Pumpkin Pie Waffle: Book 5 in The Diner of the Dead Series Page 5
“Oh, I see,” the dark haired woman muttered, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. “I could have sworn I felt something evil nearby.”
“Dear,” Beatrice nodded, touching her niece on the shoulder, “if they’re closing the school, we really should be going.”
Sonja tilted her head, examining the two women.
“Aunt Bella got a ride down here, said she didn’t want to sit in that big old house alone.”
“I can understand that,” Sonja agreed. She had only been in Belinda’s mansion once, and it had been quite a frightening experience.
“Anyway, we really should go,” the niece said reluctantly.
“Do you mind staying and watching the booth, just for another minute? I have to run outside and talk to Frank before we start to clean up.”
“Sure,” Belinda replied with a smile, clearly thrilled to stay a little longer. If only she knew what was really going on, she might not be so eager to stay in the school.
Beatrice’s face twisted in a subtle scowl, clearly unsatisfied to stay any longer at the middle school.
“Thanks, I’ll be quick,” Sonja said, turning to go. The administrators were shouting and gathering the kids into groups in the background—teachers escorting their specific classes to the parking lot.
“Let me walk you out,” Beatrice declared—much to Sonja’s surprise—standing up. “I’d like to personally thank you for the meal this morning.”
Somehow, Sonja suspected that there was more to it than that.
“I’ll be right back, Belinda. Then we can go.”
The two women headed for the door, walking for a moment in silence. Finally, Beatrice cut in with the truth of the matter.
“Belinda seems to have taken quite a liking to you,” she spoke quietly. “I can see why. You’re a nice girl.”
It clearly wasn’t a compliment, having been said with somewhat of a snap in her voice.
“And you’re her only friend, I believe?”
Sonja hated to admit it, but it was true. “Yes,” she replied quietly. “Most people steer clear of her and the mansion.”
“But not you,” Beatrice replied with a wiggle of her eyebrow.
“Yes, I occasionally visit Belinda while she is at work in the library.”
A few months’ back Belinda had begun to volunteer at the local library, an old building which was purportedly haunted. She had helped Sonja on multiple occasions in finding books or doing research.
“I thank you for your patience with her.”
“Patience?” Sonja injected, stopping to face the older woman.
Beatrice gave a somewhat sinister, and somehow knowing, smile. “My dear, you won’t convince me that you’re spending time with Belinda out of the kindness of your heart, and you definitely won’t convince me you truly consider her a “friend.””
Now on full defense, she folded her arms. “I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at,” Sonja snapped.
“Oh, I think you do, dear,” the woman replied coldly. “To any normal, sane person—which you appear to be—it would be clear that my dear niece isn’t . . . how would you say it, “all there?””
Her jaw dropping open, Sonja couldn’t help but be offended for her friend. “Excuse me?”
“She’s a dreamer, thinks she can see things, makes up stories.” Beatrice threw her hand in the air dramatically, obviously mocking her niece. “Did she, or did she not, tell you that I was a witch?”
Sonja hesitated to answer, biting her lower lip.
“That’s what I assumed,” Beatrice replied. “You see, she saw me change into my Halloween costume,” she posed, motioning to her witch hat and black dress. “After we left your little diner this morning, I decided that, despite my reservations, I would get in to “the spirit of things.””
A slight sickness began to well up in Sonja’s stomach, a gut reaction to this woman’s blatant rudeness.
“After I got dressed, she instantly created a wild story about me being a real life witch.”
If Sonja hadn’t known any better, she would say this woman was a real life witch—and not the Halloween kind.
“It’s no different than the stories she makes up about speaking to her dead father or communicating with other ghosts. She’s even gone so far as to believe you have summoned ghosts—said you had a séance together.”
“That’s true,” Sonja insisted.
“And you’ve just played along with her wild stories—like an adult with a child.”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Sonja interrupted a little more rudely than she intended, “but what is your point?”
“My point is, darling, that you’re just playing along in the hope of getting some of her money—maybe be part of the inheritance.”
Taking a step back, the young woman audibly gasped.
“Oh, don’t act so shocked. Any normal person would easily be tempted,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t blame you, but I do insist that you stop your pursuit as of now. Do you understand?”
Sonja balled her hands into fists, trying desperately to hold back her rage. “No, I do not understand,” she retorted. “I have done nothing but befriend Belinda, with no intention or thought of monetary gain on my part, and I have no intention to stop being her friend.”
Beatrice looked the diner owner up and down. “I see. In that case, I’ll have to resort to other measures. Goodbye.” Turning on her heel, the woman walked back toward the table—where Belinda was already gathering up the food—her hair and dress flowing behind her almost as if drawn by a non-existent wind.
Shivering from a sudden chill, Sonja could only wonder what Beatrice’s “other measures” might be.
CHAPTER 13
Walking outside into the chilly autumn air, Sonja spotted the Frank leaning against his police cruiser, talking into his radio with his uniform jacket wrapped around his body. It was definitely getting colder, and all the kids would need to wear heavy coats over their costumes during trick or treating that night—if there would even be any trick-or-treating.
