Hot Buttered Murder Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  HOT BUTTERED MURDER

  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

  Hot Buttered Murder

  A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy

  Book 1

  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!

  Also…

  …if you’re looking for more great reads, check out the Summer Prescott Publishing Book Catalog:

  http://summerprescottbooks.com/book-catalog/ for some truly delicious stories.

  Contact Info for Summer Prescott Publishing:

  Twitter: @summerprescott1

  Blog and Book Catalog: http://summerprescottbooks.com

  Email: [email protected]

  And…look up The Summer Prescott Fan Page and Summer Prescott Publishing Page on Facebook – let’s be friends! To sign up for our fun and exciting newsletter, which will give you opportunities to win prizes and swag, enter contests, and be the first to know about New Releases, click here:

  https://forms.aweber.com/form/02/1682036602.htm

  HOT BUTTERED MURDER

  A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy

  Book 1

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  “Ghosts don’t exist,” Kara Bran affirmed to herself, announcing it out loud for her own benefit.

  Kara was sitting alone in her car with nothing more than the dark looming presence of the Colorado Rocky Mountains at midnight to answer her. Her words fell on the air with a thick quality, settling like a voice from the dead on her ears.

  Jolting as a shiver crawled over her skin, her little white four-door swerved ever so slightly to one side of the road, almost skidding along the railing. At the last second, she corrected her movements and centered the car on the road.

  “Pay attention, Bran,” she scolded herself like her boss at the office always did.

  She was exhausted, but she couldn’t let it get the better of her, not while she was driving through the darkness on a winding mountain road. Glancing at the drop-off into the river laden gulley below beside her, she shivered again.

  No chances for a mistake.

  Grabbing her thermos, she swallowed down some lukewarm coffee. The thick liquid gave her an instant jolt of energy as she refocused on her driving.

  “Ghosts don’t exist,” she repeated as she slid the cup back into its holder.

  She’d said it again and again during her lengthy car ride, trying to convince herself it was true. She’d seen some strange things in the past month, but was determined to prove they were nothing more than coincidence.

  She had recently moved into a high-rise apartment in the heart of Denver. She was the secretary at a high-end law firm. She had no reason to believe in ghosts. Part of her still couldn’t explain why she was on that secluded road in the middle of the night, winding through the mountains to find a little spit of a town called Haunted Falls.

  The events that had led up to that moment were strange, to say the least.

  It all began when she’d heard sounds coming from the apartment walls at night. At first, Kara paid them no mind at all. She’d just assumed that it was old pipes humming or joists settling. However, when the quiet moans and taps became screams and bangs, she was sure she had heard a murder in the next apartment.

  However, after calling the police, it was revealed that the room next to her’s was vacant. No one had lived in it for months. The cops even had the courtesy to check inside.

  They found no trace of foul play.

  However, that wasn’t good enough for Kara. After doing a little digging on her own, she’d found out that there had indeed been a murder in that apartment—but it had occurred over ten years earlier.

  The sounds at night continued, and just when Kara thought she was at her wit’s end, a stranger came knocking on her door.

  “I hear you have a ghost problem?” the woman said. She had long dark hair, pale skin, and a slender figure. In fact, in Kara’s estimation, she looked downright like a vampire.

  The woman introduced herself as Belinda, never giving a last name. “If you want to know more about ghosts, I suggest you talk to a friend of mine.”

  She’d handed Kara a pre-prepared notecard with a name and address on it and said, “she’ll be willing to talk to you about your options.”

  Only a few weeks earlier, Kara would have thrown the card right in the trash and ignored the woman’s advice. However, after multiple sleepless nights, she was getting desperate.

  Feeling as foolish as ever, she’d decided to meet this mystery woman. It was a last-minute choice, and she hadn’t even bothered packing any clothes or toiletries. Kara left that same day, not wanting to endure yet another night in her haunted apartment.

  “Ghosts don’t exist,” she whispered again, trying to calm herself.

  Kara had been driving for nearly two hours, and when she finally boarded the self-automated ferry that would take her across the mountain lake to the small town of Haunted Falls, she let out a heavy sigh.

  She was almost there.

  The lights of the waterfront homes and shops glowed along the silvery water. A lighthouse sat on some rocks at the top of a cliff face, shining down upon her.

  She supposed she could find a hotel for the night, or maybe a little bed-and-breakfast, and worry about this mystery woman in the morning. However, when the ferry docked and set its auto-locks, she decided to at least go and see the place listed on the notecard.

