Bacon Caramel Murder (Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy Mysteries Book 2)

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  BACON CARAMEL MURDER

  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

  CHAPTER 16

  Bacon Caramel Murder

  A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy

  Book 2

  By

  Carolyn Q. Hunter

  Copyright 2017 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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  BACON CARAMEL MURDER

  A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy

  Book 2

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  “My answer is final. You’re fired.” Principal Packer Heins sat behind his desk at the Haunted Falls Middle School, his hands folded neatly in front of him. His forehead was creased, pushing his eyebrow down into a stern, scolding expression—a look reserved only for administrators of education.

  It was late in the evening, and the days had grown shorter thanks to the autumn season. Still, this didn’t deter Packer Heins from working late evenings: he handled budgeting, citations, referrals, and other necessary paperwork.

  It was on that particular night Decker Partle, the school’s former janitor, had caught the principal in his office just before eight.

  “Mr. Heins, please. I’m begging you to give me back my job. I know I messed up, but it’s never happened before.” Decker stood on the other side of the desk, his knit cap in his hands. He clasped them together in a pleaded gesture.

  “How can I be sure of that?” The principal stared at the man, cutting him to the core.

  “I haven’t. I swear.”

  Heins was getting tired of this charade and removed his hands from the desk, turning slightly in his black swivel chair. “That’s not good enough, is it?”

  “I need this job, Mr. Heins. I’ve got child support to pay. If I don’t meet those payments, I can’t see my daughter.”

  “You should have thought of that before you drank on the job at this school,” the principal stated in a firm voice he often used with the students. To him, Mr. Partle needed to be treated in the same manner.

  “Please. Please. It was only the one time,” the former janitor begged, his voice reaching higher tones.

  “And we only get one chance in life, don’t we?” the principal said, the lines on his face deepening with regret. “It states clearly in the contract, which you signed with the school district, that any instance of substance use during working hours is grounds for automatic suspension. Today, Mrs. Crawford caught you with a beer bottle in the prop room behind the auditorium. I think that is evidence enough to warrant your termination.”

  “No, no, it isn’t what you think.” Decker’s eyes turned red from the strain of tears brimming at the corners. His nose followed suit, giving him the same rosy look he’d had earlier that day when Principal Heins had ordered the school security guard to escort the man out.

  “Then what is it?” he asked, willing to give the man one last chance.

  “It wasn’t my beer. I took it off a couple of boys, you know?”

  “Which is what you told me earlier today, and yet you haven’t been able to produce the names of either of the boys in question.”

  “I don’t know all the children’s names,” he yelled, putting his hands out in a plea for mercy.

  “And you did drink the rest of the bottle, did you not?”

  Decker paused, unable to bring himself to answer the question truthfully.

  “Did you not?” the principal demanded again.

  Looking down at the floor, he nodded. “It’s true. It was already open and seemed like such a waste to just dump good beer down the drain.”

  “Your slip-up is hardly admirable. I commend you on taking action to remove the substance from the boys’ possession, but I’m required to take action against the fact that you made the mistake of drinking the beer yourself.”

  Decker twisted his quivering lip up, almost touching his nose, trying desperately to hold in the sob just behind the surface. Tears began streaming down his face.

  “You understand, of course. I had no other choice.”

  “W-What am I going to do?” he blubbered.

  Principal Heins stood up. “That is no longer my problem. I wish I could offer you a better referral, but I can’t in good conscience do that.”

  “Please.”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to call in the authorities to remove you.”

  “But—”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Partle,” he commanded, the sheer power of his gaze forcing the man out the door.

  Breaking down into sobs, Decker turned and walked with his head held low.

  Once the former janitor was gone, Principal Heins brushed his hands together as if to cleanse himself of the issue. He took a seat to finish up the last few papers he needed to complete before heading home for the evening.

  Shuffling folders around and reassessing where he was before he was interrupted, Heins brandished his pen and started making notes. Specifically, there was the estimated budget for the Harvest Festival with a complete layout of potential costs and labor. Once he signed off on it, the festival committee, made up of parents and school board members alike, could run with it.

  In his usual method, he went down the list assessing the necessity of each item.

  He was about halfway through when there was a rapping noise from somewhere in the hall. Pausing, he glanced up toward the open door of his office. The noise came again, a knocking that reverberated through the building.
>
  Principal Heins’ first thought was that Decker Partle hadn’t left the building. “What is he up to?” he whispered.