“Hey,” she greeted, giving him a wave.
“Hi,” he replied, standing up straight and putting his radio away.
“Look,” Sonja jumped in, not waiting for his lecture. “I’m sorry I went back into the haunted house before you got there,” she said in her own defense. “Whether or not it really was the Halloween Kidnapper, in the moment it seemed like what needed to happen.”
“Sonja,” Frank loudly interrupted.
Cringing, she waited to be berated.
“I think you did the right thing,” he confirmed.
Eyes widening in genuine shock, Sonja felt her body relax—not realizing how tense she had been ever since she saw the masked man in the haunted house. “You do?”
“Yes, I asked for your help for a reason,” he replied. “After the last four murder cases in this town, I trust your instinct more than anyone’s—even my own sometimes.”
Sonja was taken aback. Over the past several months, as she’d been caught up in multiple cases, she was always met with adversity on Frank’s part. She never once expected him to come around to trusting her a little more—despite the fact that they were now dating.
“It could have very well been him in there. We just don’t know yet. That’s why we called the state police to intervene. They would have been here sooner, but snow and the accident in the upper pass are slowing them down.”
“I see,” she responded, a little dumbfounded and unable to think of anything meaningful to say.
“Once they’re here, we’ll do another full sweep of the school and the surrounding area for the girl.”
“I understand, Frank,” she whispered, smiling a little to herself.
The sound of tires on pavement came from across the parking lot. Glancing over, the couple both spotted a police cruiser with an unfamiliar symbol on the door. “Looks like the sheriff and his deputies from Hickey.” Hickey was the next town over from Haunted Fall
s. “The state asked them to come over right away since they were closer.”
Nodding at his fellow officers, Frank began to walk their way. “Alright, I still want you to keep an eye out. If you see that guy in the mask again, you call me right away or tell the deputies. Got it?”
Smiling, she nodded. “Got it.”
“Okay,” he confirmed. “I’ll see you later.” Leaning in, he gave his girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”
Frank was obviously testing boundaries, seeing how close he was to getting his first kiss. While Sonja still wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet, she couldn’t help blushing a little as her uniformed boyfriend walked toward his fellow officers.
CHAPTER 14
After packing up the van with the help of a few students, Sonja returned to the diner to get ready for the evening's festive activities, if there were going to still be any.
On her way out of the parking lot, Sonja noticed two of the three brides of Dracula climbing into a car—probably one of their parents. Marissa still wasn’t with them and it made her worried.
The two boys were close behind, clearly trying to act as if they were hanging out with them, but a teacher quickly pulled them back to wait until their own ride arrived.
“Those poor boys,” Sonja whispered. “They don’t stand a chance.”
Over the radio in the van, she heard another announcement about precautions for the evening—a message from the sheriff to be read to the entire township. “Due to a police search in the area for the alleged Halloween Kidnapper, we want to reiterate to parents that no children under the age of eighteen may be out trick-or-treating or participating in other Halloween activities unless accompanied by an adult. Any children found without a chaperone will be immediately taken home. Tonight, all town citizens are required to be indoors by ten o’clock.”
When Sonja stepped in the back door of the diner, her best friend and business associate, Alison, was already hard at working getting food ready for that evening.
They were planning to hand out pumpkin waffle samples to all the trick or treaters who happened to come by the diner that night, as well as a candy alternative for those children who didn’t want a waffle or couldn’t have one for whatever reason.
When Sonja was younger she herself had been allergic to peanuts, which meant she couldn’t have many of the Halloween candies. She always appreciated the neighbors who took the time out to make sure they had a substitute candy for situations just like that.
She had since grown out of her peanut allergy but wanted to offer the same courtesy to children who may be allergic to wheat or something similar.
“Hiya, Sonj’” Alison beamed as her friend entered the kitchen. “You’re back early.”
It was clear Alison hadn’t heard anything about the school evacuation yet.
“I’ve got more than half of the waffles done for tonight.” She motioned to the counter which was covered by countless pumpkin waffles—each one in the shape of a pumpkin no less.
“How’d you get them to look like that?” Sonja exclaimed excitedly.
“Well,” her friend smiled from ear-to-ear, “I got you a little present.” Walking over she revealed the new waffle iron, still hot and cooking a fresh batch. “It makes four waffles in the shape of pumpkins.”
“Wow,” Sonja replied. “That’s amazing. Where did you get it?”
“Online. I know Halloween is your favorite holiday, so I planned ahead and ordered it a month ago.”
She had to admit, she was consistently impressed by her best friend, and this really helped to brighten her otherwise stressful holiday. “You’re amazing; you know that?”
“Thank you,” Ally replied with a little curtsey. “So, how was the party at the middle school?”
Sonja’s smile faded a little. “Worse than you could imagine,” she begrudgingly admitted.
“Hectic?” her friend inquired.
“That would be an understatement,” Sonja replied.
