TABLE OF CONTENTS
BATTERED AND BUTTERED
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
Battered
and
Buttered
Waffle
Book Two in the Diner of the Dead Series
By
Carolyn Q. Hunter
Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books
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**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
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BATTERED AND BUTTERED
WAFFLE
Book Two in the Diner of the Dead Series
PROLOGUE
The television blared in the background, playing a rerun of an old black and white comedy show while Daniel Marston unwrapped his frozen pizza and plopped it in the toaster oven. He only paid partial attention to the television. The episode was one he knew well. A bumbling small-town deputy and his dopey friend snuck into an old, abandoned house to retrieve a lost baseball, and both men were scared witless because they believed the house was haunted.
Haunted indeed, the middle-aged man scoffed with an eye-roll.
Daniel didn’t believe in hauntings, but the TV ratings proved that the consumer public thought differently. He worked as an “actor” and writer on a reality show called Ghost Hunters Incorporated, which had been running for the last year. So far, ratings on the show had been insignificant, but he hoped to eventually turn those numbers around. In fact, he was determined to beat out the competition, The Spook Show, before the year was out.
The Spook Show was at the top of the rating boards, and the main reason for its success could be attributed to the cast of paranormal investigators, three kids in their mid-twenties who hosted and starred in the show.
From Daniel’s perspective, a man in his mid-forties, the three of them were, in fact, kids. It made him furious that a bunch of twenty-something upstarts, kids who did nothing more than wander around with a cheap cameraman in old—supposedly haunted—buildings, were breaking all kinds of television records in a matter of months, records which he himself had only dreamed of. After over twenty years in the wild, weird world of television, and at least ten in reality television, he had little to show for his life’s work. Eating frozen pizza in a low-end apartment and watching reruns of old, tired television shows was hardly his idea of a big payoff. Ghost Hunters Incorporated simply hadn’t been the cash cow he had hoped for, and after only five episodes the network was considering canceling midseason.
Daniel gritted his teeth just thinking about it, but tried not to worry. He had a plan, something he hoped would give him the huge rating boost he was looking for, and if he was lucky, he’d knock those Spook kids down a notch. He had a secret weapon that he’d developed that would blow the lid off of the paranormal TV world, and he was waiting for just the right moment to deploy it.
The toaster oven dinged. He opened the oven just as the phone rang.
“What now?” he sighed, heading into the living room where his cell phone was sitting on the couch. It was Carl, his producer. “Hello?”
“Turn on channel 122 right now,” Carl instructed, sounding ominous.
“Why?” Daniel asked, picking up the remote and changing the channel. The Spook Show was on and he groaned in disgust. “Why exactly am I watching this dribble?”
“Just watch,” Carl’s words sounded like death.
Daniel’s eyes, glued impatiently to the screen, widened—first in surprise, and then in anger.
“Now, we’ll use The Seer to detect the presence of any entities that might be in the room.”
The kid on the screen—the one they called Spook—pointed toward the device that another cast member, held as though it had magical powers of divination. The device had a flat screen and a cone shaped apparatus attached to the back. Daniel’s heart hammered in his chest.
“This device measures when there are changes in airflow or density and then uses cutting-edge technology to outline the disturbance.”
The member of the crew, whose public name was “Tech,” was holding the device, and he pointed the cone toward a crawl space in the corner of an old house.
“Let’s see if we can catch any entities back here,” Spook whispered, moving in close.
The device was Daniel’s secret weapon. It was his invention, and it was being used on a rival show.
“What is this?” he barked at Carl. “How were they able to recreate my invention? No one has ever seen it but me, and a handful of people that I trust.”
“I have no idea, man. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it,” his producer sighed.
Daniel paced angrily, his mind whirling. “Where are they filming next?”
“I believe they’re doing a few episodes in a middle-of-nowhere town in Colorado called Haunted Falls,” Carl replied, reading from a fan site on his computer screen.
“I want to be on the first flight out there.”
“No way, man. You can’t just go barging in while they’re filming. The studio could get sued,” the producer protested flatly.
“Fine, I’ll make my own arrangements. As of right now, I’m on vacation. I’ll call you when I get back,” was the terse reply, followed only by the click that ended the call.
Daniel glared at the television screen, at his invention, cursing, and vowed to stop his competitors from using it. He had worked too long and too hard to let Spook get away with this blatant thievery.
CHAPTER 1
Sonja’s legs felt wobbly as she walked up the stairs and stood on the small wooden platform outside The Waffle, speaking into a microphone.
