High Steaks Waffle (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 16) Read online

  Sonja smiled back.

  As Frank held the half-full bottle, a low clicking noise suddenly filled the air. Both looked toward the gas stove they were standing over just as the four burners suddenly erupted into flames.

  Frank let out a yowl as his hand got singed, dropping the bottle into the inferno.

  Sonja, took a leaping step backward from the heat.

  “What in the heck?” Frank shouted, grasping his wounded hand.

  The flames grew higher and higher, some ethereal force feeding them with its fury. They reached the level of the top shelf where they’d gotten the bottle and then began to lick up the dust, as if they had a mind of their own, filling the air with the burnt smell of peanuts.

  Once every last speck of the dust had been consumed, the flames twisted unnaturally, swirling around one another and forming an image.

  Sonja eyes widened as a woman appeared, her eyes blazing bright with the blue core of the fire and her hair standing straight up like she’d been filled with electricity.

  “Get that fire out,” Frank shouted, stumbling back in fear and gripping the metal counter behind himself for support. He looked frantically for a fire extinguisher. Sonja glanced from her boyfriend and back to the flames and realized he couldn’t see the woman there.

  The woman in the flames laughed wickedly, pointing a fiery finger at her. Then, in one loud explosion, she vanished in a puff of billowing smoke.

  The room went oddly silent as the flames completely disappeared.

  CHAPTER 10

  * * *

  “What happened?” Dickson exclaimed, running into the room upon hearing the explosion.

  Sonja stood there staring at the smoky cloud where the demonic woman of the flame had been just seconds before. She glanced at Frank, unsure of what to say.

  “There was a fire,” Frank snapped, still gripping the slight burn on his arm.

  Dickson’s jaw dropped as he examined the scene. The tile on the wall behind the stove was scorched and blackened, and the shelf now had a jagged edge—parts of the particle board having completely burned away.

  To top it all off, the front right burner had a big plastic blob on it which had melted through the metal coils and down into the gas well. The black warped display was the remains of the peanut bottle. It was completely unrecognizable.

  “How did a fire get started?” he shouted. Turning on them with a frustration in his eyes.

  Sonja looked to Frank, hoping he would answer the question. How could she explain this new situation without sounding insane? After all, she’d just witnessed some sort of ghost, demon, or poltergeist come to life in the fire.

  “What are you two gawking at?” he blurted out. “Answer my question.”

  The sheriff straightened up and regained his professional demeanor, despite his wound. “The stove suddenly just went up like the Fourth of July.” He held out his arm, as evidence. “I nearly got my arm caught on fire.”

  “A gas stove just doesn’t ignite itself,” he shot back, turning to look at the burnt mess.

  “Don’t tell us that,” Sonja replied. “We were the ones that were nearly caught in the inferno.”

  “When was the last time you had a complete safety check of the equipment?” Frank asked, his tone serious.

  “Last month,” Dickson informed him. “Why? Are you saying that the explosion was my fault?”

  “I’m just considering all the possibilities. Most accidents in the workplace come from lack of upkeep.”

  “Even if it was a malfunction of the stove,” Dickson pointed out, “how did you two manage to put it out? I don’t see a fire extinguisher anywhere, and I certainly don’t see the extinguisher foam that should be all over the stove if you had used one.”

  “You’ve hit the nail right on the head. Where is the fire extinguisher?” Frank pressed, looking around again and not seeing it.

  Kneeling on the floor near the stove, Dickson opened a metal cabinet and pulled the extinguisher out of its holder. “It’s right here.”

  “Hardly easy access in case of an emergency.”

  “Our kitchen staff know where all of the extinguishers are. Also, even if you had put it out, and it really was a malfunction, you wouldn’t have been able to stop the gas from leaking.” He sniffed the air like a dog. “And I don’t smell any fresh gas coming out.” It was clear to Sonja that Dickson was trying to throw any suspicion off of himself.

  “Now, look here,” Frank demanded, his patience growing thin. “I came here to help you, to help figure out what happened to your boss. I come back here to just have a look around and voom we almost get eaten up by a fire coming from this stove. What possible reason could I, as an officer of the law, have to start a fire?”

  “I didn’t say you did it on purpose.” The assistant’s nose wrinkled up distastefully. “But it does seem fishy,” he noted. “First Mr. Shakeman dies under strange circumstances, then the kitchen catches on fire, nearly destroying the building.”

  Sonja couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his over exaggeration. He hadn’t even been there for the fire, so how could he know?

  “Weren’t you the one who asked if Shakeman’s death was more than an accident,” Sonja said, “pointing your finger at Jake Pitman?”

  “I didn’t point any finger,” he defended himself. “I simply said that I saw him in here this morning with Mr. Handy, and the next thing I know, my boss keels over dead in his breakfast.” The man’s cheeks turned slightly red and his voice caught in his throat.

  “I know this is hard, but let’s just calm down,” Frank responded. “These were accidents.”

  “I just don’t understand it,” Dickson grunted, leaning on the counter as if he were worn out. He scowled, looking from one to the other. “Someone did this,” he deduced. “Somehow, someone started that fire. Maybe to burn down my restaurant.”

