Pumpkin Pie Waffle: Book 5 in The Diner of the Dead Series

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PUMPKIN PIE WAFFLE

  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

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  Pumpkin Pie

  Waffle

  Book Five in the Diner of the Dead Series

  By

  Carolyn Q. Hunter

  Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books

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  Pumpkin Pie Waffle

  Book Five in the Diner of the Dead Series

  CHAPTER 1

  Sonja Reed twitched and wiggled, creating her own semi-rhythmic version of dancing, as the Halloween classic “Monster Mash” played on the radio in the kitchen. Humming along, she pulled out two freshly picked pumpkins she had just purchased that morning from the Hinkley farm and set them on the metallic counter space—ready to be sliced, diced, and cooked into festively delicious treats.

  The Waffle Diner and Eatery was adorned with all sorts of seasonal decorations. Carved jack-o-lanterns with spooky faces lined the front counter of the restaurant. Decorative cobwebs and plastic spiders made their home along the ceilings and windows of the building. There was even a life-size statue of an old decrepit butler, a fake bloody ax in his head, who would whisper greetings to the customers as they came and went.

  “Don’t let me cut you short, but I just wanted to say Happy Halloween,” the creepy voice whispered while the figure’s eyes glowed green.

  One young girl jumped and giggled, grabbing onto her mother’s hand, as the figure let out a surprising screech, followed by dry mechanical laughter.

  Smiling, Sonja watched the happy customers through the service window as she worked on more Halloween dishes. She had a large order of snacks and treats she was scheduled to bring to the local middle school for their own festivities that afternoon.

  Her head cook, Vic, stood twirling his spatula to the music while he took care of the morning’s orders of breakfast dishes, including eggs, hash browns, pancakes, and even waffles on occasion.

  Vic was the one member of the diner’s team that could take on an entire wave of customer orders and never blink an eye.

  Sonja was grateful for his efforts, taking a load off her shoulders while she was busy cooking for the Halloween party. On the previous catering job, she had the benefit and help of her best friend and business partner Alison. On this particular day, however, Ally was spending the morning with her little girl and Sonja was taking on the catering assignment alone.

  Despite the challenges of the holiday’s requirements, and having to work solo on the order, Sonja could only smile. Today was Halloween—the very best day of the year in her opinion—and nothing could ruin her favorite holiday.

  She had surprised herself this year, remaining in good spirits despite her seemingly constant connection with the strange and paranormal. Since Sonja had moved back to Haunted Falls she had experienced multiple run-ins with ghosts. At first, she had been disturbed by the events—frightened to the point of considering leaving the small mountain town—but as her experience with “the other side” became more frequent she had become somewhat used to them (well, as used to them as she could hope or expect to be).

  The events still sent a shiver up and down her spine when they happened, but she had learned to use these physical and psychological reactions as sort of markers to gauge when a ghost was nearby. Only on rare occasions did she ever feel as if she was in danger of the entities, but overall these spirits meant no harm. Most of them had come to her for help—usually in solving some sort of crime or murder—be it a fresh mystery or a cold case.

  While she still didn’t fully understand the world of the supernatural—and never really expected to until she herself crossed over—Sonja had decided the living were far more frightening than the dead.

  With the arrival of Halloween, Sonja had almost expected an increase in supernatural activity. In some part, she also expected to be stressed, frustrated, and afraid due to the spooky nature of many of the encounters.

  To her relief, she was pleasantly surprised at the calm nature of the spirits during this stereotypically ‘haunted’ time of year.

  Grabbing a knife from the nearby magnetic knife strip, Sonja proceeded to cut into the pumpkins, slicing the rind into even strips. As she made her away around each pumpkin she scraped the interior sinew and seeds from the body and placed them to the side in a metal dish.

  One by one she laid the vibrant orange pieces of pumpkin in a large baking pan, spraying a light coating of grease along the rind and sprinkling the classic mix of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and allspice over the top.

  Once all the pieces were lined up on three different baking pans—and all the seeds and innards were set aside—Sonja placed the prepared pumpkin into the previously heated oven to bake.

  In the small mountain town of Haunted Falls, Colorado they knew how to do celebrations right. Every holiday throughout the year had its own array of amazing traditions and town centered events, but none were quite as spectacular as Halloween. And with a town name like Haunted Falls how could you blame them?

  “That was the Halloween classic “Monster Mash,” the exuberant radio host announced as the song came to a close. “Next up, we have another swinging classic for all you boys and girls this
Halloween day.”

