Spooky Sweetheart Waffle: Book 9 in The Diner of the Dead Series
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SPOOKY SWEETHEART 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
CHAPTER 18
Spooky
Sweetheart
Waffle
Book Nine
in the
Diner of the Dead Series
By
Carolyn Q. Hunter
Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books
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SPOOKY SWEETHEART
WAFFLE
Book Nine in the Diner of the Dead Series
PROLOGUE
* * *
“Don’t worry, Hayden. I’ll be there.” Carson Pool spoke into his cellphone, reassuring his best friend that he would be available later that evening for their weekly poker game. It was only five in the morning, but Carson had already driven his company issued truck off the lot and onto the snowy road. The bright green logo of a tree along with the company name, “Clean Mountain Sanitation,” was painted on the back of the truck.
“Make sure to bring your game face to the table,” he playfully taunted his friend, “because tonight I’m not backing down.”
“Well, we’ll have to see about that,” Hayden bantered. “Let’s see if the best garbage man in town can beat the best electrical technician in town.”
“Sanitation specialist,” Carson corrected, half a smile still on his face.
“Right, right,” Hayden snickered, aware that his friend disliked being called a garbage man. Luckily, Carson humored him when he did. “I’ll try to keep that in mind for later tonight, but you know I have a bad memory.”
“Well, if you could just remember what cards are in your own hand, maybe you’ll actually win a round or two,” he retorted.
The two went back and forth like that for a while, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.
Carson Pool was a familiar face in Haunted Falls, Colorado, having overseen the same garbage route each week for the past thirty years. Greeting the same town’s residents every day, he was easily one of the most well-loved facets of the mountain community.
His best friend, Hayden Dockers, was almost as equally known and respected throughout their small region of the Rockies. Hayden was best known for his skill in fixing and maintaining industrial electrical systems in historic buildings—but he was never against taking on a small fix in someone’s home.
“Oh, I almost forgot to mention,” Hayden mentioned, “We’re having a special guest at the table tonight.”
“A special guest?” Carson questioned his friend. Looking both ways on a deserted street, he headed for his first stop that morning, The Waffle Diner and Eatery. “No one told me about anyone extra at our game this week.”
“It was sort of last minute,” Hayden admitted. “Besides, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”
“You know we don’t accept new people at the table without consulting the whole group,” he argued.
Hayden laughed quietly to himself.
“Is there something I don’t know?” Carson wracked his brain, attempting to figure out who this mystery guest was.
“You’ll never guess,” Hayden teased, stringing his friend along. “It’s someone who is visiting town and he’ll only be here this week.”
“I have no idea.”
“Come on. He’s an old friend of ours.”
“I told you, I don’t know, and you know I hate guessing games,” Carson snapped lightly.
“Alright, alright,” Hayden finally gave in. “It’s Johnny Wales.”
“Johnny Wales?” Carson guffawed excitedly, slapping his knee. “Why, I haven’t seen that prissy excuse for a poker player since we all volunteered together. What’s it been? Seven years?”
“Yep. Seven,” Hayden excitedly agreed.
“Well, I’ll be glad to see him,” he energetically added, nearing the back lot behind the diner. “I’m at my first stop, so I’m going to hang up.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
CHAPTER 1
* * *
It was the perfect waffle, Sonja decided, just right for the upcoming Valentine’s Day dance. Standing in her mother’s kitchen, she reread the recipe she had written out the night before—a list of ingredients and instructions scribbled out in her own poor penmanship.
Sonja’s local business, The Waffle Diner and Eatery, was really taking off, and patrons were always craving her newest creation. It thrilled Sonja to see so many people enjoying her baking and cooking, and on days when she had a new waffle coming out, there was always a small group of regulars waiting outside just to try it.
Sonja smiled as she imagined them standing out there on a cold morning, just waiting for a taste. This time, however, anyone who wanted to be first in line to try her latest waffle would have to attend a special event.
The small Rocky Mountain town of Haunted Falls was in an uproar over this year’s Valentine’s Day celebration. Belinda Smith, the richest woman in town, and a close friend of Sonja’s, was hosting a Valentine’s dance in the ballroom at her mansion.
This was going to be Sonja’s fourth catering gig since she opened the diner and the largest one to date. The diner owner was happy to notice that her little restaurant was growing somewhat successful in the catering department.
