Savory Spring Waffle (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 11) Page 4

  “Shouldn’t you be out catering some event today?”

  “It was cut short,” she noted, “and I had some extra time on my hands.”

  “What in tarnation are you doing here, then? This is not the sort of place for a nice girl like you.”

  “What about nice guys like yourself?”

  Charles snorted a laugh. “Hardly the same thing.”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you could help me. Is Henry Haboth here?”

  “Yeah, he practically lives here at night.” Picking up a glass, he began to polish it with a washcloth. “Why would you want to talk to that scuzzbucket?”

  “I’m just doing some digging around for Frank.”

  “Don’t tell me there’s been another murder,” he exclaimed, setting the glass on the shelf.

  “Not sure yet,” she shrugged.

  “Well, Henry is at the corner table over there,” he motioned with the cloth. “But don’t let that bum give you any trouble. He might wear nice suits and keep a clean face, but it’s all just a show.”

  “I figured,” she tapped the counter. “Thanks.”

  “Hey, if you have any problems you just holler for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Walking across the room she spotted Henry at the table.

  Similarly, he spotted her, his eyes growing wide. “Darn, darn, darn,” he spat. “I thought I’d be seeing you around.”

  Stopping at the table, Sonja raised an eyebrow. “You expected me?”

  “Of course. I hoped you hadn’t seen me, but here we are.”

  “Yes,” Sonja agreed, taking a seat. “Here we are.”

  “What do you want? Money? Because I don’t have any.”

  Sonja shook her head. “Money? Why would I want money?”

  “Well, you’re blackmailing me, of course,” he snapped. “You saw what I did.”

  What did he mean by that? Did he think she’d seen him slash the tire on that car, or did he do something worse and think he was caught? Sonja decided to test her luck. “Remind me,” she smirked innocently. “What was it you did exactly?”

  “Just what you saw me do,” he exclaimed.

  “What was that, again?”

  “You saw me . . .” and then he caught himself. “Now wait just a darn minute. What did you see me do?”

  “That depends. What did you do?”

  Henry instantly stood up. “Hey, if you didn’t see me, then we don’t have any business here.”

  Sonja knew she wasn’t going to get what she wanted from him this way. “Alright, sit down, sit down,” she insisted. “I saw you slash that tire.”

  Plopping back down into his seat, he pointed in her face. “I knew it. I knew you saw me.”

  “I also overheard you this morning,” she added

  “You nosy, persistent women,” he sneered, “always ruining everything.”

  “So, you were mad at Bertha for not selling, so you slashed her tire?” Sonja assessed the situation.

  “Darn right, I did. And if you weren’t hanging around watching me, I could have finished the job.”

  Sonja raised a curious eyebrow. “Finished the job?”

  “Yeah, you know. Slashed all the tires.”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  “But when I saw you looking at me, I knew I had to get out of there. You and that stupid sheriff boyfriend of yours. I’m surprised you didn’t set him on my trail right away.”

  “Not yet,” Sonja admitted, “Provided you give me what I want.” She was going to play out this little drama as far as she could to get information.

  “Sheesh, how much do you want? I can’t afford an arrest on my record right now. I need to stay clean so I can keep in good graces with Freshly Fit.”

  “Maybe you should have thought of that before you slashed someone’s tire,” she paused for effect, debating whether she should say the next bit, “or poisoned someone’s tea.”

  “P-poisoned?” he shouted, standing up again. “Are you insane?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that someone poisoned Bertha today, and now she’s dead.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he exclaimed, his face growing green. He looked like he might just pass out right then and there.

  “Calm down or someone will see you,” she instructed him.

  “All I did was slash a simple tire. I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “It may not look that way to the police,” she noted. “They have an eyewitness who saw you arguing with the victim this morning, who saw you slashing her tire, and who saw you outside the cottage right after the murder took place.”

  She knew it was a stupid thing to do, especially if he really was the killer, but she figured that she was in a public place, which meant she was relatively safe. Also, after this, she was planning to head right over to tell Frank about everything.

  “No,” he muttered. “No way you’re going to pin this on me.”

  Sonja shrugged. “Did you do it?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did Bertha’s sister try and warn her she was in danger today?” It was sort of twisting the truth, but Sonja was hoping for an answer to this case.

  “I don’t even know her sister,” he screamed.

  “What’s going on over here?” Charles shouted, storming over. He’d clearly been listening in just enough to see if the situation would escalate.

  Henry looked more frightened than before, and his face began to glisten with sweat. “No. No way.”

  With a burst of speed, he pushed past Charles and headed for the door. “You won’t pin it on me,” he screamed, running out.

  Charles watched the man disappear from the bar and shook his head. “I told you he was nothing but trouble.”

  “Maybe more than you think,” Sonja noted.

  CHAPTER 9

  * * *

  Walking into the Haunted Falls police station, Sonja smiled at Marie, the receptionist. She’d been working at the police station for longer than Sonja had been alive. The last time she was at the station, about a week prior, Marie had pink hair like cotton candy. Today, it was a purple puffy cloud atop her head.

