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

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “You’re fine,” Alison said. Standing near the counter, she had a large mixing bowl under one arm and was stirring the waffle batter with the other.

  “I’m just glad that whole thing is over. Pan and the other business owners were right about him.”

  “Did he try to tell you how to run the diner?”

  Sonja rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe it. First off, he was telling us what we should do for the parade.”

  “And what was that?”

  “That we need to set up tables and serve food to the public.”

  “Exactly what we’re already doing.” She set the bowl down, wiping a little flour speck from her cheek. Opening a hot iron, she poured in a ladleful of the batter. It sizzled on contact.

  “I guess that doesn’t bother me so much,” Sonja admitted, walking over to stand next to Allison.

  “Yeah, no skin off our noses, right? Let him think it was his idea,” Ally added.

  “It’s what we were planning on anyway. It’ll just stoke his ego and help satisfy his need to control this whole event.” She scooped some flour out into a clean mixing bowl, carefully leveling off each cup. “Is he seriously meeting with every business along the parade route?”

  “That’s what I heard. He just seems like that sort of guy.”

  “A control freak? He wants to micromanage every single aspect of this celebration.” Sonja shook her head as she added sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg to the mixture.

  Ally shrugged. “Oh well. Nothing we can do about that besides make the best of it.”

  “I didn’t even tell you the worst part.” She turned to her friend and put a hand on her hip.

  “What’s that?”

  “He said he expected me to release a new waffle recipe.”

  “I thought you said you were taking a break for a while?” Alison opened the waffle iron, revealing a freshly cooked waffle—perfectly crispy on the outside.

  “I was, but then he proceeded to tell me exactly what kind of new waffle we needed to be serving.”

  Plating the waffle, Ally’s put her hands on her hips. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was.” Grabbing the milk, she measured a cup into the flour mixture.

  “What was his idea?”

  “Hotdogs,” Sonja sneered.

  “Hotdogs? With waffles? That’s disgusting.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I mean, I can maybe see doing brats or something, but hotdogs?” She shuttered at the thought. Pulling her whisk from the hanging rack above the counter, she began to blend the batter until it became frothy.

  “So, what did you do then?”

  Sonja gave a half-smirk of guilt. “I sort of told him off. I said we’d be willing to do a new waffle but not with hot dogs. It was out of the question.”

  “I would think so.” She placed the plate, now adorned with a pad of butter and a side of raspberry preserves, in the service window. “Order’s up.”

  “Do you think I made a mistake?” Sonja asked, pouring the new batter into the hot iron.

  “No, absolutely not. I mean, what’s he going to do about it? It’s not like he can single handily shut us down.”

  “I hope not.”

  “At most, we might get some angry looks from him during the parade.” Ally gave a warm smile to her friend, comforting her. “Try not to think about him. It’ll just ruin the celebration.”

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t want him to rain on our parade.”

  Ally nodded her approval and pulled a new order slip off the turnstile. “So, tell me. If we’re not doing hot dogs, what is your new idea for Fourth of July waffle?”

  “Who says I have an idea?” Sonja teased.

  “You always have a new idea in the works, Sonj’.” Waving both hands at her friend to spit it out, Ally waited eagerly for an answer.

  Sonja knew she had to give in. “Okay, here is what I was thinking.”

  * * *

  Once the morning rush had ended and the brunch crowd started to filter in, Sonja was finally able to catch her breath. She stepped into the small office just off the kitchen to check their most recent invoice with the grocer and make sure they ordered more flour.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Sonja asked, noticing that the computer was nearly obscured by a hefty looking cardboard box sitting on the desk next to it.

  “Oh, I forgot about that. It was on the back doorstep for you this morning.”

  “For me?” Sonja asked, still a little confused. They hadn’t ordered any new equipment and stock day wasn’t until Thursday. So, what could it be?

  Glancing at the label, she noticed there was no return address. Instantly, she felt her stomach drop, dragging her down. She’d received mysterious packages like this one before, and they never contained anything good.

  A while back, Sonja had realized that someone in town was playing games with her, was trying to scare her. They had left packages on her doorstep, usually containing some kind of cursed or haunted item. Only Sonja, who had the ability to communicate with the spirits of the dead, could activate the powers within these items.

  The consequences were never pretty.

  She and her good friend Belinda, a local volunteer librarian and student of occult studies, had spent many hours trying to figure out who it was that was doing all of this. Eventually, they had deduced that the culprit may very well be a witch who was drawing dark and magical powers from the many strange occurrences around Haunted Falls.

  Unfortunately, they still didn’t have any leads on who the witch might be. In fact, Sonja had forgotten all about the mystery person thanks to her busy life of constantly making up new waffles.

  This large box was a sickening reminder.

  “Well, are you going to open it?” Ally asked, standing in the doorway expectantly.

  “Maybe later,” Sonja admitted, turning to walk out of the room.

  “Oh, come on. I want to see what’s in there.”

  “We have work to do.”

  “Please,” Alison begged.