  An upbeat and silly tune started up and Sonja recognized it as the groovy sixties theme from The Blob.

  Getting into the new song’s beat, she turned toward the bowl full of seeds and orange sinews and pulled it over to the sink. She prepared a colander and set about washing the innards in small handfuls—separating the stringy goo from the seeds.

  Another goofy screech came from the figure in the corner as two customers stepped in the door. Looking up, Sonja was happy to see Belinda Smith, the town’s richest resident as well as the verified town nutcase.

  Belinda was very open and expressive about her belief in ghosts, and in her firm convictions that she had a sixth sense and could contact supernatural entities.

  For Sonja, however, this was a young woman whom she had come to consider a friend. One of her earliest spectral experiences had been during a séance with the rich young woman, and now Belinda was the only person with which Sonja felt comfortable talking about ghosts.

  Wiping off her hands, she walked out to the dining area to greet her friend.

  Standing beside Belinda was a tall, older woman dressed in a well-tailored pin-striped black suit. The woman stood straight and had a hard serious face. Sonja could only guess this was another one of Belinda’s stuffy, rich relatives.

  But there was one thing that didn’t seem to quite fit with the woman’s appearance. In Sonja’s experience, most professional working women wore their hair up in a bun, ponytail, or similar manner. Either that or they kept a fairly well trimmed, professional cut.

  This woman, despite her staunch posture, black suit, and stone demeanor, had elegantly long and silvery hair that reached well past her waist. It was an impressive feat, to say the least.

  “Belinda,” Sonja greeted her warmly.

  “Sonja,” the dark haired young woman exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you.” In her usual manner, Belinda was dressed in a long, black, spider web patterned dress and a coat of dark red lipstick that contrasted starkly with her naturally pale skin.

  Halloween was the perfect time for Belinda—the young woman could come out and not worry too much about standing out.

  Sonja walked over and gave her friend a hug and said, “Happy Halloween.”

  Pulling away, Belinda looked her in the eye, a devious smile across her blood red lips. “Have you started seeing them yet?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, Sonja hardly had to guess what the young woman was talking about. “Seen who?”

  “Oh,” the woman nodded knowingly. “Not yet, but you will. Tonight is their night.”

  Sonja didn’t bother mentioning how she hadn’t seen or felt a single ghostly presence, not counting costumed ghoulies, all morning and hoped it would stay that way until the night was over. “Who is this with you,” she asked, looking at the tall woman and changing the subject.

  “This is my aunt, Aunt Beatrice,” she said pushing her aunt forward a step. A glimpse of disdain brushed over the aunt’s face. “However, all her friends call her Bella.”

  The tall woman held out a hand, almost as if she were royalty expecting her servant to kiss her ring. “Beatrice is fine for you, my dear,” she instructed Sonja, speaking with a slight, uncommon New England accent.

  Sonja took the woman’s hand and shook it firmly. “A pleasure to meet you, Beatrice.”

  “You are Belinda’s friend that I’ve heard about, I assume?” the woman asked, almost disdainfully.

  Belinda stepped in. “This is Sonja Reed.”

  “I see,” Beatrice muttered, her lip twitching. “And this,” the woman muttered as she motioned around the room with a turn of her wrist, “is your establishment I’ve been told so much about?”

  Smoothing out her apron, Sonja kept her smile—refusing to allow this strange, and surprisingly rude, woman to ruin her favorite holiday. “Indeed it is. Would you care for a booth or a table?”

  The business woman scoffed quietly.

  “We’ll take a booth,” Belinda insisted, pulling on her aunt’s arm and whispering, “Sonja makes the best food in town, which is why I said we should come.”

  “On the house,” Sonja replied, “I insist. For a distinguished family member such as yourself, I couldn’t offer you less.”

  The woman raised an eyebrow—almost as if the gray line would rise right off her forehead. It was obvious that Sonja’s little bit of praise had hit a mark of interest. “I see. ‘On the house?’”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Sonja insisted.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” the older woman snapped.

  “Come on, Auntie,” Belinda urged, still pulling on the woman’s arm like a child with her mother. “She offered us a free meal. Let’s sit in that booth over there.”

  Slowly, the rich businesswoman followed and took a seat, clearly attempting to hide her sneer.

  CHAPTER 2

  Heading back into the kitchen, Sonja checked on the pumpkin in the oven and, seeing it wasn’t quite done yet, got back to sorting the pumpkin seeds.

