Eerie Irish Waffle (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 10) Read online

  Worried, Sonja headed into the empty shop space.

  Walking across the lower floor of the building toward the stairway, she spotted the bottle that Anna had been drinking from the night before sitting on the steps. Picking it up, Sonja decided to carry it upstairs with her. However, as she held the bottle, she caught a whiff of the remaining liquid inside.

  To her surprise, she didn’t smell much of anything. The strong alcoholic smell wasn’t anywhere present on this bottle.

  Shrugging it off, Sonja headed upstairs. “Anna?” she called. “Are you okay?”

  The whole apartment appeared to be in shambles, and for a moment Sonja had a sick feeling in her gut, thinking that maybe someone had broken in. The large black purse, still caked in dirt and grime, sat crumpled in the corner—empty.

  Then she spotted Anna in the corner, tearing through every drawer of her clothes like a wild animal.

  “Anna?” she greeted the woman again.

  Anna turned her head toward Sonja with a snap, her teeth barred and her brow furrowed.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “I’m Sonja Reed. I helped you home last night.”

  Instantly, recognition softened the woman’s features. “Oh, Sonja,” she sighed, relieved. “That’s right.”

  “The door was open downstairs. I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d stop and see how you were doing.”

  “Thank you,” she spoke sincerely, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry for snapping at you just now, and I’m sorry you had to see me in that state last night.”

  “No, it’s quite all right. I understand. Things must be hard for you right now.”

  Anna nodded, clearly trying to hold back any tears. “Losing Dobb is very hard.”

  “I’m sorry,” she offered her sympathy. Glancing around the room one more time, she couldn’t help but wonder why everything was in such a state of chaos. It hadn’t been when she’d helped Anna in the night before.

  “It’s nothing anyone can do anything about now,” the woman sighed, holding back tears. “I just have to go on living my life I suppose.”

  “So,” Sonja interjected, looking to change the subject. “Were you originally planning on doing anything with the shop space downstairs?”

  “The shop space?” The woman asked, going back to sorting through her things.

  “Yeah, usually people rent spaces like this so they can run a shop.”

  “Oh,” Anna exclaimed. “Right. Well, I was considering doing a soap shop or something,” she noted shrugging and continuing her search through the piles of stuff. “You didn’t happen to take anything last night, did you?” She asked.

  “No, did you misplace something?”

  Sighing, Anna sat back on the floor in a state of overwhelm. “Something that Dobb left for me. It’s gone completely missing,” she spoke with a shaky voice, her lip trembling with grief.

  “What was it you lost?” Sonja pressed, glancing back at the empty dirty purse again.

  “Something I have to find on my own,” Anna whispered, the tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. “And I hope I can find it soon, or I may just lose my mind.”

  * * *

  As Sonja left the building, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Anna. Losing a husband was bad enough, but misplacing a memorable item of that person’s was just like rubbing salt in the wound. However, her odd sense of curiosity couldn’t stop her from wondering what exactly it was that was lost.

  Additionally, there were a few other strange coincidences Sonja was having trouble pushing aside. She felt like she was so close to an answer to all of this she could almost taste it.

  Putting her key into the van door to unlock it, Sonja heard someone calling her name. Turning to face The Lucky Leprechaun, she spotted Cassiopeia walking toward her.

  “Cass,” she greeted the young woman with a smile. “How are you?”

  “Miss Sonja? I overheard some of what you two were talking about in there.”

  Sonja unconsciously folded her arms. “You did?”

  Cass nodded, “Not all of it, but, like, stuff about spirits and murders.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you really believe in all of that?”

  Sighing, Sonja tried to keep on a brave face. “Some of that probably sounds pretty crazy, huh?”

  “Can you answer my question, please?” she pleaded. “I just want you to answer me.”

  Stepping closer, Sonja put a hand on Cass’s shoulder. “You mean if I believe in ghosts and the supernatural?”

  Cass nodded.

  Swallowing hard, Sonja answered in a whisper. “I do.”

  “You do?” A wave of surprise and relief washed over the young woman.

  “Yes. All of it is more real than you could ever imagine,” Sonja indicated.

  “Sometimes,” Cass whispered, “I get feelings, deep in my gut. Bad feelings.”

  “Are you having a feeling like that right now?”

  “I-I saw you last night,” she said, not directly answering the question. “Bringing that drunk lady home.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.” She wrung her fingers together. “I saw her leave earlier in the evening.”

  “Why are you telling me?” Sonja pressed, wondering where this could be leading.

  “I-I just needed to tell you,” she paused, biting her thumbnail for a second.

  “You needed to tell me what?”

  “I needed to tell you that I have a really horrible feeling like something bad is going to happen.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It’s just sort of a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

  Sonja refrained from mentioning that she too got that same feeling whenever something sinister and supernatural was afoot.

  “Also,” Cass noted, “when she was leaving, she had this big bag. It was full of tools or something.”

  “Tools?” Sonja asked.

