Sonja felt her stomach turn. Her mouth went dry and acid burned at the back of her throat. This was clearly not a local TV news crew, and they definitely weren’t interested in the diner’s grand opening.
“The victim, a local, middle-aged woman, was found in the freezer by the current owners, who, for some reason had closed the diner down for a period of time. Coincidence?” Spook continued, staring intently into the camera, eyebrows raised.
The new hostess who had been busy seating another couple when the crew barged in, ran up to her boss in a tizzy.
“I’m so sorry, Sonja. They just sort of blew past me. I didn’t know what to do,” she worried.
The entire diner had gone quiet, and customers, friends, and tourists alike were staring at Spook as he narrated. Sonja felt a small flame of anger flicker within her, but took a deep breath, determined to act professionally. She had hoped to put the recent murder case of Ronda Smith—and the body she and Alison found in the freezer—behind them, so that everyone could focus on the happy news of the grand opening.
Refusing to allow the nonsense to continue, Sonja set her jaw and made a beeline for Spook.
“Is her ghost still present in this building, seeking solace? Seeking revenge?”
His narrative gave Sonja a sudden chill. The mere mention of ghosts made her hands clammy and her skin cold. She hadn’t told anyone about the face that she’d seen in the window after the murder, not even Alison. After that first incident, she had experienced similar supernatural events a few more times during the course of the investigation, but once things had been wrapped up, she’d been left alone by things that go bump in the night, and that’s the way that she wanted to keep it. She’d only recently gotten back to being able to sleep with the lights off.
Taking another deep breath, Sonja smoothed out her apron, and regained her composure.
“Excuse me,” she called, trying to politely capture Spook’s attention.
“Let’s talk to some of the locals and ask them if they’ve noticed anything strange happening around the diner.” The rude ghost hunter never even glanced in her direction, and strode through the eating area like he owned it.
She was being deliberately ignored. Worse than that was the fact that the entire diner was seemingly captivated by Spook’s presentation.
“Can you believe this?” Sonja complained to Alison, her mouth open in astonishment.
“Oh my gosh,” Ally whispered. “I know who they are.”
“Who? Who are they?”
“They’re the Spook Crew from The Spook Show.”
“What does that even mean?” Sonja didn’t watch much TV and had never heard of Spook and his crew.
“It’s one of those ghost hunting reality shows. They’re really popular right now. Alex watches them.” Alison pointed at them. “That’s Spook, Tech, and Maddy the Mystic.”
That explained it. Many of the customers were probably fans of the show, so they were rightfully amazed to see the Crew walk right into their small town diner in Haunted Falls. The crew moved from table to table, invading the personal space of multiple customers, pushing the camera in their faces while Spook asked questions. Some customers looked thrilled, others looked horrified. One customer looked as though she might faint when the camera pointed her way. Sonja took off her apron and threw it on the counter.
“I don’t really care who they are, they can’t be in here right now.”
She marched over and tapped the gentleman—Spook—on the shoulder. “Hello, Spook, is it? Can I do something for you?” she raised a warning eyebrow at him.
He spun around to face her. “Ah, you must be one of the folks who work here.” He gestured to the cameraman to get Sonja in the shot. His clearly deliberate “run a hand over my hair to look suave” tactic did nothing for the outraged owner.
“I’m sorry, is your name Spook?”
He flashed a smile of perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. “The one and only. We’re interested in the recent murder that took place in Haunted Falls. Do you have any comments on the supernatural incidents that are rumored to be occurring here?”
She bit back the response that leapt to her mind, trying to put her most professional foot forward. “Look, Spook, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, you can’t film in here.”
The pompous TV host’s smile only widened. “Let me explain. I am Spook and this,” he gestured to his comrades, “is The Spook Crew. We investigate potential hauntings and supernatural hotspots and share our adventures with the world on The Spook Show.”
“Well, if you had bothered to call me ahead of time to try and schedule a time to film, you’d have known that coming out here would be nothing but a waste of my time and yours. In case you hadn’t picked up on it, we’re having our grand opening right now,” Sonja was in no mood to be trifled with by some Hollywood type.
“Do you know anything about the murder that happened here in Haunted Falls?” the host pressed on, completely ignoring her jibe.
“You’re done here, Spook. Take your crew and leave,” she insisted, feeling her face begin to flush with anger.
The ghost hunter’s eyes grew wide with realization. “You’re the owner, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. My name is Sonja Reed, and I need you to leave now,” she said through her teeth, fighting to remain calm.
He turned to the camera.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Spook talking to you directly from The Waffle Diner. We’re here right now, talking with the owner of the diner, the very woman who found the dead body only a few weeks ago in her walk-in freezer.”
Sonja had had enough. “Let me see…how can I make myself clear? Oh, I know…get out,” she squared off on the obnoxious twit.
“Tell us, Sonja. What was the first thing you felt when you saw the body? Were there any type of energies in the air? Have you yourself seen or felt any supernatural disturbances in the diner since the murder?”