“Welcome everyone,” her voice echoed over the loudspeaker that Vic and
Alex had arrived at the diner extra early that morning to set up. “Welcome to the grand opening of The Waffle Diner and Eatery.”
A round of applause echoed through the parking lot. At least twenty-five faces looked up at her from the crowd that had gathered in front of the diner, hungry folks from town, all waiting to get into The Waffle for breakfast.
Sonja looked down at Alison, her best friend of almost twenty years and now her business associate. Ally beamed up at her from the sidelines. She stood near the front doors, scissors in hand, ready to cut the ribbon. Alex, Alison’s husband, stood nearby with their sweet baby, Cynthia, strapped to his chest. Sonja’s mother was also there, clasping her hands in front of her chest, her eyes welling with tears of pride and joy.
“Alison and I are grateful to have you here today. We appreciate all your support as we’ve worked to get the diner up and running again. We couldn’t have done it without your help.” Sonja acknowledged a few teenage boys in the crowd who had helped clean up the old diner and get it ready for the grand opening. The boys smiled back.
“But I know you guys didn’t come down here just to listen to me talk,” she grinned.
“Yeah, we’re hungry. Let us in,” Sam, one of the boys, shouted, causing a ripple of laughter in the crowd.
Sonja laughed and agreed. “Without further ado, we are now open for business.” She gestured to Alison, who cut the strip of red fabric off the front door.
“Let’s eat,” she announced.
Vic, Alex’s father and one of the diner’s cooks, pulled open the glass double doors and let the crowd in. The eager diner owner jumped down from the platform and hurried around to the back door, letting herself in and donning an apron. It was time to get things started – with any luck, today would be a long day.
* * *
Two hours after opening, the diner was still bustling with customers. Every time one party left, another immediately took their place. It seemed the diner was a hit. Sonja watched gratefully from the kitchen as a few girls from town, whom she’d hired to work as waitresses, bustled up and down between the booths and tables in the dining room—each wearing the signature red and black uniform that she had specifically designed to look vintage, as if the gals had stepped right out of the fifties. Sonja had worked hard to make the interior, as well as the wait staff, appear as authentic as possible, with gleaming chrome and checkerboard floors.
Sonja glanced about the crowded diner, satisfied with how things were turning out. She was more than grateful for the help of her new hires - she didn’t think that she, Vic, and Alison could have handled the masses of hungry patrons on their own.
“Another order of gouda waffles, Sonja,” one of the servers called from the front.
“On it,” she called back. “You gals are doing great out there.” The gouda waffles had, to Sonja’s surprise, turned out to be quite popular.
The dish was one of the only “gourmet” items she had included on the menu—sort of as an experiment. The new entrepreneur was testing the waters to see if she could successfully fit a diverse selection of dishes on the menu. The residents of Haunted Falls were known for having rather traditional tastes, and “good ol’ diner food” seemed to be a staple of small towns. Most customers came in and asked for the usual—a normal plate of flapjacks, or a serving of eggs and bacon, or a stack of waffles. But this morning, it was exciting to see that so many people were willing to branch out and try something new, and as far as she could tell, they were loving it.
She went to work preparing the order. The waffle itself was thinner and crispier than a normal Belgian waffle. Sonja used a crepe style batter, and had a special waffle iron designed specifically to make thinner, crispier waffles. Once the waffle was cooked to perfection, she removed it from the iron and crumbled smoked gouda cheese on top of it. Freshly chopped dates were added on top of the gouda, and the dish was topped off with a warm chocolate drizzle with a dollop of whipped cream. It made for a deliciously sweet, yet savory breakfast item.
Sonja took a second to admire the dish one more time before putting it up in the service window and ringing the bell. “Order up.”
“Thanks, Sonja,” the server called, grabbing the dish.
Alison came into the back, wiping her brow with the back of her arm. “Whew. It’s a mad house out there.”
“Aww…it’s just a cakewalk back here,” Sonja teased.
Her friend grinned. “Okay, okay, yes – I’m grateful that I don’t have to stand over a hot stove like you and Vic.”
Vic stood at the other end of the kitchen, frying up a fresh batch of hash browns. He laughed and his belly bounced.
“I like the heat,” he shrugged, spinning his spatula with a grin.
“Better you than me,” Alison replied.
“How is Alex doing with Cyndy?” Sonja asked, pulling another order slip off the turnstile.