  “Yeah,” Cass nodded. “The bag had, like, a rake handle sticking out of it or something. For some reason, it really gave me the creeps.”

  “You didn’t happen to see what tools she was taking, did you?”

  “Just the handles. It could have been a rake, a shovel, or even a broom for all I know.”

  Sonja’s phone began to ring. Pulling it out, Sonja saw that it was Frank.

  “I’m sorry about this, Cass, but I really need to take this,” she admitted, her mind wandering back to the clearing in the forest.

  “I’m just worried.”

  “Don’t be,” Sonja winked at the girl. “We can talk more later.” She answered the phone and got into the van, not wanting Cass to overhear the conversation about a murder case when she was already so shaken.

  “But, Miss Sonja,” Cass blurted. “I’m afraid for your life.”

  CHAPTER 20

  * * *

  “I really hope you found something worthwhile,” Frank informed his girlfriend as he followed her through the misty woods.

  “Just hold your horses,” she replied, retracing her steps to find the exact spot where she’d found the hole in the ground the night before. Not only was she anxious to get a better look at the clearing, and whatever clues it may hold, but she was also slowly beginning to piece together a feasible answer to at least part of the mystery occurring in Haunted Falls.

  “And you said that you followed a little man out here?”

  “That’s right,” Sonja affirmed. “I believe it was the same man who has been going around town asking everyone questions about Dobb Blake.”

  “It’s certainly possible,” he agreed. “I’ve received complaints from multiple shop owners on Main Street that a man matching that description has been pestering patrons.”

  Knowing that this man was more real than magical sent a sense of calm over Sonja.

  “I haven’t been able to track him down myself,” Frank admitted, “but he may be our best le
ad to find anything out about this murder.”

  Sonja couldn’t agree more. She knew in her gut that all of this was somehow connected.

  After a few minutes of walking, the couple came to stand near the shimmering forest clearing.

  As the late morning sun filtered down among the trees, it illuminated the mist like dancing lights on the air. Little by little, the water came to rest atop the leaves of the green clovers growing there.

  Sonja instantly recognized the hole in the middle of the ground. “There it is,” she said, pointing to the hole, not entering the scene just in case there were clues to be found

  “Don’t move,” he instructed. Stepping past her, Sheriff Thompson carefully walked into the clearing and leaned over the hole.

  “There was a dirty backpack in there last night,” she commented. “As far as I could tell it was empty.”

  “Well,” he replied, slipping on a pair of latex gloves, “Let’s have a look.” Reaching down, he fumbled with something deep in the hole. “You said this backpack was empty last night?”

  “I’m almost one hundred percent positive.”

  “Because, it certainly doesn’t appear to be empty now,” he informed her, lifting the backpack out of the ground, the top flap opening far enough for her to see what was inside.

  Sonja's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in utter shock. The bag was filled with stack after stack of hundred dollar bills. “Holy smoke, that’s a ton of money,” she exclaimed.

  “And it all belongs to me,” came a familiar voice from behind Sonja.

  Spinning on her heel, Sonja was shocked to see a gun pointed at her chest.

  CHAPTER 21

  * * *

  “Anna Blake,” Sonja gasped, putting her hands up defensively.

  “Don’t act so surprised,” the woman, now dressed in boots, jeans, and a jacket jabbed the gun into the amateur sleuth’s chest, forcing her to take a step back.

  “What is this?” Frank asked, going for his gun.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she shouted, waving the gun at him.

  Carefully, he lifted his hands away from the weapon, but not too far from it.

  “What’s this all about,” Frank demanded again.

  “It’s about the money, of course.”

  “You followed me out here?” Sonja asked.

  “What did you expect,” she snapped. “You thought you could just steal my money and I wouldn’t figure it out?”

  “Steal your money?” Sonja blurted out with a laugh. “I certainly wasn’t the one who took it.”

  “Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Anna growled, motioning with her gun for Sonja to move closer to Frank. “You’re the only person who had even the most remote chance to grab the money from me.”

  “You mean because you dug it up last night and took it back to your apartment in your purse, and I was the only one who saw you last night?”

  “I knew you took it,” she barked.

  Sonja shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong. I didn’t take the money, but I am very observant.”

  “Don’t play dumb. You took the money and were planning on giving it to this cop friend of yours. I was just going to wait until you showed me where the money was and then steal it back, but once I knew the police were involved,” she motioned toward the gun, “I knew I had to take immediate action.”

  “I’m not playing dumb,” Sonja shrugged. “I just know you were the one to take the money from the hole here,” she paused for dramatic effect, “and the one who killed your husband.”

  “You can’t prove that,” she sneered.

  “You may be a very good actress, Anna, but you’re not going to act your way out of this one.”

  “I won’t need to act,” she proudly defied the accusation, waving the gun around.

  “I’m sure that purse of yours will have dirt on it to match this hole, and that gun in your hand will match the bullet that killed your husband.”

  “Fat chance,” she screamed, firing off a round into the dirt at Sonja’s feet.

  Squeaking slightly, Sonja mostly held her ground.