  A loud clatter from out in the hall completely broke Heins’ concentration, sending a shockwave of adrenaline through his body. On his feet in an instant, he marched over to the door and poked his head out.

  Despite the ruckus that had forced him from his seat, the hallway appeared to be completely still.

  He listened carefully for any sign of the culprit.

  If it turned out to be Partle pulling pranks, Heins would make sure that the ex-janitor never found a job in Haunted Falls again.

  All was silent.

  Moving down the hall, he kept his eyes peeled and his ears astute for any sign of movement. A low rustle of movement came from behind, and Principal Heins turned his head like a watchdog toward the noise.

  The janitor’s closet was slightly ajar.

  Clicking his tongue, he walked toward it. “Mr. Partle, I already told you to vacate the premises. This is your last warning before I call the authorities to come and find you.”

  Gripping the door handle, he swung it open with an authority of command.

  Much to his horror, however, a disfigured and burnt face came charging straight at him. Letting out a shrill scream, he dove to the ground and covered his head just as it almost touched him.

  Maniacal laughter echoed through the air and Principal Heins waited for the attack. He expected to be pushed, shoved, or hit in some way.

  None of this happened.

  The laughter continued, seemingly on a loop.

  After a few moments, he lowered his arms and glanced up. Hanging from the closet ceiling by a few threads of fishing line was a rubbery Halloween mask. A little black sound-effect device fell from it and clattered on the tile floor, still making the incessant laughing noise.

  Picking up the noise maker, the principal pushed the button, silencing it. He gripped the little black speaker with a pulsing hand, turning shades of red and white from his angry grip.

  Standing up, he faced the rubbery culprit.

  Hanging from the bottom of the mask was a paper sign with blood red lettering dripping down it.

  Don’t cancel the school’s annual Halloween party or else!

  CHAPTER 1

  * * *

  Pulling into the police station’s lot, Sonja Reed parked The Waffle Diner and Eatery catering van in one of the closest spots to the front door that wasn’t a handicapped space. Checking her fiery red hair in the rear-view mirror, she adjusted the bun on the back of her head to make sure it was straight. An orange and brown scrunchy with a pattern of autumn leaves on it held her hair in place.

  Grabbing the to-go box off the passenger seat and the disposable travel mug from the cup holder, she climbed out of the van and headed inside.

  “Morning, Marie,” Sonja greeted the receptionist with a smile.

  “Hey, hon. How are ya?” the older woman asked, leaning forward on her elbows and chewing her pencil. Bright black and purple steaks decorated her permed hair. Marie had worked at the station longer than any of the officers, including the sheriff, and was known to be a bit extravagant. “Did you bring me something for breakfast?” She motioned toward the to-go box with the pencil, an eager smile spreading over her bright lipstick covered mouth.

  Sonja could only offer an amused half-smirk. “None today, Marie. Sorry.”

  “Ooh, poo. You’re such a tease,” she complained, waving a dismissive hand at her.

  “Is Frank in yet?”

  “Sure is, hon, but he’s with someone at the moment.”

  “This early in the morning?”

  “It’s Principal Heins from the middle school. He showed up first thing so he could still get to his office before the bell rang.”

  “I see,” Sonja nodded, taking a seat. “I can wait a few minutes.”

  As soon as she had settled down into the chair, the door to the sheriff’s office opened. “As I’ve told you, Decker Partle is the one responsible.” A man with dark well-combed hair wearing slacks and a blue button up shirt stepped out. Sonja had never personally met the new principal of the Haunted Falls Middle School, but she had heard tales of his rigid and authoritarian way of managing the students. Most of the kids who came into the diner on Friday nights to play board games disliked the man.

  “We will definitely look into it and let you know what we dig up,” Frank assured him.

  “I appreciate it. If for some reason it turns out Partle isn’t involved, I’d also consider Tanya Sander.

  “She seems to have some sort of a vendetta against me and the Harvest Festival, too.”

  Frank gave a firm nod of understanding. “Like I said, we’ll look into it and let you know.”

  “Thank you so much, Sheriff. I can’t have stunts like this interrupting the normal flow of things.”

  “Of course,” Frank agreed.

  The men shook hands. “I’ll be in touch,” Principal Heins noted, turning and walking past Sonja.

  Once the man was gone, Frank let out a heavy sigh. “Morning, Sonja.” He smiled.