  Sonja relented, turning back toward the box. Opening one of the desk drawers, she pulled out a box cutter and slid the blade through the tape holding the lid shut. Pulling back the panels, she peered inside, her heart pounding like blacksmith’s hammer.

  “What is it?”

  Sonja raised an eyebrow, a little confused about what she was looking at. Removing some of the newspaper that was packed in around the item, she revealed the woodgrain of a radio set. “It looks like an old radio.”

  “A radio? Who would send you a radio?”

  Reaching inside, Sonja was hesitant to touch it, just in case it had magical properties. However, when her hand brushed the side and nothing strange happened, she let out a sigh of relief. Gripping the sides of the item, she pulled it out.

  “Oh, I see,” Alison said. “It’s one of those old timey radios, like before people watched TV.”

  Setting it down, both women examined it. It was about two feet tall and had an arched structure that reminded Sonja of a cathedral style window. Three little knobs stuck out of the face of the radio.

  “Hey, this would make a great addition to our other decorations in the diner.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah? We’ve already got a whole nineteen fifties theme going on. This would go perfectly.”

  “I think radio was more in vogue during the thirties and forties,” Sonja mentioned, having been a fan of listening to old time horror radio shows on the free archive websites.

  “I still think it would look cool out there.”

  Sonja was beginning to feel a little more relaxed. Maybe this wasn’t from the mysterious witch after all. Perhaps it really was just an anonymous donation from one of the town members.

  “Let’s see if it works,” Alison suggested.

  “Okay.” Sonja didn’t want to say no, and she figured it couldn’t hurt at this point. Finding the cord at the back of the thing, she unraveled it and inserted it into the powe
r strip beneath the desk. “Now, how does this work?” She’d never used a radio this old and wasn’t sure how to go about operating it.

  “Try the knobs.”

  One by one, Sonja twisted on the three knobs until she realized she had to pull the middle one outward. The inside of the radio began to glow, indicating it was on. A low static came from the speakers.

  “It’s working,” Ally squeaked excitedly.

  “Let’s see if we can find an actual station.” Sonja began playing with the knobs, learning how to tune through the different radio waves. Carefully, she began rotating the dial until finally something clearer came in.

  “Stop there,” Alison instructed.

  The sound of voices and cheers could be heard. “It sounds like some sort of celebration.”

  “It does, you’re right. Maybe it’s some sort of early Fourth of July thing?”

  Suddenly, the sounds of celebration were interrupted by a loud bang, accompanied by shouts and then screams. The radio suddenly went silent, the light inside shutting off.

  Both women stood there blinking, wondering what had just happened. “What was that?” Sonja asked.

  “Sounds like it broke,” Alison deduced.

  Sonja played with the knobs. Nothing happened.

  “It’s old. Probably blew out its old components when we tried to use it.”

  Unfortunately, that explanation didn’t account for the screaming noises Sonja had heard going along with the bang.

  The tingle on the back of her neck made her wonder if she’d just encountered something supernatural.

  CHAPTER 3

  * * *

  Despite only being seven-thirty in the morning, the sun was already peeking out over the mountains and the air was at a perfect temperature. A slight mist had come off the mountainside and cooled the little valley so that everyone who was out and working to get things ready for the parade could be comfortable.

  Sonja and Alison had arrived at the diner together just before five-thirty to start setting up. Additionally, both of Sonja’s parents were there along with Ally’s husband, Alex, and her adorable little toddler Cynthia.

  Together they all had managed to get the three long tables set up and decorated for the occasion. The tables cloths showed a scene of an American flag flying near an ocean side lighthouse, waving in the wind. On top of the table, they had weighted centerpieces to keep the cloths tied down in case of a wind. The centerpieces were in the shapes of red, white, and blue top hats and had shiny bits of tinsel coming out the top like a firework.

  Long festive streamers ran along the edges of the table and had also been hung on the outside of the chrome diner and up the light pole. Sonja’s father, Samuel, had done that part, climbing the tall ladder to attach the ribbons at the top. All the while, her mother had stood below him fretting and twisting her hands together, worried that he might just fall off of the ladder.

  Of course, he hadn’t.

  Cynthia, with her beautiful blue eyes, looked with awe at everything around her. She was starting to get a little bit older and could start recognizing the beauty of the holidays, even though it would be another year or two before she started creating solid memories.

  For now, it was just worth it to see the joy in her face as Alex walked around with the girl in his arms.

  “She never ceases to amaze me,” Ally beamed, watching her daughter.

  “She is a pretty special little girl,” Sonja agreed, tilting her head as she admired Cyndy’s golden locks of hair. It was odd, considering both her parents had brown hair.

  Alison raised a knowing eyebrow at her friend. “Don’t tell me you want one?”

  Sonja gasped. “Me? Heavens no. Frank and I aren’t serious enough for that. Heck, marriage hasn’t even come up yet, how could we ever talk about babies?”

  “You never know,” Ally sing-songed, putting an arm around her friend. “By the way, where is that boyfriend of yours?”

  “Probably a few blocks down at the start of the parade. He’s in charge of safety measures, didn’t you know?”

  “Well, he is the sheriff. I could only assume.”

