Hole-In-One Waffle (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 17) Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  HOLE IN ONE WAFFLE

  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

  CHAPTER 17

  Hole-In-One

  Waffle

  Book Seventeen

  in

  The Diner of the Dead Series

  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.

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  HOLE-IN-ONE

  WAFFLE

  Book Seventeen in The Diner of the Dead Series

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  Dustin Port grumbled underneath his breath as he looked at the quickly darkening sky. The sun threatened him with its last pinkish rays along the clouded mountain skyline. He still had two more holes to go and wasn’t about to stop now, no matter how late it got.

  Adjusting the brace over his right leg, he lugged himself back into the golf cart and turned on the ignition. He groaned at the ache as he moved. His doctor had instructed him to use a cane, but he had no interest in succumbing to old age quite yet.

  He refused to be licked.

  He longed for the days when he could move around freely, walk the golf course instead of just riding along. If it hadn’t been for the car accident nearly thirteen years ago that hurt his leg, he would have never allowed himself to get into such a poor condition. Any self-respecting professional sportsman wouldn’t even consider it. A healthy diet, exercise, constant activity, and a good attitude—these were the things that kept you active

  Unfortunately, his injury had taken him out of the professional golf circuit for good. None of his usual sponsors wanted to get behind a man who could hardly hold a normal putting stance for more than a few seconds without needing to rest his leg.

  It had been one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

  Worse yet, his best friend and golf partner had died as a result of injuries from the crash. Ronin Calhoun was one of the best men that ever lived and an even a better golfer than Dustin. The accident that had wounded Dustin’s leg had also done serious damage to Ronin’s heart.

  The doctors had managed to save him, but not his ability to enjoy life. After almost three years of recovery, both of them had felt strong enough to get out on the golf course together—even if it wasn’t professionally.

  At least they could play a game together and reminisce about the good old days.

  Sadly, they were both robbed even of that. It was somewhere on the fifth hole that Ronin had collapsed, his heart finally giving out.

  Watching the sun completely disappear behind the shade of the mountain, Dustin reminisced on the times he’d had with his friend. That had been nearly ten years ago.

  This last week was the first time since Ronin’s death that Dustin had gone back out on the course.

  He needed to practice up and dust off his skills before the town-wide Father’s Day Charity Tournament on Sunday. He was determined to redeem himself and prove that he still had it in him by getting the best score of anyone in Haunted Falls.

  So far, things were looking up. He was doing well, all things considered, and he really felt that if he just practiced a bit more he could show his stuff.

  Driving along the shadowy green, he passed a sand trap surrounded by a thicket of trees before coming to the head of the seventeenth hole.

  Climbing down, he grabbed his favorite iron and prepared to make his move.

  Bending down slightly, and feeling the strain in his leg, he managed to shakily place the ball on the golf tee. Slowly, painfully, he got into the stance to hit the ball. He had learned to compensate where his leg couldn’t hold him.

  Rearing back, he swung hard, knocking the ball sailing.

  The little white speck was difficult to see in the dim light of the rising moon, but it looked like it was going a good distance.

  At least, that’s what Dustin had assumed.

  A hard tap on his shoe drew his attention and, glancing down, he saw his ball sitting right back at his feet. “What in the heck?” he whispered. How was that possible? He realized he must have been mistaken. He hadn’t hit the ball off into the distance, he had to have accidentally hit it straight up in the air where it then came falling back down at his feet.

  Shrugging, he carefully pushed the ball back onto the tee, got into his own stance, and swung again. The ball shot forward in the air like a bullet, and Dustin watched, expecting it to keep going.

  However, to his great astonishment, the little white ball seemed to stop midair, hang there for a second, and then come flying back toward him, again landing at his feet.

  “What is going on?” he grumbled

  Reaching down to grab his ball, it rolled away from his hand. He blinked a few times, feeling confused. Maybe he was just tired, or maybe it was just the wind.

  He paused, listening. No, there wasn’t even the hint of a breeze.

  Trying to grab it again, the ball continued to roll away.

  Instantly, he felt a shiver run down his spine. “No way,” he whispered.

  Right before his eyes, the ball floated up from the grass, bobbed a few times in the air, and then shot off into the nearby sand trap with a thud.

