast—” he began but didn’t get a chance to finish.

  Setting the boxes down, Sonja shut off the radio and ran through the kitchen doors into the dining area where she unlatched the entryway. “Frank, hi,” she exclaimed, all too happy to see him.

  She had to admit, she was getting a little lonely, and a little spooked even, being alone inside while it snowed.

  “Are you about ready to go?” he asked, stepping past the threshold and stomping the slush off his boots onto the Santa’s face on the welcome mat.

  “Go?” she asked, shutting the door to keep out the blistering cold.

  “Yeah, you know, Alison’s white elephant party?”

  Gasping, Sonja held up her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. Is that tonight?”

  “Unfortunately, so,” he chuckled, holding up his haphazardly wrapped gift.

  “I’ve been so caught up with work today, I’ve completely forgotten.” Ever since she and Frank had gotten engaged the month before, they’d been inundated with a series of invitations to parties and gatherings with other married people from around town. This year, Sonja’s best friend Alison was holding a couple’s only white elephant party. All her friends and their significant others were invited to bring some random and silly gift to trade.

  Eyeballing Frank’s little misshapen package, she wondered just what it was he’d picked out.

  “So, I’m guessing you don’t have anything to give,” he said.

  “I do, actually. I just didn’t get around to wrapping it yet. It’s out in the van.”

  “Ooh, can I see?” he asked.

  “No, that would be cheating.” She paused a moment, as she thought.

  “Just wrap it up in something and let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”

  “Actually, maybe you should see it.”

  “Really?”

  “And wrap it for me, if you are capable,” she teased, pointing at the mess in his hands.

  “Hey,” he defended himself jokingly, pulling his present away from her.

  “Also, I need you to call Ally and tell her I’m going to be a little late. I have a quick delivery to make.”

  “A delivery? But we’re supposed to be leaving now.”

  “I know, Frank, I know, but a customer is a customer. I’ll grab my present, and you can wrap it up and make the phone call while I run and do this delivery.”

  “Wait, now hold on, hold on. Are you saying I should go on ahead without you?”

  She nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “But this is a couples’ party, remember? I can’t just show up alone carrying two presents.”

  “Sure, you can, and you will,” she insisted, heading for the kitchen and the back door.

  Stepping out into the night, she ran across to the van, opened the side door, and pulled out the gift she’d bought just for the occasion. Dashing back inside (and silently giving thanks for the building's heater) she handed it to Frank.

  “What in the world is this?” he exclaimed, holding it up.

  “It’s a coffee mug in the shape of a toilet,” she replied, bursting into fits of laughter.

  Frank couldn’t help but laugh along as well.

  “Now, there is wrapping paper behind the Christmas tree over there. Just use some of that with the tape in my office.” She handed him her spare key. “Make sure to turn off the lights and lock up when you go.”

  “Where is this delivery?” he asked, stopping her before she could run off again.

  She swallowed, not wanting to tell him just how far it was. “Across the lake.”

  “Wait, you mean you have to take the ferry?”

  “Don’t worry. I can manage.”

  “But that’s almost a twenty-minute drive to any of the places over there—through rough terrain.”

  “I know, I know, but the sooner I leave, the sooner I can meet you at the party.” Grabbing her coat off the peg on the wall, she pulled it on.

  “I have a better idea. How about I drive you? You can wrap the toilet and call Ally in the truck.”

  Sonja raised an eyebr
ow. “The truck? What truck?”

  Frank’s smile widened. “We turned our old police cruisers in for four-wheel drive trucks. They’re much better for getting around in the mountains, especially during the winter.”

  “You didn’t tell me you guys were doing that.”

  “I know, I wanted to surprise you. I borrowed mine to take to the party tonight.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure Alison would be happy with both of us being so late.”

  “It’s Alison. She’s picky. She’s going to be unhappy if her best friend doesn’t show up with her fiancé.”

  Sonja tilted her head to one side. “I guess you’re right.”

  “And we’ll both be a lot safer if we take the truck.”

  After a moment of deliberation, she nodded. “Okay. You’ve got a deal, Buster.” Standing up on her tiptoes, she kissed him. Pulling on her red knit cap, a hue that matched her vibrant hair, she headed for the front door.

  CHAPTER 2

  * * *

  “So, what’s the address?” Frank asked as he started up the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Digging into her pocket, she retrieved her order pad.

  “Sort of old school. I like that,” he laughed, pointing at the pad in her hands.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I love my computer, but it’s easier to take orders and keep them organized this way. If they were all on the computer, I’d be afraid I’d forget something or someone.”

  “Sometimes, I think you’re an older woman in a young body,” he joked.

  Sonja rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

  “Trust me, it’s a compliment. Most women in your age demographic—”

  “You mean, those darn young’ins?” she teased, using a fake old lady voice.

  “I’m serious. Most other women I’ve dated always end up caring more about their most recent social media update, the latest smartphone, or just taking pictures of their make-up and hair. It was like they’d rather do that than actually sit and have a conversation with me over dinner.”

 

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