Originally, she had no intention of doing any type of catering, and didn’t want to overcomplicate things by adding in a whole other branch to her business. She loved cooking great foods and serving them t
o family and friends at the diner, plain and simple.
However, after multiple fans of the restaurant asked her to cater various events around Haunted Falls, she couldn’t help but embrace the new element of her business.
This meant hiring more people to help run the diner while she and her business partner and best friend, Alison, went off to catering gigs. Still figuring out the logistics of the whole thing, Sonja was trying to enjoy the journey. Once she had a specific routine in place, and a designated contact form to request catering services, she was sure things would smooth out.
For the time being, however, she couldn’t help but be excited. The ambitious redhead could hardly wait for the dance on Tuesday night and was certain her boyfriend would ask her to attend.
Folding up the recipe, Sonja slipped the paper into her purse and headed for the door just as her mother came shuffling into the room.
“Morning, Mom,” she greeted the older woman with a glowing smile.
“Hi, hon,” Diane mumbled, pouring herself a cup of fresh coffee which her daughter had brewed only minutes before.
“Any exciting plans for today?” Sonja pressed, deciding to take a moment to see how her mother was doing.
“Drink coffee? Read my new book?” she replied half-heartedly, waving her strawberry patterned mug in front of her.
Diane Reed was always in the worst shape around Valentine’s Day. For Sonja’s mother, the celebration of love and romance was nothing more than a reminder of the husband and father that had walked out, seemingly without warning or reason, almost five years prior.
While Sonja was just as hurt by her father’s action, her mother seemed to take it the hardest. When Valentine’s Day rolled around each year, Sonja grew extra worried and extra vigilant about her mother.
“Why not get outside for a while? Take a walk?” the concerned daughter offered a few options.
“Too cold, dear,” she replied, taking a deep sip of the dark brew.
Folding her arms and leaning against the counter, Sonja gave her mother a stern look. “Mom, you can’t keep sitting around here all day reading romance novels.”
The older woman shrugged, sitting at the kitchen table. “Why not? I enjoy them. They take my mind off things.”
Somehow, Sonja doubted that. If anything, the novels were an acute reminder of what she had lost.
“Well, you don’t need to go outside. Maybe you could do some cleaning around the house, or do some of your crafts. You haven’t painted or knitted in a while.”
“No,” she retorted flatly.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee as well, Sonja took a seat across from her mother. “It doesn’t do you any good to sit around the house and feel sad.” She pointed out, sipping from her mug.
“I’m fine, dear. Really.” Looking her daughter in the eye, Diane forced a smile.
Sonja sighed. When her mother was in this state, there was no use arguing. The wave of sadness just needed to run its course. Honestly, as a daughter, she had no way of truly understanding how her mother felt. While Sonja had lost a father, her mother had lost a life partner—a true love.
Sonja, on the other hand, had Frank, the local sheriff and her boyfriend, and it made her feel guilty that she couldn’t do more for her mother.
Wracking her brain for some way to bring her mother out of this funk, Sonja got an idea. “Hey, Mom. Why don’t you come into work with me later today?”
Just as she had hoped, this made her mother’s eyes brighten a little. “Y-you want me to come and help out at the diner?”
Sonja shrugged, attempting to put on her best smile. “Why not? You can take the morning to get ready, eat breakfast, shower, maybe even read a little,” she encouraged her. “During my lunch, I’ll come back and pick you up. You can help me work the afternoon shift. How does that sound?”
Her mother hesitated, running her finger around the rim of her mug. “Well, I don’t want to be in the way or anything.”
“Frank might even be there,” Sonja sing-songed, knowing the prospect of seeing her daughter’s boyfriend would get her mother out the door.
Diane shifted in her seat, clearly intrigued about seeing Frank. “Why not?” she smiled for the first time that morning. “It could be fun.”
“I hoped you’d say that.” Standing up, Sonja checked her watch. “I’ve gotta get down and open the diner. I’ll see you around twelve.”
“I’ll be ready,” her mother smiled up at her daughter, toasting her cup of coffee like it was a special occasion.
CHAPTER 2
* * *
Driving down the steep and icy road from her mother’s house to the diner was never an easy feat, especially in the diner’s large van—a purchase Sonja had made after her own car was totaled in an accident. She picked the vehicle in anticipation of scheduling more catering events in the future.
