Christmas Waffle Caper Read online

  “Don’t give me that. I know darn well this is your signature.” She pointed at the smudge.

  “Well, I’m telling you it isn’t,” he insisted.

  “How did you know it was smudged?” Sonja cut in, folding her arms as she looked at him.

  He paused again, trying to formulate an answer. “I just saw it, that’s all.”

  “But you said you couldn’t see it from standing up here on the top of the stairs,” Frank added. He looked down at the paper himself. “Heck, I can’t see it from here.”

  “S-So what?” he demanded.

  “You told Terrance that Annabeth was found wandering the woods in nothing but her pajamas, jiggering on while hauling a bag of stolen items. You said the police picked her up and she ended up at the institute at their doing.”

  Frank frowned. “Is that so? I’m pretty sure that isn’t how it works. The police can’t have a random suspect committed.”

  “T-They must have been corrupt cops or something. That’s what happened,” Pritchard tried to continue his poor excuses.

  Bethany shook her head. “No, she was never picked up by the police, was she? You and Corrine worked together, had your own daughter committed.”

  “I would never do that,” he barked, his face turning a fresh shade of scarlet.

  “Oh, let it go, Prichard. You always were a terrible liar,” Corrine reprimanded.

  “Your own daughter, and what the devil for? To take over the money?” Bethany pressed.

  Sonja and Frank turned their eyes on the man. “The money?” Frank asked, more and more curious about this whole convoluted family drama playing out before their eyes.

  “You couldn’t stand that your own sister left her entire fortune to Annabeth when she died, instead of leaving it to you or me.”

  At this comment, Pritchard exploded like a ticking bomb, the redness in his face becoming so dramatic that it looked like he might pass out. “Of course, I was mad. How many years had I scrimped and saved, working menial jobs—retail, fast-food, call service—just to get by? My successful sister never once lifted a finger to help me once, but she doted on my daughter simply because she didn’t have one of her own.” He was breathing heavily now, like a rabid dog.

  Sonja stepped up a stair and spoke. “Did your father find out about what you did this evening because your daughter escaped? Did the truth come out then?”

  “The fool answered the phone before Corrine or I. The darn doctor blabbed, thinking he knew this whole time.” He shivered, looking down at his feet as fresh tears rolled from his face. “I couldn’t have him telling the truth.”

  Frank shook his head. “Pritchard Devonworth, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

  CHAPTER 16

  * * *

  “They found Annabeth Devonworth passed out in the snow in the middle of the woods near the cabin,” Frank informed Sonja as he took a seat next to her on the couch in her cottage home. He set a fresh tray of steaming Peppermint Christmas Waffles on the coffee table. They had the TV all set up to watch Christmas in Connecticut, one of Sonja’s favorite classic movies.

  A brick fireplace held a roaring fire the gave off heat to the chilly room. Sonja had her feet, adorned in penguin patterned wool socks, leaned as close to the flames as she dared, warming the bottoms of them.

  She’d set up her trusty artificial tree—with branches of white and silver—in the corner near a bookcase. The matching white lights twinkled from within, spreading their cheer over every ornament and piece of hanging tinsel. Silver and gold glass balls were gently hanging from the branches.

  The old radio in the corner was softly playing a Christmas tune to finalize the scene. Sonja had to admit, she was sure happy to be back in her own home after the strange and spooky events at the cabin the previous night.

  “So, she’s alive?” Sonja asked, reaching out and picking up one of the little serving size waffles. The mixture of aromas was almost too much and her mouth was watering already.

  “Yep. She had hypothermia and the early stages of frostbite, but overall she’s going to come out of everything okay.”

  “Wow, I can’t imagine how uncomfortable she must have been.”

  “Well, to walk as many miles as she did through the mountains to get that close to the cabin is almost unreal.”

  Sonja heisted on her next question. “Will she go back to the institute?”

  “It’s doubtful since the commitment was made under false pretenses by her parents. For now, she’s staying at the cabin with her grandmother. Corrine is being held on criminal neglect, falsifying information, and a couple other things.”

  “I thought the grandma had dementia.”

  “According to her, she started suspecting her son and daughter-in-law’s little scheme early on. They retaliated by telling everyone she did have dementia. I guess she just decided to start playing it up to keep a cover while she and her husband tried to figure out what really happened ten years ago.”

  “And it looks like Terrance did find out.”

  Frank nodded. “Yep. I feel bad for the old guy.”

  “I feel bad for the grandmother and Annabeth.”

  “Luckily, they have each other at this point. The control of the money should return to her once all of this is officially cleared up.”

  Sonja leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. “Boy, Frank, I’m so glad to have you in my life. You love me so much and would never dream of doing anything like that.”

  Putting his arm around his fiancée, she squeezed her tight. “Happy to be here for you.” Kissing her on the head, he gave her a mischievous smirk.

  “What?” she pressed.

  “There is still one thing I forgot to tell you about the case.”

  “Oh?” she gasped, raising both eyebrows in sincere curiosity. “What’s that?”

  “I told you so.”

  “You told me so?”

  “As soon as I saw the number six-six-six on that house, I told you there would be trouble.”

  Groaning, Sonja scooted down into the couch cushions. “Yes, yes, you were right. Maybe I should start trusting your supernatural instincts over my own.”

  “Now, I wouldn’t go that far. Not yet.” He picked up the TV remote. “Ready for the movie?”

  “I just have one more question, Mr. Ghost Whisperer.”

  Frank rolled his eyes. “What’s that?”

  “Well, if she wasn’t dead, and she wasn’t actually in the cabin, how did I see her?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. You’re the paranormal specialist, not me. Maybe she got close enough to death to come and see her grandmother for a moment and to give the paper to you.”

  Sonja smiled and nodded. “You know, you don’t give yourself enough credit. With a little more practice, you could make a tried and true paranormal investigator. We could be a team.”

  Frank twisted his mouth to one side. “We’ll have to see about that, I guess,” he chuckled reluctantly.

  Sonja finally bit into the tasty waffle she’d been holding onto the whole conversation. “Oh, my goodness, Frank. These are great.”

  “I did an okay job with your recipe?”

  “Everything tastes better when you don’t have to make it yourself.” She held up the treat and took another bite, savoring it. “And you made these with love.”

  “It’s hard not to when it’s your recipe,” he joked.

  “But I think you did forget something,” she said.

  Frank raised an eyebrow. “I did?”

  “Yep. The hot chocolate.”

  Laughing heartily, he stood up. “Two hot chocolates coming right up. Then it’s movie time!”

 

 

 
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