BUCKAROO WAFFLE MURDER (The Wicked Waffle Series Book 5) Read online

  What she hadn’t planned on was her fiancé’s unexpected exclamation as he stood on her doorstep. She had been so dead certain that she’d have a quiet birthday, and that Frank was okay with that, that she was caught off guard.

  “Did you hear me?”

  She blinked a few times to recollect herself. “I did.”

  “Well, can I come in and show you?” he asked, clutching a little decorative envelope in his reddened bare hands.

  Realizing she had just been staring at him in shock—especially considering her assertion to Ally that there would be no big birthday plans—and stepped aside to welcome him into the house. “Sorry, come on in.”

  She was beginning to wonder if Ally knew that Frank had big plans and was setting her up for a surprise. It wouldn’t be unlike her best friend.

  “Boy, it’s cold out tonight,” he said, walking into the cozy living room where a fire was popping in the fireplace.

  “I didn’t think we were planning anything spectacular this year for my birthday,” she admitted, taking his jacket off his broad shoulders and laying it on the chair in the corner.

  “I know, but this just came up and I couldn’t resist.” He took a seat on the couch and looked over the food. “Ooh, this looks tasty.” Setting down the envelope and rubbing his hands together, he took a pretzel from the bowl and popped it into his mouth.

  He was clearly teasing her, forcing her to wait longer to find out his surprise.

  “So, are you going to tell me?” Sonja pressed, sitting down on the couch next to him.

  “Oh, you mean the surprise?” he asked in as innocent a voice as he could muster.

  “Yes, the surprise,” she insisted, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

  “Okay, okay,” he laughed out loud, picking up the envelope and handing it over.

  She was about ready to run her finger under the flap and rip it open when she paused. “Hold on, my birthday isn’t until this weekend. Should I wait until then to open this?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “No, no, open it now.”

  “So, it’s something we’re going to do together this weekend?” she asked.

  “Just open it and see,” he urged, now becoming the impatient one.

  “Okay,” she agreed, tearing the flap back and pulling out the contents inside. Two slips of paper stared back at her with little western style revolvers in the corners. “Two tickets to the opening weekend of the Last Chance Train Ride Experience,” she read out loud from the note inside.

  Frank leaned back on the couch, spreading his arms wide and looking completely satisfied with himself—like he’d just given her the best present in the world. “Yep. It’s an actual historical train route that cuts through part of the mountains. Everyone gets dressed up in old western style clothing and rides through the mountains for two days and a night. We eat and sleep on the train.”

  “So, it’s literally an experience,” she stated, emphasizing the word experience.

  Sonja had to admit, this sounded more like a present for Frank than for her. While she enjoyed watching the occasional western, it was her fiancé who was the real fan. Ever since they’d begun dating, she’d watched a whole lot more westerns. He’d grown up on a ranch in a small town in Wyoming, riding horses, herding cattle, the works.

  The wild west was in his blood.

  Sonja just wasn’t sure it was in hers. After all, some of those old clothes seemed like they’d be uncomfortable.

  On the other hand, a historic train ride through the snowy mountains could be romantic. Not to mention, Frank looked so overly excited that she’d hate to dampen his spirits.

  Still, she felt compelled to bring up one little detail. “Frank, remember the last time you took me somewhere for my birthday—that cabin?”

  “This will be different. Trust me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I know you loved a lot of the western movies I showed you, so I thought you might enjoy this.”

  Putting on a smile, she agreed. “Okay. I trust you.”

  “By the way, you missed something,” Frank said, pointing at the envelope.

  Digging in, Sonja pulled out another small item. A menu of all the available foods on the train. Under the breakfast options, there was an item circled. “The Buckaroo Waffle?”

  “That’s right. I thought you’d be excited to give someone else’s waffle dish a try for once. If you like it, maybe you can incorporate it into your menu at the diner.”

  A warmth filled her chest as she looked at her beaming fiancé, his pearly white teeth showing out proudly from behind his neatly trimmed blonde beard. He really did love her and knew how to make her happy.

  Also, she had to admit, she was honestly interested in this Buckaroo Waffle.

  While she still had a tinge of doubt in the back of her mind, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse too closely in the mouth. “Sounds like fun,” she announced, feeling sincerely excited.

  CHAPTER 2

  * * *

  “What’s that you’re reading, Frank?” Sonja asked from the driver seat of her catering van as she steered carefully along the mountain road which wove like a thread along the canyon. Winter driving in the Rockies was never an easy or peaceful task, but thankfully the roads were relatively dry and clear. No fresh snow had fallen since the plows had come through.

  However, they’d had to wake up around four a.m. to be ready for the lengthy drive through the rugged mountains, and Sonja’s three cups of coffee were finally wearing off. She hoped that they had more coffee during breakfast aboard the train.

  Sonja had insisted that they take the catering van over Frank’s little sports car for two reasons. First, the van was far more likely to make the drive along the winding roads safely. Second, Sonja liked being in control of the driving.