  “Your restaurant?” Sonja asked.

  The irritated expression on Dickson’s face faded for a moment.

  “Yes, what do you mean by that?” Frank pressed.

  He paused, as if not wanting to tell them the truth, “I stand to inherit the Firehouse Grill.”

  “I see.”

  Dickson sighed as if suddenly calmed down. “My apologies for my outburst.”

  He was back peddling, trying to cover his tracks. He clearly didn’t want to be considered as a suspect if this turned out to be murder.

  “I’m overwhelmed with the death of my boss, and then this fire just really doesn’t help. It sort of just set me off.”

  Frank gave the man a sympathetic look. “I understand. Now, perhaps we should conduct these interviews somewhere a little more . . . safe?” he suggested, motioning again to the burnt remains of the stove.

  “I’ll go and open the upstairs office,” Dickson offered, skittering off.

  Sonja and Frank looked at each other questioningly.

  CHAPTER 11

  * * *

  When Frank had finished getting everyone’s statements, he sent them on their way, staying behind to look over the scene and work with the coroner. More and more, despite Sonja’s first impression, this was looking like murder.

  On top of another homicide case, there also seemed to be a vengeful entity of some sort residing in the Firehouse Grill. Whether or not it was a main influence for the murder, no one knew—not yet anyway.

  The fiery ghost had left a significant mark on Sonja’s memory, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was the ghost protecting someone, working with someone even? Or did it just revel in fear and destruction?

  She didn’t like any of those answers.

  Sonja had her hands full and wasn’t sure where to start poking around for clues. She knew Frank would disapprove of her striking out on her own, especially since she had a good motive for killing him herself and was therefore a suspect. She decided that what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  Luckily, she had a strong alibi with Maddy for the morning, so that counted her ou
t.

  Meanwhile, there were three other main living suspects on her personal docket.

  First and foremost was Dickson. He had the strongest motive—even stronger than Sonja’s—for committing the murder. He inherited the Firehouse Grill, one of the most popular and lucrative businesses in the region. He also had plenty of opportunities to plant the peanut powder on the steak. He seemed to have intricate knowledge of Shakeman’s severe allergy, where the emergency allergy pen was, and how to administer it.

  Second on the list was the young host, Jake Pitman. He seemed like a quiet, mousy type, but sometimes you could never tell about someone. According to Frank, Jake had just recently lost his mother. On top of that, Shakeman had fired him in front of an entire restaurant full of people. If what Dickson had said was true, Jake had been in the kitchen that morning and had the opportunity to plant the peanut powder—but did he have knowledge of Tanner’s allergy?

  Finally, there was the cook, Thomas Handy. While there was no apparent motive, perhaps he had done it because he was angry about Jake getting fired. It wasn’t a strong reason for killing someone, but Sonja had seen crazier things. The more important element here was the fact that he had the easiest opportunity to plant the peanuts and was well informed on the allergy.

  Groaning wearily, Sonja climbed into her van while Maddy got in the passenger seat.

  “You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders,” she pointed out.

  “Tell me about it,” Sonja sighed. “Another investigation with potential ghost involvement? Worse than that, it’s for a man I personally disliked.”

  Maddy titled her head, “But you’re still going to do it?”

  “What else can I do? I’m already involved.”

  “I can see that,” Maddy agreed. “So, where to first?”

  Sonja pursed her lips while she thought. “Let’s try to find Jake Pitman.”

  CHAPTER 12

  * * *

  While Sonja drove, Maddy got on her smartphone and attempted to look up any Pitman’s in the Haunted Falls residential directory online. The data on the website wasn’t always kept completely up to date, and it was a long shot whether or not Jake and his deceased mother would be listed.

  “There is one Pitman. on Sandy Drive,” Maddy announced.

  “Got it,” Sonja confirmed, turning her van in the direction she knew Sandy Drive to be.

  While Haunted Falls was a small community, and Sonja knew many of her fellow neighbors and residents, there were always other people coming through whom she didn’t know. The Pitmans were one example of this. She hadn’t ever seen or met Jake before, and she’d heard nothing about the mother’s death.

  Sandy Drive was tucked away against the forest, just a line of older homes facing the thick darkness of the trees. Even in the daytime, the wooded area along the street seemed dark and foreboding—like an omen about the people who lived there.

  Sonja vaguely remembered visiting this street over a year ago to visit an older woman named Shelli. It had been connected to the very first murder case she had helped solve in Haunted Falls, and it was the first week she’d seen a ghost.

  She shivered at the memory and parked under the shadow of the trees across the street from the houses. “Okay, what number?”

  “1035,” Maddy replied, double checking the address on her phone.

  “Let’s go.” Sonja opened the door and climbing out. Maddy followed.

  The two women walked across the street toward the house, hoping someone would be home. The awning on the front porch sat at a slant, indicating that one of the support beams had broken at one time. Additionally, the concrete steps up to the porch were cracked and caved in, making them slightly difficult to mount.

  “Heck,” Maddy whispered as the approached the front door, “I wouldn’t be surprised if this place was haunted.”

