Birthday Cake Waffle: Book 8 in the Diner of the Dead Series

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “Yeah,” she admitted.

  “Well, how about we bundle up and go for a walk along the river? It may help you clear your mind.”

  Sonja smiled at her boyfriend. “That sounds lovely.” She hoped he was right.

  * * *

  The night had only gotten colder since last they had been outside. Heading out one of the basement walkouts, they found themselves directly on the banks of the river. Despite it being freezing, Sonja found the brush of cold on her cheeks refreshing. It awoke all of her senses and helped her to feel a little calmer about everything that had happened so far that day.

  The strange cursed gift, the out-of-body experience, and even the potential murder she had witnessed at the cabin below all seemed to fade just a little.

  The flurries of snow they had been having most of the day seemed to have vanished, leaving a blanket of stars across a clear night sky. This far out from any city or town, the stars seemed so vibrant. Sonja half expected she could reach out and brush them away like flakes of snow on a dark window pane.

  Smiling, she grabbed a hold of Frank’s gloved hand. Leaning in a little, she fed off the warmth of his body.

  Looking down at his girlfriend, Frank squeezed her hand and smiled back.

  Soon, they approached the backside of the cabin at the bottom of the hill where the river path ran. Like their own cabin, this one had large windows looking out from the living area and onto the river. To Sonja’s surprise, a single dim lamp illuminated the room.

  Curiosity got the better of her and she strained to peer in across the backyard. Then, her jaw dropped. A couch sitting with its back facing the windows held one occupant, a woman. Sonja instantly recognized the haircut and knew she was looking at the back of Harriet’s head.

  “See, she’s fine,” Frank pointed out.

  “I–I guess you’re right,” she conceded. From the path along the river, it appeared as if Harriet had her head down a little as if she were reading a book.

  “Do you feel better now?”

  “I guess so,” Sonja sighed, feeling a little ridiculous about the whole situation. Unfortunately, even seeing the woman sitting there didn’t extinguish the feeling of dread she had in the pit of her stomach.

  Attempting to ignore the sensation, she continued on hand-in-hand with Frank past the house and further down the river.

  Once they were a good twenty feet away from the cabin in question, Frank squeezed Sonja’s hand again. “Sonja?” he spoke in a hushed tone against the evening’s silence.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I tell you something?” Leaning closer into her, she felt the warmth from his body more than before.

  She shrugged. “Sure. You tell me lots of things.”

  “Despite a few unnecessary bumps in the road, I’ve really enjoyed this trip so far.”

  Sonja smiled. “We’ve only been here for a couple of hours,” she teased.

  “I’m serious, Sonj’.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “I know. I’m sorry.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm. “I’m having a good time too, overall.”

  There was a pause in the conversation as they stood still, enjoying the grandeur of the nature around them.

  “Sonja?”

  “Yeah?”

  Using his free hand, he gently turned her face to look into her eyes. “I love you.”

  This made Sonja’s heart stop in its tracks. A sensation of anxiety ran through her whole body in a shiver. “Oh,” she whispered.

  “Oh?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern. “Is that a bad thing?”

  She stumbled over her words, attempting to sort out her own feelings. “No, no, it’s not bad. It just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

  “Ah,” he muttered in reply.

  She struggled with what to say next, not sure she could commit herself to saying the word “love” to him in return. She didn’t realize how much time was passing with them both standing there.

  When she didn’t respond, Frank spoke instead. “I’m sorry, Sonj’. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Looking up at him, she smiled and shook her head. “No. I’m glad you did. It makes me feel comfortable with you, even happier than I could imagine. That you’re willing to tell me your true feelings means a lot. I feel like I can trust you more than ever now.” She paused. “It’s almost like you’ve shared one of your deepest secrets with me.”

  She remained quiet while she just looked into his green eyes.

  “But?” he pressed.

  “Nothing,” she responded. “I-I am just not ready to say it myself, yet.”

  “Oh. I see.” The disappointment on his face was almost painful to take in. She could honestly say she had never seen as much emotion all at once from Frank as she did now looking at him during those few seconds. It made her like him all the more for it, but also made her feel guilty.

  “I feel like, with a little bit of time, I could come to say, and feel it, for you too.”

  “Really?” He half smiled. It was like watching a young high school boy emerge from the brave man she had come to adore.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “I really could.”

  “Maybe someday,” he teased, breaking the tension, “You could share a deep secret with me, too. Then I can at least have the upper hand for once.”

  “Maybe,” she smirked. She instantly thought of her supernatural powers. She thought of the little ghost cat. She thought of her father. “Someday,” she whispered.

  Smiling, they grasped hands again and continued their walk.

  A bobbing light up ahead caught their attention. “What’s that?” Sonja asked.

  “It looks like someone is out there.”

  As they drew closer they noticed an elderly man with a flashlight, hunched over and digging in the snow.

  “Excuse me?” Frank called out.

  Instantly, the beam of light was turned on them, blinding them.

  “Hey,” Frank shouted.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the man apologized, dropping the light. “I didn’t realize there was anyone out here.”

