Fireworks and Waffles (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 18) Page 7

  “I’m sorry, but I’m your father. Frank’s your boyfriend. What do you expect us to do?”

  “Have a little more faith in my abilities.” Overwhelmed with the sudden urge to cry, an act that would not help her case here, she grabbed the burger and took a huge bite. She knew that a part of the reason for her outburst was her accident. She was tired, stiff, and in pain. Worse yet, there was a murderous witch on the loose and Sonja had no idea who it was. Was it Trivilli’s wife who had secretly gone into hiding? Was it Carol, who somehow had the magical ability to be in two places at once? Or was it someone else completely?

  She was getting irritated with this whole situation.

  “Alright. You’re completely right. You’re an adult and you can make your own decisions.” He stood up and folded his arms. “But as a father, I still have the right to be worried.”

  She nodded, her mouth still full of burger.

  “But please, at least do a salt protection ritual on this room or something? I don’t want anything getting in.”

  Sonja swallowed. “Sure thing, Dad.”

  Suddenly, the door opened and Frank stepped in, toting the radio with him. “Here it is,” he announced. Upon seeing Sonja’s father, he stopped in place. “Oh, hi Mr. Reed.”

  “This is the radio?” her father asked.

  “Your dad knows about it?” Frank gasped.

  Sonja nodded, not sure if she could handle them both at the same time. The dull headache wasn’t helping. “Yes, my dad knows. Where is Belinda?”

  “That’s what I wanted to tell you. The head librarian told me she was out on an extended camping trip.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “She’s camping.”

  “But I just saw her this morning.”

  Frank set the radio down on the table at the foot of her bed. “Well, that isn’t possible. She’s supposedly been gone for over two weeks now.”

  CHAPTER 13

  * * *

  Sonja lay wide awake staring at the ceiling of her hospital room, dark shadows playing above her. The nurse had shut off the lights and Sonja knew she should be trying to get some rest, but her mind wouldn’t let her. There were too many things that confused her to make her comfortable enough to rest.

  First and foremost, she had Belinda on her mind. Why would her friend claim to be on an extra-long camping trip, only to appear randomly at the Fourth of July parade? Was she lying or had Sonja just been dead wrong about actually seeing her friend?

  It would explain why the woman whom she thought was Belinda scowled and ran off.

  Still, Sonja wasn’t ready to accept that explanation yet. She was almost positive she’d seen Belinda.

  Besides the strange behavior of her friend, there was the radio and its doomsday predictions. Glancing over at the old thing, she examined it, wondering if there was the same type of crystal inside.

  Most important, however, was the question of the murderer. Was the person who killed Mr. Trivilli really the same person who had pushed her over the balcony? Was it really the witch of Haunted Falls?

  Sonja thought of Tina Trivilli again. She didn’t know much about the woman, but could she actually be a murderer and a witch? Was it just her husband’s money she was after or was there something more sinister in the works?

  Of course, there was Carol, whom Sonja felt like was an unlikely suspect. However, she couldn’t be sure. After all, the woman did have the easiest access to the float and the best knowledge of pyrotechnics. While she was with Frank during the time Sonja was attacked, it didn’t mean she wasn’t working with someone else, or that—if she was really a witch—could split herself into two or something.

  Sonja didn’t know what kind of dark magic witches were truly capable of. However, she was learning new and frightening things every day and was less and less surprised about what the supernatural world was capable of.

  Suddenly, a strange green glow projected itself onto the ceiling, making the whole room light up like some spooky underwater scene. Blinking with confusion, Sonja turned to see that the little crystal that her father had brought into the room was glowing.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs as she watched it pulse with otherworldly energy. What would a stone like that do if not conducted through a source like the radio? Against her better judgment, Sonja found herself reaching out for the crystal—partially to block the light, partially to keep the nurse in the hall from seeing the strange phenomenon and coming to investigate.

  Gripping it in the palm of her hand the light vanished in between her fingers. Her whole arm began to tingle, running like little spiders up and down across her skin. Instantly realizing that grabbing the stone was a mistake, and wanting to rid herself of the creepy crawling feeling pulsing further and further into her body, she tried to let go.

  Her hand refused to open.

  Instead, it remained clamped firmly shut around the strange and paranormal object, letting it feed strange pulses of ethereal energy into her body.

  The tingling and crawling moved up into her shoulder and into her torso. “No, no, no,” she whispered, trying to use her free hand to pry her fingers apart. It was no use. They were clamped shut like an iron vice.

  The crystal seemed to have some sort of limited control over her body, and she was concerned that the more the energy spread, the more control it would exert.

  The crawling moved up her neck, giving the sensation that someone’s hand was upon her throat, threatening to choke her.

  Sonja wanted to call out for help but realized her voice had been constrained by the unseen force. All she could manage was a quiet, painful croak.

  With her free hand, she reached out toward the open doorway as if willing herself toward it, but it was no use.