  Slipping the note out of her pocket, she examined it closely. The Waffle Diner and Eatery. That was the name of the place she needed to find. Supposedly, it was only a few blocks from the ferry. Checking her console’s GPS, she checked the roads, taking the occasional turn, until the short chrome sided building came into view.

  The place was dark, clearly closed, but she could still tell that it was a perfect nineteen-fifties style diner—a place she would have loved eating if it weren’t for the fact that she was on a ghost hunt of sorts.

  Pulling into the lot, she noticed a shadowy outline of someone standing under the diner’s awning, just out of sight of her headlights.

  Was this the woman Belinda had sent her to see?

  Turning off the engine, she waited in the car for a minute, wondering if it was wise to get out.

  Finally, she decided she had not
hing to lose. Kara unlocked her door and stepped out of the car.

  Peering through the darkness, she attempted to make out the strange figure. The singular street lamp didn’t cast a large enough circle of light for her to determine any features, but the woman appeared to have crazy hair sticking out of the sides of her head and had her arms stretched out to either side in a cross shape.

  Cautiously, she made her way over to where the person was standing.

  “Excuse me?” she started to ask, but before she could say anything else, a strange whistle sounded on the night air. A pain shot through her body, starting at the back of her neck and spreading through her arms and legs. Before she knew what had hit her, she’d toppled dead right there on the diner’s doorstep.

  CHAPTER 1

  * * *

  “Good morning, Misty,” Sonja Reed greeted her fuzzy gray cat with a pat on the head. Her fingers grazed right through the animal’s frizzy crown, creating wisps of bluish light when she pulled her hand away.

  She couldn’t really pet Misty, not in the same way you pet a normal cat. Misty was, after all, a ghost. Instead, she just ran her fingers through the cat’s translucent, ethereal matter. It was a similar sensation to when you poked a hand outside the front door on a cool autumn day to see if you’d need a light jacket or something heavier.

  Still, Misty seemed to enjoy the attention, whether he could feel it or not.

  Misty had belonged to Sonja’s father at one time, back when it was alive. Now, the cat was hers, a ghostly companion to accompany her along her journey in life.

  The fact that clairvoyance ran in the family was something that became more normal each day. Sonja had spent so much time—ever since she found out she could contact the dead—trying to shove the apparent horror of it aside.

  However, she was getting more used to the idea with each passing day.

  It had been just over one year since her last encounter with a real-life wicked witch, one who had taken up residence in the secluded wilderness of a nearby state-park. Thankfully, the paranormal events around Sonja had become so much tamer since that time.

  A chime echoed from the kitchenette. Walking behind the counter, Sonja turned off the coffee maker. Pouring the hot liquid into a mug with the words I Love Cats printed on the side, she sipped it and stepped into the living area.

  Sighing, Sonja surveyed the room around her. It was cluttered to the brim with cardboard boxes, each filled with random assortments of her stuff. Getting everything packed for the move had been far more daunting than she first expected, and she wasn’t even completely done yet.

  Ever since she’d moved back to Haunted Falls two years ago, she’d lived in a guest house situated behind her parent’s Victorian home. It was about time she lived somewhere else.

  Humming a tune, she began packing up a few small items from the desk by sticking them inside one of the boxes that had some space left.

  A quiet meow echoed across the room as Misty leapt from one box to the next, hiding among the junk. Sonja couldn’t help but laugh. The little ghost had been doing it ever since the boxes arrived two days earlier.

  He was cute.

  Going back to her work, the desk was almost completely cleared, all except one black jewelry box. The prickle of goosebumps graced her neck. Inside that little black box was the final reminder of a truly dark time in her life—a crystal necklace that held supernatural qualities.

  While Sonja had grown much more comfortable with her clairvoyant ability, she still found some discomfort in it. Her own experiences had taught her that there were some truly wicked things hiding out there in the darkness.

  Sonja was happy to see that nothing so horrible as the witch had cropped up in her recent life. Things had been good, quiet.

  Sonja’s plan, as soon as she got to her new house, was to hide that jewelry box away for good—hopefully never to be seen again.

  Life had been going well and Sonja wasn’t about to let that change. She pushed all memories of those difficult times aside and looked to the future. She thought about her boyfriend, Sheriff Frank Thompson, and her restaurant The Waffle Diner and Eatery.

  Her relationship with Frank had the opportunity to grow and blossom over the last few months. With things having calmed down, they’d finally gotten a chance to truly date one another.

  Her diner, on the other hand, was growing more and more popular throughout all of Colorado. In fact, she’d heard a rumor that some of the bigger Denver magazines were considering doing a piece on her little establishment. The thrill of her success, and the fact that so many people enjoyed her food, made her more excited than ever. Tourists coming through the area would stop just to try one of Sonja’s famous waffles.