  “For a supposedly secluded community, there seems to be quite the activity out here,” Frank joked stepping forward. “I’m Frank Thompson. This is my girlfriend, Sonja Reed.”

  “How do you do?” He bowed. “I’m Wilson Bartley.”

  “The year-round resident, right?” Sonja remarked. “The gas station attendant told us about you.”

  “Oh, Balton,” Wilson sneered slightly when he said the name.

  “What are you doing out here?” Frank asked. “It’s freezing.”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” the old gentleman shot back.

  “We’re just out for a walk.”

  “Ah, I see,” Bartley nodded. “I’m looking for a gold men’s wedding ring. You guys haven’t seen it, have you?”

  “Afraid not,” Frank commented. “Did you lose it out here?”

  “Naw. It belongs to another fellow who is staying with me. An old friend who comes up every year around this time.”

  “An old friend?”

  “Yeah. He lost his wedding ring along this path here. Regrets it horribly.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Frank said. “If we find it, we’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you, son. If you do, I live at the last house just at the end of this path.”

  “We’ll keep an eye out,” Frank nodded. “We better head back. It’s only getting colder out here.”

  “Don’t stay out too long,” Sonja added, worried for the elderly man’s health.

  Turning back toward the cabin, Sonja couldn’t help but wonder who Wilson’s guest could be. She had an idea but needed to wait until Belinda called back to do some official fact checking. Somehow, she felt as if all of this was connected.

  CHAPTER 9

  * * *

  “I think Don is the one staying with Wilson,” Sonja commented once they were safely back inside the building.

>   “What?” Frank asked, his brow furrowed in confusion, as he removed his coat. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don Connelly. The man from the cabin down below. I think he’s the person staying with Mr. Bartley.”

  “Are you still thinking about all of that?”

  Sonja nodded. “I think if he did attack his wife, he fled the scene and is now staying at Mr. Bartley’s house.”

  Sighing, Frank took a seat in front of the fireplace. “You just saw Harriet sitting in the living room. You saw that everything was fine.”

  She shrugged, leaning on the couch behind her boyfriend. “I still just have a bad feeling I can’t shake.”

  “Trouble just follows you, doesn’t it?” he teased a little meanly.

  Ignoring his comment, she continued explaining her thought process. “I think that Mrs. Connelly was having an affair. Who knows, multiple affairs, or maybe has had affairs in the past that Don found about.”

  “What could possibly make you think that? We haven’t even been around these people long enough to know anything about them.”

  “Her ring was left at the gas station, right? Don seemed surprised that it was there, or that his wife had gone down there at all. Maybe she was interested in younger men and was pursuing the man at the gas station. Maybe we blew her cover when we mentioned the ring.”

  “That’s a lot of assumptions based on a single piece of random evidence,” he pointed out, clearly getting frustrated that this topic had become the focal point of the entire trip so far.

  Sonja was determined to get her thought process out in the open, and ignored her boyfriend’s argument. “Maybe he lost it and attacked his wife. Then, when he realized what he had done, he fled the scene to go to the house up the road, to be with an old friend. Then he lost his ring, or maybe purposefully threw it away in his anger.”

  “Why would he send his friend out to look for it then?”

  Sonja shrugged. “Maybe he instantly regretted getting rid of the ring, or maybe his friend insisted it was stupid to toss it. Either way, Wilson goes out looking for it on behalf of his friend and then runs into us.”

  “Okay, let’s assume you’re right that Mr. Connelly is staying in the cabin at the end of the path. Maybe he did find out his wife was cheating and decided to leave her, and maybe he did toss the ring. That is all plausible, but it doesn’t mean he killed his wife before he left. Her sitting in the living room with the lights on proves he didn’t kill her.”

  “I’m not sure,” Sonja muttered. “I don’t know how he did it, but I swear he killed her.”

  Frank stood up, clearly angry. It scared Sonja a little to see him this upset. “Look, murder and death don't need to follow us at every turn. I realize there have been a lot of strange things that have happened this last year, but it’s a new year, Sonj’. It’s 2017, a new year of life. Let’s just leave all of that behind us, okay?”

  “I can’t help it if things happen,” she snapped back. “It’s not my fault people are getting murdered.”

  “No one’s been murdered,” he shouted. His hands clenched into fists and his face turned slightly red. “Okay? Just let it go, please,” he pleaded. “I planned this trip so we could escape all of this drama and finally have some fun together, so we could do something that didn’t involve dead bodies. I just wanted you to have a nice birthday. I wanted you to forget about the diner, about the murders, about all the stress from the last year. Instead, you still bring along your waffle iron from the diner and you still insist on there being some sort of murder next door. I just can’t take it.” Realizing he was yelling, he pulled back a little and sighed, unclenching his fists.

  For a moment, Sonja thought she spotted tears in his eyes and felt horrible about everything she’d done so far on this trip. She had been so wrapped up in her own emotions about the past year, about what she was sure she had seen in the cabin down the hill, she hadn’t stopped to consider his feelings.