  “Hi, Marie,” Sonja greeted.

  Glancing up from the computer, Marie nodded. “Hello, doll,” she beamed. “Frank’s in his office waiting for you.”

  “Waiting for me?” Sonja asked, a little confused.

  “Yes, hon. Charles from down at the pool hall called.”

  Sonja twisted her face in irritation and put her hands on her hips. “That tattle-tale.”

  “He always has been. For a man who runs a joint like that, he sure is one honest customer.”

  “Sonja,” Frank called from where he stood leaning on the frame of his office door. “Come on in. I just poured you a cup of coffee.”

  “Isn’t it a little late in the day for coffee?”

  Frank raised an eyebrow of impatience, but the twitch in the corner of his mouth showed his normal good-humored attitude hiding just beneath the surface.

  “All right, coming,” Sonja relented, watching Frank disappear into his office. Turning to Marie, she slid the little slip of paper with the license plate number on it across the desk. “Can you look this up for me?” she whispered.

  “Sure, hon,” Marie winked.

  “Come down to the diner tomorrow and I’ll get you a free plate of waffles.”

  Marie smiled widely. “You always do, dear.”

  “Love the new hair, by the way.”

  The older woman turned red with delight. “It is divine, isn’t it? You’re such a sweetheart.”

  Walking into the sheriff’s office, Sonja closed the door behind herself.

  “You shouldn’t encourage her, you know,” Frank teased lightly.

  “Hey, a woman’s got to have some excitement in her life.”

  “I suppose,” Frank responded, nodding toward the chair across from him.

  Sonja took a seat and folded her arms. “So, Charles called and blabbe
d, did he?”

  “Harry Haboth has a criminal record,” Frank scolded his girlfriend as he handed her a cup of coffee.

  “Like what? Property damage, disturbing the peace, petty theft?” She shook her head. “He may be a little messed up, but I’m not so sure he’s a hardened criminal.” Sonja refrained for the moment from mentioning that she thought he could be the murderer.

  “You still shouldn’t have gone to speak with him alone.” The humor Sonja had seen earlier in her boyfriend was quickly fading from his face.

  “You told me you wanted solid theories.” She shrugged. “I was only trying to solidify some facts before coming to you.”

  “Sonja,” Frank sighed, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently. “I also told you not to go poking around alone.”

  “Hey,” she argued. “I came right over here to give you my new information, didn’t I?”

  He nodded. “You did, and I suppose that is better than what you’ve done during past murder cases.”

  Hearing him say that sounded a little odd. Had they really worked on so many murder cases together? Why had it become so normal?

  Some couples went skiing together, boating together, or any number of activities. Sonja and Frank solved murders together.

  “But still. Homicide is a serious matter.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Frank. I’m not a child.”

  “I didn’t say you were,” he responded defensively, trying to keep her calm. “But you are a civilian, and more importantly, you’re my girlfriend. It already looks bad as it is, you helping out on all these cases. Heck, I could lose my position over this if something more serious happened.”

  Sonja felt her face grow a little hot, suddenly feeling bad for having put her boyfriend into this type of position. She only thought she was helping, not causing more problems. She sighed. If only he knew about her supernatural powers so much of this would be easier.

  “What if you got hurt,” he paused, “or worse?” Shaking his head, he picked up his own mug and took a long drink of coffee. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to handle that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sonja responded. “I really am.”

  “Sonj’, if you’re really sorry, then why do you keep doing it? Why continue to put yourself out there in harm’s way?”

  Because I have the power to solve these cases, she wanted to blurt out. Not to mention, as her own father said, their supernatural abilities acted as sort of a drawing point for murderers. This made it seem like it was her own responsibility to solve these cases when they came up.

  On top of it all, she had those weird dreams and premonitions she often had. Perhaps if she just had more experience, she could have stopped Bertha’s death altogether.

  Frank finished off his mug of coffee and sighed, seeing the pain on his girlfriend’s face. “Hey, sweetie. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

  Sonja nodded. “You had every right to be,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, again.” She set her mug on the desk without taking a drink.

  “Hey,” Frank said quietly, walking around the desk and leaning down to embrace her tightly. “You know I just want you to be safe, right?”

  “I know.”

  “That’s why I get so upset.” He pulled away from her and looked her in the eye. “These people are criminals, petty or not. Criminals can easily become desperate and dangerous. That’s why we already have murders to solve.”

  “Makes sense,” she responded.

  “Now,” Frank moved around the desk and took his seat, switching back into police mode. “Tell me what you found out. How is Henry connected to all of this?”

  CHAPTER 10

  * * *

  Sonja proceeded with the facts, telling Frank about the argument Henry and Bertha had earlier that morning. Then she mentioned how she saw Henry outside the cottage just before the murder took place and how he had slashed the tire.

  “I see,” Frank nodded. “That seems like enough circumstantial evidence for you to come to me before you talked to Henry.”