Sonja’s face flushed scarlet with rage. That was the final straw - she had no desire to discuss her supernatural experiences with this arrogant young man, or anyone else for that matter. As far as she was concerned, the incidents had never happened – they were a memory shoved back into the far recesses of her mind and she needed them to stay there.
“Get. Out!” her voice rose, sounding a bit hysterical, and she trembled with anger, but jabbed a finger into the young man’s chest.
Spook gazed into her eyes as if he could charm her into doing what he wanted. She was not a violent person, but was more than ready to throw this strapping young man out bodily if she had to.
“Come on, Spook,” Maddy the Mystic interrupted, glancing nervously between the two of them. “She wants us to leave.”
His only response was that a corner of his mouth twitched up into an arrogant grin, as he continued to stare at the diner owner.
“Come on, man,” the other guy in the trio agreed. “Let’s get out of here.”
Sonja didn’t budge, staring down the ghost hunter with venom in her eyes.
“Look, there’s no need for hostility here, just answer one simple question for me,” Spook insisted, with a smarmy grin. “Have you experienced anything supernatural here in the diner?”
“Alison, call the Sheriff.” Sonja glanced briefly at her astounded friend, who responded with a nod and ran into the diner’s back office.
“Are you afraid to answer the question because of things you’ve seen?”
Sweat appeared in tiny beads on her brow, and her heart thudded anxiously in her chest, giving away the emotional reaction that she had to his intrusive question. For a brief moment it felt almost as if someone…or something, was watching her. Someone other than the predator in front of her was waiting for her response.
“Has your safety been threatened by an otherworldly presence?”
The exasperated diner owner took a deep breath and gritted her teeth, ridding herself of the eerie feeling and regaining her composure.
“My partner is calling the police. If you’re not out of her by the time they arrive I’ll be forced to press charges for trespassing, disturbing the peace, and impeding commerce.”
The host gave her a knowing look and turned back to the camera. “It seems the diner owner herself is too afraid to tell us about the terrifying things that she has seen. Perhaps because she is afraid of the horrors that a murdered ghost might visit upon her.”
Sonja began scanning the diner, looking for big, burly men who might be able to help her forcefully eject the overly-dramatic ghost hunter from the diner, when, thankfully, the door to the diner opened and a rugged blond-haired man representing Haunted Hills finest walked in.
“What’s going on in here?” Sheriff Thompson demanded, immediately sizing up Spook and his crew.
Sonja nearly collapsed with relief.
“Thank goodness. Sheriff, these people are trespassing and disturbing the customers. I’ve asked them repeatedly to leave and they’ve refused.”
The Sheriff stepped forward. The cameraman lowered the camera, and Spook turned on him.
“What are you doing, Benjamin?” he growled. “Keep filming.”
“Spook,” the cameraman protested. “Let’s just get out of here. We can always come back when it’s more convenient for the owner.”
“I said keep filming.”
“That’s just about enough,” Sheriff Thompson observed, in a tone that brooked no nonsense.
The entire film crew turned to face him.
“Do you have a permit to film on this location, young man?” he drawled, putting Spook in his place.
“We’re the Spook Crew,” Spook shrugged, acting like the sheriff should know what that meant, and be impressed by it. “We seek out the supernatural.”
“I don’t care if you’re The Queen of England,” the Sheriff replied. “You need to either show me a valid permit or I’ll be happy to escort you from these premises.”
Sonja was taken back. She had never seen anyone attempt to defy Sheriff Thompson, and was thankful that he was able to react far more coolly than she had under the circumstances.
The female reporter and the cameraman both nodded. “We understand,” Maddy said quickly, heading for the door.
“Yes, sir,” Benjamin added, lowering the camera and looking embarrassed.
“We’re not done,” Spook stood his ground, feet spread apart, arms crossed defiantly over his chest. “We need to get some raw interviews with local citizens.”
“Come on, Spook,” Maddy said in a low voice. “We’re leaving.”
With that, the two crew members and the cameraman hustled out of the diner, leaving Spook standing alone with Sheriff Thompson.
Spook muttered like a perturbed child. “Fine. We’ll go ahead and get the stupid permit.”
“Don’t forget,” the officer smiled pleasantly, “you have to have the owner sign it.”
He motioned toward Sonja, “You have to have her permission to film here.”
“We’ll be back,” he smirked and strolled out the door.
* * *
“I can’t believe how rude they were,” Sonja muttered angrily, sitting across the table from Sheriff Thompson, sipping her cup of coffee. They were in a small red leather booth in the back corner of the diner.
“It’s show business, I suppose,” he remarked. “That boy’s just a diva.”
“Diva is an understatement,” she snorted. “He is probably the most entitled person I’ve ever met. I would never want to work in television if I had to deal with people like that.”
Alison came over to the table. “You need more coffee?” she asked, holding up the pot.
“No, I should really get back to helping in the kitchen,” Sonja sighed, glancing ruefully at her nearly-empty mug.
“You’ve had a bit of a stressful situation,” the sheriff observed. “I think everyone would agree that you deserve a little break.”
Sonja leaned over on the table, setting her coffee down. “How did you get here so fast? I mean, Ally went in back to call the station and you walked in the door.”