  Glancing over at her fiancé, she had noticed his eyes were affixed to the pages of a paperback book. It was a bit of an odd sight, considering she’d never seen him reading before—at least not for pleasure.

  He just had never been much of a reader.

  Additionally, it was a surprise that he hadn’t just fallen asleep while trying to read.

  “What’s that, Sonj’?” Frank finally responded, recognizing that his fiancé had asked him a question.

  “That book? What is it?”

  Leaving his finger on the page he was reading, he closed the book and showed her the cover. On the front was a man with a tattered, floppy hat, a makeshift fur coat, and a wiry beard.

  “Prospectors of the Old West?” she read the title out loud.

  “That’s right,” he beamed, his smile brimming over his face.

  “Guess you’re really getting into the spirit of things early,” she teased him, finding it humorous how excited he was about this weekend birthday trip.

  Sonja nearly missed her turn off due to the snowy trees blocking the sign, but Frank thankfully pointed her in the right direction.

  Once she was off the main road and climbing the winding path to the museum and train station, the van started to struggle slightly. The snow over the dirt made for a crunchy, yet slippery, ride. However, with a little clever maneuvering—a talent only learned by living and driving in the mountains most of her life—she finally came up over the crest of the incline and into the clearing that acted as a parking lot.

  Upon taking in the sight before her, she couldn’t help but gasp.

  While the historic train station and museum was a beauty in itself, it was the massive steam engine sitting just off to the side of the building that demanded the most awe.

  Its sleek black engine breathed like a dragon, plumes of thick white smoke chugging evenly and slowly from its magnificent wide mouth stack. The massive wheels, connected by a thick crankshaft, glistened with fresh oil.

  Behind the engine was a load of wood along with several other cars painted in greens and reds.

  Frank let out a light chuckle. “It’s impressive, isn’t it?”

&
nbsp; “No kidding,” she whispered. She’d been interested, even excited, to see a historic train in person. However, nothing she had thought could have prepared her for the majesty of such a powerful machine—which was only made more impressive by the knowledge that it was built in the eighteen-hundreds.

  “Well, we’d better park and check in.”

  Blinking away her shock, she realized that the van was just sitting in the middle of the lot. Regaining her composure, she slid the vehicle into one of the spots and hopped out.

  “Come on. I wonder what sort of costumes they have for us,” he said eagerly, grabbing his travel bag and leading the way to the front door.

  Stepping inside, Sonja was glad for the warmth of the wood burning stove in the corner and prayed that the train itself was heated. A night on a frozen train hardly sounded like fun.

  Other patrons, some of them already dressed up in period garb, were wandering through the antique items on display. Others were being shown into dressing rooms labeled men’s and women’s by a man dressed in a conductor’s uniform wearing a bushy white mustache.

  Approaching the front desk, with a door behind it that sat slightly ajar, they waited for someone to come out and check them in.

  “Why did you have to go and do that? We didn’t need to involve him, you know. We could have just gone looking for it ourselves,” a man’s irritated voice echoed out from behind the door, barely audible unless you happened to be standing right there.

  “I’ve already told you why I invited him along. I want this whole thing to be clean and legal. Would you want to be arrested for stealing from the United States Government?” a second, much calmer voice reasoned.

  “The government didn’t need to know,” the first man barked.

  “Well, there isn’t any point arguing about it now. He’s on his way.”

  “And you’ve ruined our chances to make a profit on this dang place,” the first man retorted with an extra hint of venom in his voice. With a breeze, the door swung open and a tall man in a black cowboy hat with dark hair stormed out. His face was flushed with anger, but he paused dead cold upon spotting the couple standing at the desk. His eyes darted from Sonja to Frank.

  Furrowing his brow, he didn’t say a single word to them and marched away.

  For a moment, it looked almost as if the stranger had recognized her fiancé.

  “What was that about?” Sonja whispered to Frank.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea,” he responded with half a shrug.

  A second later, the other man stepped out. He wore a more traditional brown cowboy hat and had a shiny sheriff’s star pinned to his tan overcoat. Upon seeing them, his face brightened up with a smile. “Sheriff Frank Thompson, how the heck are ya’?” he bellowed like he was greeting an old friend.

  The gesture caught Sonja off guard.

  “Vaughn Potter, you old devil.” Opening his arms wide, he embraced the man behind the desk, clapping him on the back. “I didn’t know you’d taken up with law enforcement,” Frank joked, pulling back and jabbing a finger at the man’s badge.

  “Just for show, I can assure you.” Vaughn stood up straight and proud. “Once we step on that train, I become Sheriff Vaughn Potter.”

  “Does someone mind telling me what’s going on?” Sonja butted in, feeling just a little left out of the loop. She presented her best smile trying to hide her complete confusion.

  “Of course. Sonja, this is my old friend from back home, Vaughn Potter.”

  “A pleasure, ma’am,” the fake sheriff joked with an exaggerated drawl. He held out a firm hand which Sonja accepted and shook.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Sonja Reed.”

  “Yes, yes, I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “And somehow, I’ve heard nothing about you,” she replied, turning her gaze to her fiancé. She gave him her best accusatory glare.