  “Vic, could you whip up an Eggs Benedict and a chocolate chip waffle for table four?”

  Twirling his spatula again, he nodded in response. “No problem, Sonja.”

  “Thanks, Vic. You’re a life saver.”

  “Special order?” he inquired.

  Scooping another handful of slop from the bowl, she ran it under the water until the seeds were clean.

  “Sort of. Belinda and her aunt are here.”

  “Belinda? So this aunt, she’s a rich relative?”

  Sonja nodded. “And apparently very picky, so if you could pay special attention to their order that would be awesome.”

  Letting out a booming laugh, he nodded. “You got it, boss.”

  “Thanks, Vic. And don’t call me boss. You know it weirds me out.”

  Vic had worked as the head cook in the diner since before Sonja was born—she had just happened to become the new owner and proprietor of the establishment, marking it with her own touch.

  Her best friend’s father had been the original owner. However, when Alison decided she needed to devote more time to her family, Sonja took over—but, of course, not without Alison’s help and advice. Her friend still worked part time at the diner and took great pains to see Sonja’s vision pushed forward.

  “You got it, chief,” he responded.

  Rolling her eyes, Sonja finished washing the last of the seeds. These would make a great addition to the other items she was planning for the school’s Halloween party. Pulling down a jar of coconut oil, she scooped out a hearty amount and placed it in a small oven safe bowl and placed it into the oven alongside the pumpkins. While canola and other vegetable oils cost less, she found that coconut oil acted as a far better cooking oil, especially for high heat.

  After about a minute she pulled the bowl carefully from the oven and drizzled the newly liquefied oil over the seeds in the bowl. Carefully, she then seasoned the bowl with a various mixture of salt, cinnamon, and a pinch of nutmeg. Grabbing a rubber spatula, she stirred the seeds and seasonings until they were completely and evenly coated.

  Getting out another baking tray, Sonja spread the seeds out flat across the metal surface and placed them on another rack inside the industrial sized oven.

  Using the back of her hand, Sonja brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Woo, I’m hot,” she muttered, removing her apron and hanging it on the hook where it usually went. “I’m taking a quick break, Vic,” she announced before stepping outside.

  She was instantly met with the cool relief of the crisp autumn air against her skin. Breathing deeply, she savored the smells of the season—freshly fallen leaves, mist in the air, fires burning in the distance.

  This was definitely her favorite time of the year.

  Taking in the view of the maroon, orange and brown canopy of trees across the mountainside and throughout the valley, she turned to head back into work. Suddenly, a figure among the trees caught her eye.

  Ins
tantly, a familiar and disturbing chill ran down her spine, almost as if the autumn breeze had cut through her skin right into the bones.

  The figure stood there, all dressed in black, a costumed cloak flowing gently in the breeze behind them. A black hood and a well-constructed skull mask that covered most of the upper part of their face hid any identity.

  Sonja’s previous experience with ghostly apparitions taught her that most of them only wanted help in one manner or another. Shakily, she stepped forward and called out to the person. “Hello? Can I help you?”

  With a flutter of the cloak, the figure quickly spun around and ran back into the woods. Even as he disappeared, the diner owner could still feel the chill.

  CHAPTER 3

  Stepping into the kitchen again, she watched as Vic handed the dishes for Belinda and Bella through the service window to one of the waitresses. Turning as he noticed her standing there, Vic smiled. “Just finished up those special orders.”

  “Very good,” Sonja managed to choke out, despite the strange chill that remained under her skin.

  “You okay?” Vic pressed, wiping his hands on his stained apron, his old, yet gentlemanly eyes watching her carefully.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered. “Just have a lot of work left to do.”

  “Alright, then,” he nodded, giving a warm smile of comfort before heading back toward the grill. “By the way,” he added, picking up his spatula and flipping an egg, “Sheriff Thompson just came in. He’s sitting at his normal booth.”

  Finally, the chill from earlier seemed to melt away and resurfaced as an excited warmth. “I’ll go say hi as soon as I finish up these pumpkins for the school today.”

  Opening the oven, she checked the pumpkins. They were soft and ready to be used.

  She knew she might be tempted to rush through the process of scooping the pumpkin and getting it ready for the day’s special menu item of Pumpkin Pie Waffles—a seasonal dish she had created for the Halloween and Thanksgiving holidays —but she took a moment to breathe and take it slow.