“I think he is a little overwhelmed, but he loves that baby girl so much. He’ll be fine with her for one day while I help out here.”
“Well, we both know he’ll put in some serious hours in this kitchen once we’re up and running at capacity.” Sonja enjoyed feeling like she was part of a true family business.
Vic and Alex, father and son, were brilliant cooks, and she trusted them to whip up whatever whimsical dishes that she invented, in a manner that the Haunted Falls patrons would appreciate. Alison was great with numbers and would be a tremendous help on the business side of things. The young mom also had a special magic when working with customers.
Ally’s father had originally owned and run the diner before he passed, and he’d willed the business to his young daughter who had managed the place for a while before shutting it down when the reality of motherhood had taken her by surprise. Alison had been delighted to see Sonja come home from her disappointing “dream job” in New York city, and had convinced her best friend to stay and run the diner. Sonja didn’t regret the decision one bit, and hadn’t even taken a backward glance when she walked away from New York and her dreams of being a writer. As the new owner of The Waffle, she felt honored to have the acceptance and trust of her best friend and the staff. She’d do everything she could to make the diner successful.
“Anyway,” Ally added pensively, “Sometimes I think Cynthia loves her daddy more than me.”
Sonja gave her friend a sympathetic smile, thinking that there must be some hormonal fluctuations happening in the new mama. “I’m sure that’s not the case, Ally. Cyndy is just used to you being around all the time, she takes it for granted that you’ll always be there, and that’s not a bad thing. You’re her mommy.”
“I suppose you’re right. I’m really hoping that I get the hang of this parenting thing at some point. It’s hard work,” she admitted.
“Much harder than running a diner, I’ll bet,” Sonja nodded. “But at least for now, Alex gets his chance to be with Cynthia all day. I bet it’ll make him appreciate what you do at home a little bit more,” she grinned, encouraging her friend.
Alison and Alex had agreed to trade off caring for their sweet little Cynthia, and working at the diner. Sonja didn’t know how on earth they managed—and couldn’t imagine having a child herself—but loved and respected them for it.
“You’re right,” Ally beamed. “He deserves a chance to be alone with her.”
“And a chance to learn about how much work she can actually be,” Sonja joked.
Her friend laughed. “He is a really good daddy, actually, completely capable in every way. I think he’s probably changed just as many diapers, as I have, if not more.”
Sonja leaned in and gave her a hug. “You are the luckiest woman I know.”
“Well, I’d better get back out there,” Ally noted, feeling better. “I don’t want to leave my tables waiting.”
Moments later, Alison came bursting back into the kitchen.
“Sonja,” she hissed, cheeks flushed.
“I thought you had tables waiting?”
“Sonja,
” she repeated, looking back over her shoulder, her eyes wide.
“What is it?”
Her friend clasped her hands excitedly. “I think a TV crew is here to film the grand opening.”
Sonja felt her heart leap. “Really?”
The proud new owner pushed through the swinging double doors that led from the kitchen into the dining area, and looked out the front windows. Sure enough, a large van and a crew of people were unloading film equipment in the parking lot.
“See? It’s a film crew.”
“You’re right,” Sonja replied in a hushed voice, unconsciously reaching up to pat her hair.
All of the crew members looked very young, maybe in their early to mid-twenties.
“They look too young to be a professional news crew,” she commented, leaning into Alison.
“Well, maybe they’re a high school or college film crew.”
“Maybe,” Sonja frowned, puzzled.
She doubted that a small-town community college or high school news club would have the funding to buy the kind of expensive equipment they were unloading. No, something definitely seemed odd, and a trickle of fear unfurled in the pit of her stomach.
The crew members walked swiftly toward the diner. There were three of them, two men and one woman, followed closely by a slightly older-looking cameraman who had apparently begun filming.
Sonja put on her best “I’m the Boss” face, and came out from behind the counter to greet them.
As they bustled into the diner, one of the young men, with jet-black, slicked-back hair, spoke directly to the camera.
“Hello, ghost hunters. This is Spook, talking to you directly from The Waffle Diner and Eatery, in the tiny town of Haunted Falls, Colorado. This seemingly innocent small-town diner may look perfectly harmless now, but not too long ago, a gruesome discovery was made in the walk-in freezer, and it wasn’t cockroaches, folks…it was a body. Was the victim murdered here? Or for some reason, unknown to anyone of this world, was this just the most hospitable place to hide her earthly remains?”
Battered and Buttered Waffle: Book 2 in The Diner of the Dead Series Page 1