  “Business as usual?” she teased her boyfriend, standing up and heading over to give him a kiss.

  “Ew, stop all that mushy stuff,” Marie joked with a hearty laugh.

  Frank ignored her. “Do you want to come in and sit down for a second?”

  “I would love to,” Sonja agreed, following him into the office and shutting the door behind her.

  “An early breakfast before work?” Frank asked, motioning to the to-go box in his girlfriend’s hand. Moving around the desk, he took a seat.

  She smiled at him with an eager glint in her eye. “Actually, I wanted to surprise you.”

  Frank was unable to keep his smile from growing wider. “You brought breakfast for me?”

  “Well, since I moved to the Smith Estate, I drive by the station every morning now. I figure I can come by and give you a treat sometimes.” Setting the container and the travel mug down in front of him, she took a seat in one of the chairs.

  “Well, I am a truly lucky man,” he laughed, opening the box to view the contents inside. A freshly made waffle, crisp all along the edges and fluffy in the middle, looked back up at him. A caramel colored syrup topped the dish along with something else crumbled into it.

  “It’s a new recipe I’m trying.”

  “This looks amazing,” he praised his girlfriend. “Is this bacon?”

  “It sure is. There are also bacon bits in the waffle itself. The sauce is salted caramel that I made myself at home with heavy cream, sugar, vanilla, and salt. I cooked the bacon and crumbled it on top so that it stuck in the caramel. A little dollop of whipped cream finishes the whole thing off.”

  “I can’t wait to try it,” he exclaimed, unable to wait another moment. He picked up the plastic fork she had included and took the first bite.

  “How is it?”

  Taking a moment to truly savor the mixture of salty and sweet flavors, he leaned back with a wicked smile of pure bliss gracing his lips. “Sonj’, this may be the best waffle you’ve ever made.”

  “I thought you’d like it,” she laughed, leaning forward and edging the coffee toward him.

  “What’s this?”

  “A roasted Brazilian blend. I also added some of the caramel and a little cream in there as well. I figured it would be a welcome break from Marie’s sludge.”

  “Trust me, it is,” he admitted, picking up the mug and taking a long drink. “No offense to Marie or anything.”

  “Of course not,” Sonja agreed. In some ways, at least for the diner owner, coffee was coffee. She loved the warm and rich taste, but also liked the energy boost it offered. On the other hand, she was a big fan of gourmet coffee blends and recipes. “So, what was up with Principal Heins?”

  “Do you know him?” Frank asked, tilting his head like a curious animal.

  “No, not really. Marie just mentioned him.”

  Frank took a
nother bite and finished chewing it before he answered. “Someone pranked him last night. A scary mask on a string in the closet. That sort of thing.”

  Sonja shrugged. “It sounds like a kid’s prank to me. It’s the Halloween season, you know.”

  Frank pointed with his fork at her. “That’s exactly what I thought at first, but Mr. Heins seems certain it was someone else out to scare him.”

  “Like an adult? What for?”

  “Who knows?” Frank admitted.

  “But he’s dead set on it being someone else?”

  “Seems that he’s gotten a lot of backlash since he canceled this year’s Halloween party at the school.”

  Upon hearing this news, Sonja audibly gasped, her mouth hanging open.

  “I thought you might react that way,” Frank noted.

  Halloween was by and far Sonja’s favorite holiday. Even after her real-life encounters with ghosts, demons, and witches, she still loved the charm and fun of All Hallows Eve. From the candy, to the horror movies, to the costumes, and even the haunted houses, she enjoyed the whole thing.

  “Why did he decide to cancel the middle school’s party?”

  “He didn’t completely cancel it. He just is doing a Harvest Festival at the beginning of October, this Friday in fact, instead of doing something closer to Halloween.”

  Sonja pursed her lips. “Okay, I see. That isn’t terrible, I guess.” Her voice carried a hint of reluctance.

  “That’s what I said, but a lot of the parents and kids don’t agree.”

  “I’d say not. Halloween is a big deal for a lot of families.” She paused, thinking about how she’d catered the party over the last two years. She already was making plans for this year, but most of her recipes revolved around a Halloween theme. That would all need to be altered if they asked her to cater again. “Why did he decide to change it?”

  Frank set down his fork and clasped his hands. “He wants to separate it as far from Halloween as possible while still giving the kids a party. So, no Halloween theme or decorations and no scary costumes. He says it’s because of the murders and kidnapping that happened in town last year and the year before.”