  The sensations became more intense as if thousands of spiders were clawing their way under her skin and burrowing there. Slowly, they entered her skull, creeping over her brain and causing all her thoughts to black out.

  Soon after, her vision followed suit.

  * * *

  Falling into an empty void, Sonja recognized the sensation of being outside of her own body. She’d been able to use astral projection in the past, and this seemed similar. However, instead of floating over her own body or in a familiar location all she could see around her was inky darkness.

  It was like swimming in a deep ocean at midnight, the waves tossing her body lazily about.

  After a few moments, she felt firm ground form beneath her bare feet—cold and hard like stone.

  Slowly, the dark hazy atmosphere began to lift and the image of a small room began to appear around her. Blinking away the smoke, she gasped. She was in the basement of the library, in the small stone room that was used for the occult archive of books.

  How did she get here? Why was she down here?

  A muffled cry, one that sounded all too familiar, drew her attention. As she turned, she found herself facing an opening in the wall.

  She gasped, her mouth dropping open.

  Having been down in the small room countless times, doing research with Belinda on topics of ghosts, curses, and witches, she had never seen this opening here before. One of the bookshelves had been pushed backward and then slid partway into the stone, revealing a torchlit staircase leading even further downward into the earth.

  The crying noise was coming from down those steps. Sonja realized where she recognized it from. It was the same muffled cries she had heard on the radio.

  She had no other choice. She had to head down those steps.

  Carefully making her descent along the narrow stone clad stairwell, she could see a low glowing flicker of firelight from below.

  Coming to the bottom of the stairs she found herself in a tiny dungeon-like room. A little square table fashioned out of wood sat in the center of the room, a singular candle burning there, casting eerie shadows.

  Sonja spotted the woman who she recognized as Tina Trivilli tied up in the corner next to an indentation in the stone wall
which seemed to house some sort of altar.

  “Tina,” Sonja gasped. “I’m here to help you.”

  The woman in the chair didn’t give any clue that she could see or hear Sonja. Glancing at Tina’s feet, Sonja noticed the fireworks tied to the chair, her ankles, and her legs.

  Instantly, she knew the truth. This was a vision of the future. This was exactly what she had heard on the radio before.

  Looking down at her hand, she saw that she was still holding the crystal. Finally, able to open her grip, the stone tumbled from her hand and the vision vanished.

  CHAPTER 14

  * * *

  Stumbling out of the dream like a person coming out of a drunken nightmare, Sonja rolled sideways into the bedside table. Instantly, she heard the rocking of the glass vase full of flowers. It took a tumble and crashed to the floor, shattering the glass and sending the flowers everywhere.

  “What was that?” the deputy shouted, running into the room.

  “I’m sorry. I accidentally knocked over the flowers in my sleep.”

  “What happened?” the nurse chimed in, stepping behind Deputy Wilkins.

  “She accidentally knocked over the flowers,” the officer informed her, sighing with a sense of relief.

  “Oh dear. As long as you’re okay.”

  “I am,” Sonja assured her.

  “I’ll call the janitor to come clean it up,” she said, heading back out of the room.

  “You’re sure you’re okay, Sonja?” the deputy asked.

  She nodded.

  “Okay,” he smiled, returning to his post just outside the doorway.

  Sonja grumbled, looking at the mess and realizing she’d also dropped the crystal among the glass shards. She had no desire to touch the stone again and decided the janitor could sweep it up and throw it away with the rest of the glass as far as she was concerned.

  She had bigger worries. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible and get to the library. Who knew how long before Tina was going to be murdered?

  At least that ruled her out as the murderer and explained why she’d gone missing. It seemed that the culprit had some sort of vendetta against the couple and was planning on taking them both out. But why?

  Carol seemed so unlikely at this point. What possible motive could the woman have?

  On top of that, who else could the murderer possibly be?

  That’s when she noticed the square card floating in the shallow puddle of water on the floor. By the looks of it, the card had gotten shoved down and hidden in between the stems of the flowers on accident.

  Using her full arm’s length, Sonja reached all the way out and grabbed the wet card. The little envelope that these cards usually came in with flowers was missing.

  Sonja remembered where she’d seen these flowers before. They had been on the secretary’s desk the day Sonja had gone to meet with Trivilli. This also meant that the flowers had never originally been intended for her. They had been re-gifted.

  Perhaps Diana had thrown away the envelope to the little card, assuming she was throwing away the card itself, before giving them to Sonja.

  Turning the damp piece of paper over in her fingers, Sonja read the note scribbled there.

  She gasped and realized she just might have figured out who the murderer was. She just needed a few more clues to piece it together.

  Grabbing her purse and pulling out her phone, she quickly and quietly hopped out of bed. She needed to make a plan for the evening and she had to be fast about it.

  There was a woman’s life on the line.

  * * *

  Frank was less than happy as he left his house, sliding into his police jacket and climbing into the cruiser parked in the driveway. According to Deputy Wilkins at the hospital, Sonja had disappeared from her room.