  She was well known for specialty menu items, delicious and exquisite gourmet breakfast dishes that brought in the crowds.

  Lately, however, Sonja had a great desire to return to the basics, and was downsizing the menu to just a few delightful classics.

  While she was positive that she would return to creating her delightful waffles of every kind, she thought it was good to have a clean slate sometimes—just like she’d been given in life.

  The boxes from her move were simply one tell-tale sign of her new lease on life.

  Additionally, the ghostly visitations had become more subtle and nuanced. Sonja had even bought a tarot deck to try and get in touch with her spiritual abilities on a more regular basis. Of course, she hadn’t told Frank what she was doing yet. She was still shy about discussing ghosts with him, and Frank simply assumed the spooks were gone for good.

  Sonja was okay leaving it that way for now.

  Standing up, she finished off her coffee.

  “Well, I’ll be back later this afternoon,” she informed the cat. Misty paused and looked up at his owner. He meowed lightly, as if in disapproval of her leaving.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go down and open the diner for the day. What kind of a boss would I be if I just left it to everyone else to take care of things?” She smiled, giving the cat a pat on the head. Grabbing a hair tie, she pulled her red locks back into a ponytail, pulled her purse off the counter, and headed out the door.

  * * *

  The red and white catering van was the same one Sonja had always used. It was her personal vehicle as well as her work vehicle. It was a bit of a tank to drive around, but she liked it. She had recently had it repainted, adding a large ad for the diner on both sides. It consisted of a red and white checkered tablecloth with a fresh plate of steaming waffles sitting right in the middle of it. A perfectly square pat of butter sat in the center of the waffle stack, melting delicately into the crevices of the delicious breakfast dish. The name of the diner was printed in bold lettering and arched around the table.

  Sonja hummed along with the jazz radio as she drove down the incline from her parent’s neighborhood toward the diner. It was still dark out, seeing as it wasn’t quite five yet.

  Turning into the front parking lot, she slid into one of the parking spots further away from the entrance, leaving parking space for the customers. Before the new paint job, Sonja had always parked in the dirt lot out back. Lately, however, she’d chosen to opt for the front lot. It was good advertising for the diner, and it kept the van from getting as dirty.

  It rained and snowed frequently in Haunted Falls, thus turning the back lot into mud.

  Turning off the engine, Sonja opened the door and climbed down, slipping her purse over her shoulder again.

  She had an excited energy pulsing through her body about the day ahead of her, and she couldn’t help rubbing her hands together. She was looking forward to cooking some good old-fashioned waffles.

  More than waffles, however, she thought about moving into her new home the following day. This move had come on as an unexpected but welcome surprise, and Sonja wasn’t sure what to quite expect.

  She paused when she noticed another car parked in the lot. Was someone already waiting to get inside for breakfast? If so, t
hey were going to be sorely disappointed to learn that they didn’t open until six.

  On closer inspection, however, Sonja realized that the car was devoid of any driver or passengers. Letting off a shrug, she turned back toward the diner.

  Standing at the front door was the old scarecrow, with crazy straw hair and arms outstretched in the form of a hug, waiting for her. Since it was already September, Sonja put him up to welcome Autumn as it arrived on the twenty-second of that month. He had a big smile on his face and wide eyes.

  Sonja suddenly paused as she realized something was wrong.

  This morning, the scarecrow’s expression seemed like a grim contrast to the sight at his feet. Laying on the concrete in front of him was the crumpled figure of a woman’s body.

  CHAPTER 2

  * * *

  “Ma’am?” Sonja called, rushing over and kneeling beside the woman. Without a second’s hesitation, she gingerly gripped the woman’s arm to try and check for a pulse. But Sonja stopped dead upon touching her skin. It was ice cold, a feeling of the grave upon her. Worse than that, the muscles were all tensed into uncomfortable positions—held there in a nightmarish pose of death.

  It was almost as if the woman had gone into a paralysis of some sort.

  Instinctively, Sonja shuffled back from the body, a pump of adrenaline reminding her just how afraid she was. Flashbacks of previous moments just like this one, when she had stumbled upon other dead bodies, blinked across her mind like a children’s flipbook. Sweat was building up along her forehead and her heart rate had increased tenfold in a matter of seconds. It didn’t help that previous supernatural horrors she’d experienced were now haunting the forefront of her thoughts.

  Was this, in fact, the beginning of another whole round of frightening ghostly encounters?

  She prayed she was wrong.