She wanted to figure out an attractive and eye-catching logo, so she could have it painted onto the van and help advertise the diner wherever she drove.
The accompaniment of the jazz station on the radio always helped calm her nerves as she made the drive along the icy road.
“You’ve been listening to Borja Brightstar,” the announcer came on just as a song ended, “with the single from her new album, Rock Me to Sleep.”
Sonja enjoyed Borja’s music. The jazz singer’s sultry voice and style reminded her of so many great legends from the golden era of jazz.
A quiet meow drew her attention, and Sonja noticed her cat sitting on the passenger seat looking up at her with its big adorable eyes.
“Morning, Misty,” she whispered to the cat. “I didn’t realize you were there.”
She had given it the nickname Misty, thanks to the fact that it always seemed to have wisps of mist coming off its body. That may have seemed odd at first, but once you realized that Misty was actually a ghost, things became a little clearer.
The cat had been a secret Christmas gift from Sonja’s father—a man who seemingly had supernatural powers of his own, but was very secretive about them. In life, the cat had belonged to her father when he was a young boy and had been originally named Lucky.
Sonja’s father seemed aware of his daughter’s powers to communicate with ghosts and use cursed objects, but he didn’t offer her any explanation or help as she navigated this still new and frightening world of the dead.
She had only discovered these powers during the previous year when she moved back to Haunted Falls. Ghosts and black magic seemed to pop up left and right, following Sonja wherever she traveled. Her father only communicated in distant notes and gestures, never giving her any real advice about how to deal with these powers.
She had to admit, it was growing old fast. She wanted to live out a normal life, running her diner and spending time with her boyfriend Frank.
However, having these abilities had its perks, and Misty was one of them.
The small animal meowed again, a sound more of distress than anything else.
“What is it, honey?” Sonja asked, leaning down to run her hand through the cat’s translucent body. “What’s wrong?”
Misty meowed mournfully again. Sonja had grown particularly mindful of the cat over the past month. She felt as if her father had sent the cat to her to help protect her, and the animal had a sense of its own, always attempting to warn Sonja when there was danger or trouble heading her way.
Now, the mystical cat owner made sure to be particularly attentive to the animal whenever it seemed to need something.
Misty’s meows grew louder as Sonja came to sudden stop just outside the lot behind her diner. “What the heck?!” she exclaimed. Sitting right in the entranceway to the lot, blocking her from pulling in, was a sanitation truck with the green logo of a tree on the back.
Again, Misty let out a mournful cry. Pulling her car into a parked positon on the side of the road beside the diner, Sonja caught a glimpse of something through one of the windows. A bluish figure, dressed in a pink dress and with dark hai
r hanging down in front of her face, beckoned the diner owner to come forward.
Sonja’s heart pounded. Something was seriously wrong.
This was the diner’s resident ghost, a beauty queen who had been murdered and buried on the grounds several years earlier. Sonja hadn’t heard “boo” from the specter in the months since she’d solved the cold case.
Stepping out of the car onto the icy pavement, Sonja kept her eye trained on the familiar spirit.
As Sonja got closer to the back of the building, the ghost moved closer to the window until she was staring down at something outside. Her glowing blue eyes, with tiny pupils, bored down into the diner’s dumpster.
“Daniella?” Sonja called, speaking to the ghost by name. “What is it?”
This wasn’t the first time Sonja had spoken to a spirit, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Communicating with the dead had become commonplace and she minded that fact less and less as the months wore on.
Daniella simply responded to Sonja’s question by nodding down at the dumpster.
“Oh, no,” Sonja whispered. The most frequent times Daniella seemed to show up was when there was a dead body nearby.
Misty leaped out of the car and trotted over toward the dumpster.
The cat meowed again, louder this time, waving a little paw at the dumpster. Daniella continued to nod, her black stringy hair bobbing in front of her face.
Walking slowly across the sidewalk and into the lot, Sonja prepared for the worst. Pulling a tissue from her bag, she carefully used it to lift the lid on the dumpster. She was instantly hit with an all too familiar smell. The smell of death.
Staring wide-eyed up at her, a small trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth, was the dead body of the local garbage man, Carson Pool.
CHAPTER 3