  “I just wanted to do something nice for you,” he whispered. “I wanted to have a romantic space to tell you . . .” his voice trailed off.

  “Oh, Frank,” Sonja murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Never mind. I’m going to bed.” Turning away from her, he headed downstairs.

  CHAPTER 10

  * * *

  Sonja, feeling upset about how things had turned out that evening, adjourned to the loft all alone. No good night kiss, no cuddling in front of the fire, no late night hot chocolate, none of the things she had dreamed of for this trip.

  She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost didn’t realize her cell phone was buzzing. Her mind returned to the situation at hand and she pulled out the phone. Just as she guessed, it was Belinda.

  “Hi,” she answered.

  “So here is what I’ve learned so far,” Belinda shot straight out, skipping the formalities and jumping right into the meat of the conversation. “I believe what you have on the necklace is called the Gurathnaka stone.”

  “The what?” Sonja responded, knowing she would never be able to pronounce the name.

  “The Gurathnaka stone, and honestly, I’m a little jealous of you right now.”

  “Why? What do you mean?” Sonja took a seat on the sofa in the loft. She knew she’d need to pull it out into a bed but was ignoring it for now.

  “This stone has been lost for over three millennia. Sonja, that stone combined with your supernatural ability, you’ll be able to communicate with the world of the dead like no one has in our lifetime.”

  Sonja’s heart was pounding. Belinda was so excited by this fact, but Sonja was hardly thrilled about further contact with the dead. “Give me the details,” she cut in.

  The sound of pages turning in a book fluttered over the phone. “So, just like I thought, the stone allows the caster to project themselves temporarily into the spirit realm.”

  Sonja’s jaw dropped. “You mean I turn myself into a ghost?”

  “Sort of, but not quite. You see, unlike a ghost, your projection is still attached to your body. If the necklace is removed while you were projecting, you’ll instantly return to your body. If your body in the real world gets hurt, or maybe even if someone touches you, you might return to your body.”

  “So, basically, I can wander around invisible?”

  “There is more to it than just that. Not only can you wander the spirit realm, but you can also interact with any spirits you come across.”

  “Interact with them, how?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I don’t know how communication works between spirits on the other side.”

  “I see.”

  “Are you planning on using it soon?”

  Sonja clenched her jaw while she thought, glancing down at the cabin below. “Yes, I am.”

  “Oooh, I wish I was there with you.”

  “Are there any adverse side effects? Any horrible outcomes that I should be aware of?”

  More pages flipped. “It says here that if a person tries to use it, a person without inherent supernatural ability, that it has the potential to separate them from their body permanently.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Sonja gasped.

  “I know. So, make sure no one else besides you puts it on.”

  “Okay,” she affirmed. “Anything else?”

  “Not that I’ve found yet. I think interaction with spirits on the other side will take a little practice.”

  “Got it.”

  “If I find out anything new, I’ll call you.”

  “Okay. Thanks a million, Belinda.”

  “No problem. After you’ve done your first trial run, call me and tell me all about it.”

  “Alright,” Sonja whispered. “Hopefully nothing goes wrong.”

  CHAPTER 11

  * * *

  After hanging up the phone, Sonja got the necklace out of her purse again and examined it. Her hands were sweating and her heart thundering so loudly she could feel her whole body shake with each beat. Playing with the o
ccult was never her favorite thing, and this new experience scared her more than any. However, she had to find out, with one hundred percent surety, if Harriet was actually dead or not.

  Laying back on the couch and getting comfortable, she unclasped the necklace. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered and slipped it around her neck.

  * * *

  Gasping for breath, as if she were emerging from the bottom of a pool, Sonja finally opened her eyes. Everything was blurry, washed out.

  “Where am I?” she whispered. She felt like she had been doing something just moments before, something important. What was it? Why couldn’t she remember? Her body felt strange, almost as if she was completely weightless. It induced a sensation similar to vertigo.

  Slowly, the dark image surrounding her came into focus.

  Looking down, she noticed a figure lying upon what appeared to be a couch. As the person’s face materialized through the haze, she gasped. She was looking down at herself. Then she spotted the strange necklace around her neck.

  Everything quickly began to flow back to her.

  She was using a cursed object to project herself onto the spirit plane in order to investigate the cabin at the bottom of the hill. The disorientation was probably a temporary side effect of leaving your body behind.

  “Okay,” she whispered to herself, attempting to get used to this new experience. Moving her arms and legs, she felt as if small gusts of wind were brushing her bare skin all over her body. “Strange. Now how do I get around?”

  Looking at the floor below her, she wondered how she could get down from this levitation. Just as she thought this her body slowly lowered itself until it came to float just a few centimeters above the carpet.

  Attempting to take a step forward, like she would in normal life, her movement didn’t do much to propel her forward.

  “Maybe I’m supposed to just float?” she wondered out loud. As the words left her mouth she felt herself begin to move to the edge of the balcony. It seemed that all she needed to do was will herself to move, think about where she wanted to go, and her body—or whatever you wanted to call her ghostly self—would move forward.