  “T-that’s enough practice for one night,” he whispered to himself, getting into the cart as quickly as his stiff body allowed and driving off toward the clubhouse.

  Among the trees in the sand trap, somebody giggled delightedly.

  CHAPTER 1

  * * *

  Sonja felt a little self
-conscious as she pulled her lumbering white catering van into the parking lot of the Haunted Falls Society Club. Compared to her clunker of a vehicle, every other car in the lot was practically brand new—and expensive looking to boot.

  Despite being a relatively small town, there were still spots around the little valley that Sonja had never been to. The Society Clubhouse and the accompanying golf course was one such place. She’d seen the green fields from a distance while driving on the main roads that passed by the large area along Clubhouse Lane.

  The drive down toward the club was through a peaceful grove of trees perfectly planted in order. The slightly more affluent members of the local Rocky Mountain area often held social parties and events at the clubhouse, while the men were often seen gracing the golf course for a leisurely afternoon game.

  It was odd that some people, living right in the same community, led such different lives from her. While there wasn’t anything wrong with it, Sonja surely didn’t understand the appeal.

  The only reason she was there now, parking her van as far away from the rest of the cars as possible, was because she had a meeting with the club’s president, Mr. Paxton Manning. The club was putting on a charity event for Father’s Day and they wanted The Waffle Diner and Eatery to cater the event.

  Glancing at the grand building across the parking lot, Sonja was beginning to feel that she was not quite the right fit for this job, and assumed Mr. Manning would be better off hiring someone with a little more “class.”

  Still, she would meet with the club president and see what he had to say. She was curious as to why he picked her little roadside diner over a fancier establishment.

  Sonja wanted Alison, her best friend, and business partner, to come along to the meeting—but one of them had to stay behind and manage the diner that morning.

  So, it fell to Sonja to go to the meeting alone.

  Her heart beat nervously in her chest as she approached the glass doors of the enormous two-story building. The structure consisted of a square center portion and then had two wings extending from the sides like long outreaching arms. White pillars marked the front of the building, holding up the awning where people could pull up and get out, in order to have a valet park their car for them.

  Sonja hadn’t even bothered doing that, not wanting to feel the judging gaze of the valet at her vehicle.

  It was bad enough that she hadn’t dressed up, she realized, looking down at her denim shorts and pink t-shirt she had thrown on that morning. Why hadn’t she thought of at least putting on a skirt and blouse or something?

  She took a second to check her reflection in the glass, making sure her hair wasn’t too unmanageable and that her lipstick was on straight.

  “Okay,” she whispered, stepping through the entryway.

  Walking into the lobby, a gasp caught in her throat in awe. Glossy hardwood floors stretched out beneath her feet, accompanied by long maroon rugs with gold patterns. The walls were made of dark brown wood and matching curtains hung over the large floor to ceiling windows, which were pulled back to let in the sunlight. A crystal chandelier hung from the high decorative ceiling only adding more illumination to the room’s beauty.

  She was so enamored with the decoration scheme, that she almost didn’t see the man walking toward her.

  “Woah,” she exclaimed, dodging out of the way just in time. A set of golf clubs sticking out of a bag, one with a red bandana tied on the end of it, nearly clipped her face.,

  “Sorry, I almost didn’t see you standing there,” the short man apologized.

  Looking at him, Sonja realized that he must be a caddy based on his uniform. His nametag was labeled Bill R. He was small with blonde hair and a babyish face. However, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes showed that he was probably in his early thirties.

  The bag of clubs looked far too large and heavy for his small frame.

  “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been standing there staring at the ceiling,” Sonja admitted.

  “Yeah, this place is amazing, isn’t it?” He shifted the weight of the bag on his back.

  Glancing up at the magnificent chandelier again, she had to agree. “It is.”

  “First time here?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m meeting with Mr. Manning.”

  “Oh, yes. You must be the diner owner.”

  “That’s right,” she smiled back at him. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged sheepishly. “I’m his caddy.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “I can show you to his office if you like.”

  “That would be wonderful.” She was glad to have someone show her the way. At least she wouldn’t be wandering the hallways absentmindedly like a kid on her first day of school.