  “Woah, woah,” Frank shouted. “Let’s not get too trigger happy here, okay? I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she sing-songed. “No one is going to find this gun as long as I’m alive.”

  “When I ran into you last night,” Sonja continued her accusation, “I didn’t know exactly who you were. I had only heard about you from my business partner, Alison. She told me that you came into the diner looking for your husband yesterday morning.”

  “What of it?”

  “Was your husband dead at that point?”

  “Maybe he was,” she bragged.

  “Coming into the diner was your way of throwing suspicion off yourself,” Sonja speculated. “The concerned wife seeking her husband who was supposed to be delivering milk. Alison is one of the most honest people in Haunted Falls and she would vouch for you.” Sonja shrugged.

  “It’s true,” Frank added. “Alison verified your whereabouts at the diner that morning.”

  “Then last night, were you pretending to be drunk so it would seem that you were sincerely depressed about your husband?”

  “I’m not a bad actress if I do say so myself. I couldn’t have people knowing the truth, that I was out digging around in the woods for money.”

  “Another ploy to throw suspicion off yourself—in case anyone like me found the burial site.”

  “Is that why you killed your husband?” Frank asked, “Because you knew he had money hidden away?”

  Anna’s face twisted in frustration, showing that she was clearly annoyed with the interrogation currently happening. “Of course,” she argued. “I shot him and won’t hesitate to shoot either of you.”

  “You went as far as to pour out your bottle of alcohol onto your clothes so you would stink, and then what? Filled the bottle with water afterward. I smelled your bottle earlier, and it didn’t smell like alcohol.”

  “If I was drunk, I might give something away I didn’t mean to.”

  “But you still did anyway, didn’t you?”

  At this insult of her acting skills, Anna’s face grew red with anger. “Shut up, you little witch. No matter what you say, I’m going to kill you.”

  “Anna,” Frank commented coolly, “You don’t want to do this. I’m an officer of the law.”

  “Like I’ve ever cared about the cops before.”

  “You mean because you and your husband used to work for the mob in Chicago?”

  Anna’s face scrunched up angrily. “How do you know that?”

  “Even though you weren’t drunk last night, you still managed to make a slip.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You said the name ‘Danny’ when you were talking about your husband. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, just assumed you were confused in your drunkenness. However, later when I was doing some research online about the mob in Chicago, specifically about The Little Terror,”

  Upon hearing this name, the woman physically cringed.

  “I found out that the last two assignments given to him before he was sent off to jail were for a couple named Aria and Daniel Benson. That’s you and your husband’s real names.”

  “So, what if it is?” she challenged Sonja. “What if we just wanted a fresh start?”

  “You both were working for the mob and you both stole money from them. That’s what is in that backpack right? And you wanted it all for yourself.”

  “Of course, I did,” she screamed, her hand beginning to tremble. “He wanted to bury it back here for good, just leave it here. He was afraid it would bring bad luck or karma or some crap like that. I couldn’t let all that money just disappear.” Her eyes were turning a painful shade of red, tears welling up inside. “It was Danny or the money.” Swallowing hard, the first tear rolled down her cheek. “I chose the money.”

  “But you’
d never killed anyone before,” Sonja pointed out, noticing the lack of confidence in the manner she held the weapon.

  “Danny was a runner,” Aria admitted. “All he did was deliver money when it was necessary. Neither one of us ever had to kill someone with our own hand.”

  “Until yesterday morning.”

  She was quiet for a second, doing a decent job of holding back tears. “That’s right. My first ever killing was my own husband. I was tired of going from state to state, trying to find a hiding place. I wanted to live a decent life with that money, somewhere safe from the mob, from the cops, from everyone. Danny wanted to stay put here in this nothing town, wanted to bury the money forever. So, I killed him.”

  “That was the wrong choice,” Frank replied.

  “Doesn’t matter now,” she croaked, the tears now flowing down her face freely, the gun shaking in her hands. “Because I’m going to kill both of you and take the money. By the time anyone finds your bodies, I’ll be long gone.” She pulled the hammer back on the pistol. “Say goodbye.”

  Sonja shut her eyes tight and waited for the gunshot. Suddenly, she felt Frank forcing her to the ground with his weight on top of her, just as the shot went off, echoing above their heads.

  Suddenly, Anna’s screamed filled the air.

  Frank got off his girlfriend and scrambled to his feet and paused.

  Opening her eyes, Sonja saw Anna on the ground, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. A small trickle of blood ran from a puncture wound in her chest.

  “W-What happened?” Sonja asked.

  “I don’t know,” Frank admitted. “I pushed you to the ground to protect you from the bullet, so I didn’t see.”

  Pausing, she looked at the woman. She wasn’t moving.

  “Is she dead?”

  Carefully, drawing his weapon, Frank approached the body and felt her pulse. “She’s dead.”

  “How?” Sonja asked. Then she glanced down and saw something lying in the hole with the money. It was the leprechaun statue. Next to him was an ancient looking bloodied knife.