  Supposedly, she’d knocked over the flowers Diana had given her, causing quite a little stir. A few minutes later when the janitor came to clean up, he informed the deputy that she was gone.

  The window was wide open and Sonja’s personal belongings were missing.

  She had snuck out without any police supervision when it was clear that there was a murderer on the loose who wanted her dead.

  He needed to find her before it was too late.

  Digging his phone out of his pocket, he checked his messages. Nothing from Sonja. Was she nuts? He pulled up her phone number and dialed. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. He hung up and dialed again. The same thing happened, but this time he left a message. “Sonja, I don’t know what you’re doing, but call me. If you figured out who the killer is, don’t go after them alone.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the dashboard.

  Pulling out of his driveway, he realized he had no idea where to start looking first. Her house, her parent’s place, the diner?

  He shook his head in frustration. If anything happened to her, he didn’t know what he might do.

  Glancing back down at his phone, he got an idea. Picking it up and scrolling through the contact lists until he found what he was looking for. Hitting the number, he called Sonja’s father.

  CHAPTER 15

  * * *

  Sonja’s wrist hurt and her headache hadn’t fully gone away, but she was honestly feeling better just being outside in the night air. The storm had let up, leaving the world wet and cool. She only wished she had her van with her so she didn’t need to walk to the library. It was only a few blocks, but after having taken a tumble like the one she did it was a little difficult to make the journey.

  However, it couldn’t wait. A woman’s life was hanging in the balance. As she walked, she held her phone in her free hand, using her data connection to continue her research on Famous Farnum Fireworks—the Denver pyrotechnics company that Sonja had seen a flyer for at Mr. Trivilli’s office.

  She clicked on a link that was labeled past events. Sure enough, they had been the ones to do the fireworks show the previous year for a statewide politician’s convention. She would have bet money that Trivilli had attended, even if it was just as an event consultant.

  The library building—a converted old gothic style church—came into view and Sonja felt in her purse to make sure the pepper spray Frank had given her all those months ago was still there. This murderer was likely one of the most sinister and desperate she’d ever encountered. She would need to be extra careful.

  She knew she should have called Frank and told him what was going on, but she just wasn’t sure there was enough time to explain everything she had learned, how she had learned it, and why he should bother busting into the locked library.

  Approaching the building, Sonja slinked into the shadows of the nearby trees, trying to stealthily approach the back entrance. It was no easy feat considering her stiff muscles, fractured wrist, and aching head.

  As far as she could tell, the place was completely vacant. There were no cars parked in the lot or on the street and all the arched windows were dark.

  Sonja needed a way to get in and thankfully she found it. Climbing the back steps of the building, she pulled on the doors, only to find out they were locked. No surprise there. Looking back and forth at all the back windows, she was surprised to see a low window against the grass looking into the basement.

  She remembered that it led into the hallways just outside the locked room of occult books. The real question was, would she be able to get inside?

  As she thought this, the window made a clicking noise and yawned open. Sonja rolled her eyes at herself. She’d forgotten all about her recently acquired telekinetic abilities. It was a side effect of a dark magic ritual she’d been a part of during another case. Unfortunately, she couldn’t really control these abilities, but they seemed to crop up always at the right time.

  Getting down on her hands and knees, she tried not to put pressure on her wounded wrist and pushed the window open wider. Getting her pepper spray ready, she slid across the grass, dropping feet first into the darkness of the small stone clad hallway.

 
; * * *

  “You’re sure she’s at the library?” Frank asked Samuel Reed, Sonja’s father, as they drove up Main Street toward the looming gothic façade.

  “No, I’m not positive,” he shot back, eyeing the building for any sign of his daughter.

  “But you’re pretty sure?”

  “This is where she always comes whenever she’s having trouble with something supernatural in a case.”

  Frank grunted irritably. He was not happy about Sonja’s seeming constant involvement in murder cases. Even recently, after learning that it was all because of ghosts, he didn’t feel any better about it. If anything, it made it worse.

  She was just always doing things behind his back, which angered him not only as a sheriff but as a boyfriend, too. How could he be expected to do his job if she never communicated?

  Parking the car, he shook his head. This was not the time to be getting angry. Sonja could be in serious danger and he needed to concentrate on the situation at hand.

  Quickly stepping out of the car, Frank and Sam made their way across the parking lot toward the looming gothic building.

  CHAPTER 16

  * * *

  Sonja could already hear the crying coming from below. The large wooden door leading into the room of occult books was closed shut, but a small window with iron bars over it let sound through. Pushing the door open, which was surprisingly unlocked, she headed inside.

  Across from her, just as in the vision, she saw the bookcase sitting open revealing the secret passage behind it.

  Instinctively, she knew this meant that the murderer was close by—very close. She needed to be extra careful. Moving toward the stairway, pepper spray held out forward, she began her descent into the flickering glow below.

  As soon as she had made it about halfway down the stone steps there was a loud metallic clanking noise followed by a slam. Spinning in shock, she looked up behind herself and realized the wall had closed in behind her.