  Sonja shrugged. “I needed to confirm that it was really him hiding behind the car and that he really did slash that tire.”

  “I guess so.”

  “When I went to talk to him he seemed very skittish and jumpy.”

  The sheriff stroked his chin. “Acting sort of guilty, maybe?”

  “Well, at least about the slashed tire. That was the only thing he was willing to admit to me.”

  “Why would he even admit that?”

  Sonja shrugged. “He thought I was trying to blackmail him.”

  “Over a slashed tire?” Frank asked. “That hardly seems like worthy blackmail material.”

  “Maybe it is. He recently has been trying to go into business with Freshly Fit and mentioned that they might drop him if they found out about his criminal record—especially if he had another crime added to the list.”

  “He seems awfully attached to this Freshly Fit company.”

  “He’s treating it like it’s his last chance to have something successful.”

  “But is it enough to kill over?”

  Sonja shrugged. “If you saw the way his apartment building looked, and how he acted at the bar, you just might believe it. He could really be that desperate.”

  “All the more reason for you to stay away from him for the time being. If he actually thinks you’re trying to blackmail him over the murder he may very well come after you, too.”

  * * *

  Sonja considered talking to her father about the murder case when she got home that night but decided against it. Instead, she didn’t even bother stopping at her parents’ home to say hello and headed to the backyard where the guest house was that she lived in.

  She was eager to do a little research on the internet about what possible type of poisons matched Bertha’s symptoms.

  Sonja knew she was no scientist and no doctor, and she definitely wasn’t an expert on poisons, but she hoped she could find something useful. For all she knew, the doctors and the police already knew what had killed Bertha.

  That didn’t mean anyone was going to tell Sonja, however.

  The main thought on her mind was this: was Henry Haboth a good enough criminal, and forward thinking enough, to poison someone’s tea?

  Sitting at her desk and opening her laptop computer, she quickly began searching for poisons based on the symptoms presented.

  After only a few moments of searching the web, she was beginning to feel overwhelmed. There were so many poisons out there, many of them lethal in certain amounts. Worse than that, every page talked about how different people may present varied symptoms based on how they personally react to a chemical.

  “Okay, think, think,” Sonja muttered to herself. How could she narrow this down more? What was a well-known poison that someone like Henry might have easy access to?

  That was when an article in the search results caught Sonja’s eye. Ten Poisonous Plants and Where to Find Them.

  “Of course,” Sonja exclaimed. Why hadn’t she thought of that first thing? The garden was the perfect place to find poisons. While she was no herbalist herself, she was aware that there were many plants that Bertha probably used in her medicinal remedies and mixtures that were okay in small amounts, but potentially lethal in high doses.

  Clicking on the link, Sonja began scrolling through the list, reading each entry carefully. A picture of each plant made identification easy, but so far she wasn’t seeing anything that rang any bells.

  Then she reached number eight and gasped. The picture was familiar—purple bell-shaped flowers and pointed leaves. Sure enough, this was the same plant that Alison had gushed over at the garden.

  The plant was called digitalis, also known as witch’s gloves. On top of that, the symptoms seemed to match up to Bertha’s last moments of life. Specifically, the poison caused temporary confusion with hallucinations in high doses and hindered the heart’s natural function.

  Standing up excit
edly, Sonja was about to pump a fist of victory in the air when a loud and ear deafening crash broke the silence. The amateur sleuth screamed as the window just over her desk shattered inward and a hefty brick sailed past her head, landing on the floor with a thud.

  Shaking like a leaf, Sonja peered outside just as someone darted out of the yard and into the trees.

  “What was that crash?” she heard her mother scream as she came bursting out the back door of the main house with her father.

  Glancing down, Sonja instantly saw that a piece of paper was tied to the brick with a piece of twine. Pulling the paper off, she examined its contents.

  “What happened?” her father asked, stepping into the guest house.

  “Someone sent me a message,” Sonja indicated the letter.

  I’m not going to pay your blackmail. You better not tell anyone what you saw or else I’m going to make you sorry you did.

  CHAPTER 11

  * * *

  Soon, the house and yard were all abuzz with commotion. The Sheriff and one of the deputies showed up to examine the scene as well as make sure Sonja was okay.

  Meanwhile, Sonja’s mother was in a fit of excitement and worry over her daughter. The two sat at the kitchen table in the main house drinking tea. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You can stay here in the house with us tonight, and the police are here.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Really,” Sonja insisted. She’d been in far more frightening situations during other murder cases. Heck, she’d dealt with being run off the road by a renegade truck, almost being buried alive, possession and even witches coming back from the grave. A drunken threat from Henry Haboth was hardly high on her list of most terrifying experiences.

  “Oh, you don’t need to put on a brave face, dear. If you need to sleep in our room with us, we understand.”

  “No, I’ll just sleep in the guest bedroom.”

  The backdoor opened and Frank and Samuel came inside.

  “Looks like he’s long gone by now.”

  “Oh no,” her mother gasped. “Then he’s still out there!”