  “Yep, he has to check all of the floats to make sure they are safe before they’re allowed to head out.”

  “Why don’t you take a break and go say hello?” Allison offered, giving her friend a squeeze around the shoulders.

  “But there is still a ton to do. We haven’t even gotten all the waffle irons hooked up and put out yet, not to mention the food itself.”

  Ally rolled her eyes. “I think we’ll survive on our own for a few minutes. Besides, the parade doesn’t start until ten.”

  “And people are going to show up early to get a bite to eat.”

  “Go on. Stop arguing with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” she affirmed. “Now get going.”

  “Thanks.” Walking away from the tables, she headed up the road toward the start of the parade. Winding her way past other shops and restaurants, Sonja was thrilled to see so many patriotic decorations and window displays, all in honor of the holiday.

  Families were already beginning to trickle out onto the streets, setting up lawn chairs to claim the best positions to view the parade when it started at ten.

  After a couple of minutes, she spotted the traffic jam of floats all waiting in the middle of the parking lot on Miller Road to start their procession. Additionally, she quickly found Frank, dressed in his usual tan police uniform, leaning down near a float that appeared to be made up completely of red, white, and blue fireworks.

  A large American flag was positioned on a pole at the back of the float. She assumed that, when the float was moving, the flag would flutter triumphantly in the wind.

  When Frank noticed her approaching, he waved.

  “Hiya, Sonj’,” he smiled, kissing her on the cheek. “What are you doing down this way?”

  “Came to see how things were going.”

  “Fine, but I’m not so sure about this float,” he admitted, motioning to the huge piles of fireworks all laying around in boxes and on display.

  “It does seem a little dangerous,” Sonja admitted.

  “They’re all just casing. Nothing more.”

  Turning, the couple spotted the blonde-haired woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Carol, you helped build this?” Frank asked.

  “Of course. Who else would have built it?” She groaned, shaking her head.

  “I thought your job was pyrotechnics, not decoration and design,” Frank pointed out.

  “That is my job. Unfortunately, it was either build this for Mr. Trivilli or lose my job.”

  Frank raised a surprised eyebrow. “He threatened to hire someone else if you didn’t build this float for him?”

  “He insisted that he deliver the fireworks to the field on the other side of town. He wanted everyone to see him.”

  “Weird,” Frank commented.

  “Agreed.”

  “Anyway, I had to bite the bullet on this one.”

  “But it isn’t the actual fireworks for the show?” Sonja chimed in, trying to understand the situation. She related to Carol in this situation. She was just lucky that Mr. Trivilli couldn’t threaten her job or the diner for not doing what he said.

  “No, none of them are real. It would be impossible to do what he was asking. It takes most of the day to set up the fireworks. If I waited until the parade was over, had to unload the fireworks, and then also set them up, we’d have a pretty late show.” She shrugged. “So, I went ahead and made a bunch of fake ones. Trivilli can just think that he’s delivering him.”

  “I see.”

  “Just don’t let him know, okay?”

  “My lips are sealed,” Sonja promised.

  “Whatever gets the job done, I suppose,” Frank added.

  “Ah, here it is,” came the booming voice from across the parking lot.

  Glancing behind herself, Sonja instantly spotted Hoss Trivi
lli and his wife walking toward them. The event planner had his arms outstretched and a gigantic all-encompassing smile on his face as if he was hoping to give the float a hug.

  He wore a ridiculous suit that was colored with red, white, and blue vertical stripes. The lapels had stars on them.

  His wife, Tina Trivilli, walked slowly behind him, a large sunhat shadowing her head and shoulders. A pair of huge bug-eyed sunglasses encompassed most of her face and the way she pouted her small red lips made her seem even more insect-like.

  Sonja could only guess that she was less than thrilled to be there.

  “Here it is, my dear.” He made a grand sweeping motion with his hand toward the float.

  Lowering her glasses slightly, Tina raised one judgmental eyebrow at the monstrosity before her. “That? You expect me to ride on that thing?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  He turned to Carol and held out his arms. The fireworks professional visibly flinched as he stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “Carol, my dear. You’ve done marvelous work.”

  “Thanks,” she drawled unenthusiastically.

  Frank and Sonja gave each other a knowing look.

  “Now, all the wonderful citizens of Haunted Falls can watch me, Hoss Trivilli, deliver the full display of fireworks for the show tonight. What could be more patriotic than that?”

  “I’m not riding that thing,” Tina announced, interrupting her husband’s pompous and ego-stroking speech. She stood insistently with one hand on her hip and her foot tapping impatiently.

  Mr. Trivilli paused and turned toward her. “Well, of course, you are. I couldn’t very well ride in the parade without my loyal wife by my side.”

  Sonja noted that, compared to her portly husband, Tina was quite the ravishing beauty. Blonde locks fell from behind her hat, and the woman’s blue eyes shined vibrantly in the summer morning sun. When in public, she was always seen standing next to her husband, a large glimmering white smile plastered on her face.

  Clearly, to Mr. Trivilli, Tina was a trophy wife whom he expected to be able to show off at events such as this.