“I didn’t even have to call,” Ally commented. “He was already here by the time I picked up the phone.”
The sheriff smiled. “I was just coming in to eat breakfast, and happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“Well, I’m sure glad that you showed up when you did,” Sonja remarked.
She finished off the last of her coffee and stood up. “I really should get back to helping in the kitchen. I don’t want to make Vic fill all the orders on his own.”
“Alright, then,” he nodded. “Can I order before you take off?”
“Hey, how about a meal on the house?” Sonja suggested, more than grateful for his timely intervention. “What would you like to have?”
“What do you recommend?” he asked.
“The gouda waffles are divine,” she grinned.
CHAPTER 2
“You and Frank seem to be getting along nicely,” Alison teased, wiggling a finger at her friend, as they stepped back through the kitchen door, after Sonja’s short break.
“Who’s Frank?” Sonja asked.
Ally put her hands on her hips. “Frank? Frank Thompson?”
Sonja thought for a moment, then her eyes widened with realization.
“You mean Sheriff Thompson?”
A mischievous smile appeared on Alison’s face. “I think he likes you.”
“Sheesh, Ally,” she rolled her eyes. “Isn’t he like seven or eight years older than me?”
“What difference does that make?” her friend challenged.
Sonja turned toward the waffle iron and poured in a helping of the crepe batter for Sheriff Thompson’s order. “It makes a big difference to me.”
“Oh, come on, Sonja. When was the last time you had a date?” Ally stood tapping her foot, hands on hips.
“I don’t know and I’m not sure I care,” Sonja could feel a heated blush rising from her neck to the tips of her ears.
Honestly, she simply hadn’t met anyone she would even consider dating, and even if someone had come along, Sonja thought the whole formality of dating was a painfully awkward process.
“Don’t you think Frank—”
“Sheriff Thompson,” Sonja corrected. It just didn’t seem right calling him Frank.
“Sheriff Thompson. Don’t you think Sheriff Thompson is even a little cute?”
“No, I do not,” Sonja declared, fully recognizing the lie that came sliding out so quickly. “Besides, I think you should only date people who you’re already friends with.”
“You and Sheriff Thompson are sort of friends.”
Sonja gave her friend a sideways look, opened the waffle iron, and pulled out the finished waffle. “Hand me the gouda, will you?”
Ally grabbed the gouda and handed it to her.
“Thanks.”
“Well, you guys seem pretty chummy to me,” she persisted, stifling a giggle.
“He thinks I’m a nuisance more than anything else,” Sonja chuckled.
“You mean because you got nosy about that murder case?”
Nosy. Sonja really disliked that word. Inquisitive or curious were much more accurate in her opinion.
“I’m not nosy,” she defended.
Ally raised her eyebrows and Sonja ignored her.
A tray of dirty dishes appeared in the service window.
“Table five is finished,” the waitress called.
“Thanks,” Sonja replied, grateful for the interruption of the insufferable conversation that Ally insisted upon having.
“Anyway,” Alison sighed, her tone shifting abruptly from playful to serious. “Do you think it was a good idea?” she grabbed the tray of dishes and scraped the scraps of leftover food into the trash.
“What do you mean? About Sheriff Thompson?” she asked.
“I mean, telling that film crew to shove off?”
Sonja’s jaw dropped. “Why wouldn’t
I tell them to shove off?” She was surprised Ally even brought up the film crew again. “I thought you were on board with getting them out of the diner.”
“I was.” She set the dirty dishes in the industrial sized sink to be washed. “But, I’m just saying.”
“Ally, they were incredibly rude. They were disturbing the customers. Would you like to hear about dead bodies and ghosts over breakfast?”
“I guess that depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on my mood. I’m sure there are lots of people who talk about ghosts over breakfast,” she shrugged.
Sonja grabbed a handful of dates, plopped them on the chopping board, and began cutting them into small chunks. “I don’t care what The Spook Crew does, or what they think. I care about my customers.”
“Well,” Ally took a breath. “I was just saying. While I agree with you about how rude and disruptive they were—”
“How disruptive he was, you mean. That Spook character is just like a spoiled child with no manners.”
“I can’t help but think what it could mean for our future.”
“I’m not following what you’re trying to say,” Sonja’s eyes narrowed.
“Well, The Spook Show is currently one of the top-rated reality shows on television. If The Waffle appeared on that show, we could potentially have a huge spike in business. Fans of the show might travel from all over the country just to see the haunted diner.”
Alison’s voice warbled as she said “the haunted diner,” waving her fingers in the air like a ghost.
Sonja sighed. She was so blinded by how angry and scared she felt—especially once Spook brought up ghosts—that she hadn’t even considered the idea that national exposure might help increase business at the diner. While she still felt justified in asking them to get a film permit, she wondered if maybe she had overreacted a little.
“I still feel like they were awfully rude,” Sonja reiterated, justifying her own reactions to herself. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe if they bring a permit for me to sign, I’ll give my permission for them to film in the diner.”
“It could prove to be very profitable,” Alison stated matter-of-factly. “For both of us.”
Battered and Buttered Waffle: Book 2 in The Diner of the Dead Series Page 2