Going into the details of the situation, she confided in her friend about the potential presence of the Halloween Kidnapper at the school—which she quickly realized was a mistake. Alison became overwhelmed with worry for her own little daughter who was at home that night with Alex, her dad.
“I’m going to call Alex and tell him to not answer the door tonight. Trick-or-treaters can just get their candy at other houses.”
Sonja sighed. “I’m sorry I said anything, Ally,” she said consolingly. “I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about. Alex is smart enough not to open the door for anyone suspicious.”
“Thanks, but I’m still going to tell him.”
Sonja couldn’t blame her. She knew that the potential presence of the Halloween Kidnapper, especially with state police in the area, might just shut down Halloween. However, she didn’t see any problem with Cynthia and Alex staying in for the night and not answering the door.
Once Alison had made her call, she seemed to calm down again and get back into the spirit of cooking waffles.
“So, Frank kissed me,” Sonja broke in, attempting to change the harrowing mood.
“What?” Alison replied excitedly. “Do tell!”
“Well, there isn’t much to tell,” Sonja confided. “It was just a peck on the cheek.”
“Oh,” Alison responded, a sly smile turning up one corner of her mouth. “It sounds like he’s testing the waters.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” she replied. “I just think . . .” she hesitated.
Ally opened the pumpkin waffle maker and slid out four perfect looking waffles. “You just think what?”
“Well, I’m not really ready yet.”
Placing the pumpkins on the platter, Ally raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Not ready for kissing yet?”
Nodding, Sonja finally pulled her apron on and headed over to help with the cooking process. “Yeah.”
“Well,” Alison commented. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.” She poured a little light orange batter into each of the four slots. “But, keep in mind he is a man.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked as she poured some flour into a bowl and began making a new batch of batter.
“Well, it just means he won’t wait around forever.”
“Hey,” Sonja protested. “We’ve not been dating that long, and it’s not like we’re in love with each other.”
Allison shook her head, clearly stifling a laugh. “I’m sorry, Sonj’. I didn’t mean he was in love with you. He likes you, though, and is going to want to express it. Besides, kissing is fun.”
Sonja added in a helping of pumpkin to the batter. “Well, for the time being, he’ll have to find more creative ways to express it, and if he can’t, then this whole thing is off.”
“I’m sure that whatever you want, he’ll understand,” Ally offered, attempting to calm her friend. “You're so touchy about romance.”
Sonja had to agree there. It was one big reason why she almost hadn’t told her friend about the kiss. “I think you’re right. I think he will understand.”
“There ya’ go,” Alison replied.
“In fact, you’ll never guess what he said to me.”
“What?” her best friend pressed, eager for more details on the newly blossomed romance.
Sonja explained how Frank had responded earlier in the parking lot, how he had told he trusted her intuition.
Alison just smiled wryly in reply.
“What?” Sonja asked.
“I told you months ago, you two are a perfect match.”
Sonja couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Grabbing a whisk, she went to work on the batter, smoothing it out.
* * *
Darkness had just fallen when the two women finished setting up out front. They had already had a few trick-or-treaters, accompanied by parents of course, but Sonja knew that the bulk of them would be coming after dark. Most children ate dinner before going out trick
-or-treating, and now, just around six, was when Halloween traffic really picked up.
However, she wouldn’t have been surprised if many of the parents had decided to not let their kids go out at all that night.
“Trick or treat,” shouted a group of elementary age kids, all dressed as princesses and pirates, accompanied by an adult.
“Here you go,” Alison said as she held out little plates of pumpkin waffle.
“There’s candy, too,” Sonja announced, holding out the little wrapped packets of sweets.
“Thank you,” the kids all replied as they received their little bit of Halloween cheer. It made her happy to see their smiling faces. Everyone always said that Christmas was a magical time, but in Sonja’s opinion, so was Halloween.
She looked down, analyzing how many waffles they had out under the heat lamps, hoping they had enough for all the kids in town.
Glancing up again, her heartbeat sped up to a brisk and uneasy pace as she peered down the road leading to the bottom of the hill. Standing just outside the parking lot, was the man in the black cloak and skull mask.
“Is something wrong?” Allison asked, noticing how pale her friend now looked.
Acting quickly, she put the tray of sweets down and grabbed her cell phone from her pocket, her hands shaking the whole time. Dialing Sheriff Thompson’s number, she was stopped dead when the phone began to ring in her hand. Ironically, it was Frank.
“F-Frank, I was just trying to call you.”
“Sonja, what are you doing right now?” he asked.
“Uh, handing out goodies to trick-or-treaters, but I have something important . . .”
“I need your help,” he continued, not listening to her.
“Frank, listen.”
“Marissa is still missing.”
Sonja stopped cold. “Wait, what?”
“Marissa Hamilton.”
“She never came home?” Sonja almost shouted, her heart thundering in her chest.
“I’ve already officially opened this as a missing person case,” he replied. “Marissa never came home after she left for school today, we didn’t find her in our sweeps of the school, and neither of her best friends has seen her. They were supposed to meet up to go trick or treating together.”