  “Vaughn here is a historian specializing in the Colorado west,” he replied, half smiling at her and hoping to quell some of that playful anger.

  “That’s right. I bought this historic train station a few years back and have been working to turn it into a museum and tourist spot.”

  Sonja still wasn’t sure why she’d never heard of him. She realized that it had been a four-hour drive deeper into the mountains to get here, but if he’d been around this whole time—and was as good a friend to her fiancé as he appeared to be—why was she just meeting him now?

  Frank read her expression and immediately responded. “Vaughn has been traveling around the country and even into Canada to collect the proper antiques and merchandise for this place.”

  “As well as getting investors, business licensure, the works,” Vaughn added. “Don’t be surprised that you haven’t met me before now. In fact, the only person I really am familiar with in these parts is Mary, the mail lady who comes by every day.”

  Sonja let her smile come back, deciding that the minor mishap wasn’t a big deal. “In any case, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Same here,” he agreed, stepping around the desk to stand next to them. “Why don’t we get you two suited up and ready for the ride?” he offered, motioning toward the dressing rooms on the far side of the building.

  CHAPTER 3

  * * *

  Sonja wanted nothing more than to question Frank about Vaughn. In particular, she wanted to know why he hadn’t mentioned his friend before and why he wouldn’t say anything about being invited to the opening weekend of the train ride experience. It was clear to her that Frank had either gotten the tickets for the weekend at a discount or maybe even for free.

  All in all, it seemed more and more like this had less to do with her birthday and more to do with Vaughn. Sonja didn’t mind spending her birthday weekend on this little outing. Everything considered she was very excited about what might await her and Frank on the train. It could turn out to be a real blast.

  That didn’t stop her from still being a little bit irritated that he wasn’t just completely honest with her about the weekend. It was okay that the opening of the museum and her birthday fell on the same day.

  She only wished Frank had told her the truth.

  However, she never got a chance to bring up the issue before she was being ushered into a dressing room by the man dressed as the train conductor. “Hello there, little lady,” the older gentleman greeted her through his bushy mustache. He spoke with a perfect southern drawl and she couldn’t quite tell if it was an act or his real voice.

  “Hello,” she said with a bob of her head.

  “If you’ll just step inside, you’ll find a whole rack of outfits in various sizes and styles. Feel free to try any of them on, and when you’ve selected one, bring out the numbered tag and hand it to me so I can log it in the books.”

  “Thank you.”

  “By the way. My name is Jake Rierson and I’d be happy to answer any questions you have.”

  Heading through the swinging door, she was amazed to see just how large the room was on the other side. Along one wall was a long display of various costumes, all numbered. On the opposite side were several doors where patrons could change in private. On the far end was a full-length mirror.

  There were already a handful of ladies inside the room checking themselves out in the period clothing.

  Just as Sonja had dreaded, it appeared to be mostly petticoats, corsets, and fluffy dresses. While she was not averse to getting dolled up, she didn’t find the idea of spending her entire birthday weekend in a dress very enticing.

  Glancing over the rack of items on display, the frills and puffs were a telling sign that she might not have another choice—until her eye landed on something slightly different. Glancing sideways to read the tag, it said: U.S. Scout.

  Pulling the costume out, she was overly joyed to see a pair of dark pants in the place of a skirt or dress. Eagerly stepping inside one of the stalls, she changed into the outfit. It was a perfect fit. A blouse was covered by a long wool jacket with fur
along the collar for warmth. To top it off, it had a wide-brimmed black hat.

  She looked like a classic gunslinger right out of a movie. All she needed was a gun.

  Stepping out of the dressing room, she handed Jake the tag. “Here you go.”

  “Well, well, I was hopin’ someone would pick out that one. Glad it was you,” he beamed, giving her a smile.

  “Has the man I came in with finished yet?” she asked.

  “Sure thing, ma’am. He’s right over there,” the conductor motioned across the room toward Frank and Vaughn.

  For a moment, Sonja had to stop and catch her breath.

  In true fashion, Frank had picked out the costume of a sheriff’s deputy. Dressed in a pair of charcoal gray slacks with a matching vest and a long winter overcoat, Frank looked trim and handsome as ever. In his black cowboy hat, he looked like he was made for the outfit, and Sonja wondered for a moment if her fiancé had been born into the wrong era.

  He and Vaughn stood very close to one another and appeared to be whispering. The museum owner nodded in response to something Frank said and patted the front pocket of his jacket with a firm hand.

  Sonja headed their way, feeling a tingling excitement running through her body about the coming adventure—much like a child on Christmas morning.

  She was about halfway across the room when the front door of the building swung open, letting in a rush of frigid air and revealing a short and blonde-haired man standing there.

  Sonja froze in place, seeing the person standing just beyond the threshold.

  The rest of the room also went suddenly silent as everyone turned to look at him.

  “Close that door,” someone shouted. It was the irate man they’d overheard arguing with Vaughn earlier. He was stomping over toward the entrance.