  He moved toward a nearby staircase situated on the left side of the room. As he began to climb, his breathing grew more intense. “You know,” he said between strained breaths, “I might just be a caddy now, but someday I’m going to be a member here.”

  “You are?” Sonja asked.

  “Yeah, my dad and my grandpa were both members when they were alive. It’s a family heritage.”

  “That sounds nice,” she responded, not really relating to the situation. She supposed it was like how she had inherited her father’s paranormal ability to see ghosts. “So, do you get accepted just because of family, here?”

  Reaching the top of the stairs, he led her down a hallway. “Well, actually, it’s a little more complex. The board members review your file, they look over a number of aspects relating to your family, money, social involvement, stuff like that, and then they decide if you’re in or not.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway, I’m just paying my dues until then,” he said, nodding toward the heavy bag with a grin.

  “Does everyone who joins have to do that?”

  “Some do,” he responded, pausing at a cross in the hall. “Here’s where I leave you. I’ve got to put these back in the secure closet for Mr. Manning.” He pointed the opposite direction of where he was heading. “His office is just down there. Last door at the end.”

  “Thanks,” she said, watching him head off.

  Deciding she just didn’t understand the appeal of joining a club like this one, she turned and headed down the hallway toward the door at the end.

  Honestly, it seemed like the club had too many rules.

  CHAPTER 2

  * * *

  Nearing the end of the hallway where a large door stood partially ajar, she paused upon hearing voices arguing inside.

  “I’m just telling you what I saw, Paxton. I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” a man said in a gravelly voice.

  “Of course, not. I would never assume you’d lie, Dusty.”

  “Don’t call me Dusty. You know I hate it,” he groaned.

  “My apologies, my friend. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Well, stop using it. And we aren’t friends. Just because you’re the president here doesn’t make us so.”

  There was a low tisking noise like a parent scolding a child—most likely from Mr. Manning, Sonja decided. “You hurt my feelings, Dustin. We’ve known each other for many years and I’ve been here to support you through the thick and thin.”

  “Is that so?”

  “After your accident, who was there for you?”

  “You? Yeah, right.”

  Realizing she had intruded on a private conversation, Sonja moved away from the door, but the next thing she heard made her stop in place.

  “All I wanted to tell you is that the golf course is haunted.”

  Instantly, her ears perked up.

  Another haunting? That was the third in only a few weeks.

  Sonja had the ability to communicate with ghosts. This strange paranormal power had come in handy on multiple occasions in helping her boyfriend, Sheriff Frank Thompson, solve murders around the small mountain town of Haunted Falls.

  Lately, it seemed like more and more residents o
f the small community had become targets for ghosts and other supernatural entities.

  Stepping close to the door, she pressed her ear to the crack.

  “Look, Dusty, I’ll have a look at some of the security footage from last night if it makes you feel any better.”

  “I don’t care what you do. I was just warning you,” he shot back.

  “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “Forget I told you anything,” Dustin muttered. “I’ve got some practicing to do.” There was a shuffling sound of someone struggling to get up.

  “By the way, what were you doing out on the course so late last night, anyway?”

  “The same thing I’ve been doing all morning. Practicing.”

  “Well, don’t try too hard to force yourself back into shape. I don’t want the same thing happening to you that happened to Ronin.”

  “Don’t you dare bring Ronin into this.”

  “All I’m saying is, you’re an honored member of this club. We appreciate your participation and monetary support for the Father’s Day Charity Tournament, but I don’t want you pushing yourself so hard.”

  “You mean, you don’t want a scene on the golf course if I decide to keel over.”

  “Now that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? You don’t have to prove yourself to me or to anyone else. We all know you played professionally and were darn good in your time,” Mr. Manning paused slightly, “but nobody expects you to get the best score. It’s just the facts of life.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this,” Dustin snapped, his voice getting closer.

  Sonja instinctively took a few steps back just as the door swung open. The older man, leaning heavily on the doorframe for support, stopped suddenly when he came face to face with the eavesdropping woman.

  “Excuse me.” Pushing roughly past her, he hobbled down the hall.

  Sonja watched him go, wondering what exactly she had just witnessed.