  “It does look pretty run down, but it doesn’t mean there are any ghosts present.”

  Knocking on the old flaking wood of the door, they waited patiently.

  Soon, there was a creak of floorboards and someone approaching the front of the house. The door cracked open, revealing the young man Sonja remembered from the night before.

  “Yes?” he asked, looking cautiously from one woman to the other.

  “Hi,” Sonja greeted, attempting to put on a warm and welcoming smile. “I’m Sonja and this is Maddy.”

  “What do you want?” he asked, his voice sounding nervous.

  “Actually, I don’t know if you’re aware, but Tanner Shakeman passed away this morning.”

  At this comment, Jake opened the door wider, a look of honest surprise on his face. “He did?”

  “Unfortunately, so.”

  “Wow,” he whispered to himself, a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

  “We’re writing a piece for the newspaper on him,” Maddy lied, looking at Sonja with a raised eyebrow of comradery.

  Sonja hadn’t planned on lying, but now she felt the necessity to play along. “That’s right,” she agreed. “We wondered if we could ask you a few questions about him.”

  “Me?” he gasped, a suspicious line appearing between his eyebrows as he narrowed his gaze at them. “I hardly knew him.”

  Maddy continued the charade. “We’re trying to gather as much information on him as possible.”

  Jake looked both women over carefully as if trying to decide if he trusted them. “Wait a minute,” he pointed at Sonja.

  Her heart sped up as she realized she was probably caught.

  “Aren’t you the lady who owns The Waffle Diner and Eatery?”

  Sonja sighed, shaking her head. “Guilty as charged. You caught me,” she confessed.

  “So, you’re not writing an article on my dead boss?”

  “No,” she admitted. “We’re sorry for lying.”

  Slowly, Jake’s face lit up with a smile and he began to laugh.

  “We’re really sorry,” Maddy added, assuming he was ridiculing their poor performance.

  “No, really. It’s fine,” he confessed. “Any enemy of Tanner Shakeman is a friend of mine. Come on in.”

  He waved them across the threshold.

  Sonja took the opportunity and stepped inside, Maddy close behind.

  The inside of the house was far more put together than the outside. The living room was made up of a matching couch and two chairs. A flat screen TV was mounted on the wall with a gaming system displayed on a small ledge built into the wall next to it. Another shelf below the TV was full of movies and video games.

  A glass coffee table sat in the center of the room with a few hobby magazines sitting on it.

  “Do you two want something to drink?” he asked, walking over to a wooden hutch and opening it to reveal an intricate mini-bar.

  All this raised some questions for Sonja, but she decided she would need to hold onto them until a bit later in the conversation. If she just jumped in with all sorts of prying assumptions, Jake would very likely kick them out.

  “It’s a little early for me,” Maddy replied.

  “Me, too,” Sonja noted.

  “Coffee then?” he asked, motioning toward the kitchen, only separated from the living room by a short, half wall and a support beam.

  “Sure, thank you,” Sonja accepted.

  The young man walked in and turned the switch on his espresso machine sitting on the counter.

  “So, you like video games?” Sonja asked, trying to break the ice into her real set of questions slowly.

  “Love em’,” he said, pushing a few buttons on the machine, causing it to make a hissing and bubbling noise. “Fantasy games are my favorite.”

  “Oh?” Sonja asked. “On Friday’s I let people come and play fantasy board games at my diner.”

  “Sounds cool,” he noted, not really sounding that interested. “My mom didn’t always care for games, but she never stopped me from playing.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” Sonja offe
red.

  The trickling noise of coffee coming out of the machine into a mug filled the air. Soon, Jake was walking back into the living room with two steaming mugs in his hands and handed them to the girls.

  “I’m assuming you didn’t stop by just to talk about my hobbies,” he smiled, taking a seat in one of the chairs—ultimately skirting the issue of his mother.

  “You’d be right about that. We were actually wondering what you could tell us about Tanner Shakeman.”

  Jake shrugged, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the table. “I’m not really sure what there is to say. I didn’t know him very well.”

  “But you worked for him?”

  He huffed defiantly. “Yeah, for like two weeks. Then he fired me last night in front of a whole bunch of people. Made a big scene out of it.”

  “We were there,” Maddy informed him.

  “Then you know what I’m talking about. The guy was a pompous, power-hungry tyrant. He took any chance he got to put down the little guy.” He sighed and shook his head.

  Sonja had to agree there. She just couldn’t imagine being the sort of person who was willing to crush smaller businesses for the sake of pride alone. It was disturbing, for sure.

  “Was he often like that with you?” Maddy asked.

  “All the time. In fact, it felt like he was singling me out, most of the time,” he confessed.

  “Why?” Sonja pressed.

  “Not sure. Maybe he had a grudge with my mom or something.”

  The two women looked at each other with questioning eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, when I was really young, my Mom worked for him, too.”

  “She did?” Sonja gasped. “Doing what?”

  He shrugged. “Just a waitress, as far as I remember.”

  “And she quit?”

  “Yeah, she stopped working for him when I was probably five or so. I don’t really remember. She just told me about it.”