Spooky Sweetheart Waffle: Book 9 in The Diner of the Dead Series

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “No,” she replied, heading for the stairs. Once she’d reached the doorway on the second floor, she tried the handle. Just as she suspected, it was locked. The door handle had a very convenient “Do Not Disturb” sign hung on it.

  “Let me try something,” her father said, pulling two tiny metal instruments from his shirt pocket.

  “What are those?”

  “Lock picking tools.”

  “You just carry those with you everywhere you go?”

  “Hey, be prepared, right?”

  After a few seconds of anxiously waiting, the lock clicked open.

  Pulling the door open, Sonja leaped inside.

  She instantly felt sick to her stomach as she surveyed the room. Just as with the room at the manor, the hotel suite was lined with candles. Laying in the middle of the floor, at the center of a yellow pentagram, was Johnny Wales.

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “We’re too late.” Kneeling down, she realized that he was still breathing. “He’s alive,” she exclaimed. She was so fixated on Johnny, that she almost didn’t hear her father’s warning.

  “Sonja, watch out,” came a terrible cry from her father.

  Spinning around, she saw someone standing in the corner, a knife in her hand.

  “Darn you,” the woman complained. Stepping into the light of the candles, the woman revealed herself. Sonja could clearly see that it was Borja Brightstar.

  “Borja,” Sonja heaved a sigh. “Or should I say, Sarah Fitzgerald?”

  “Oh,” she mumbled. “You figured me out.”

  Sonja nodded, eyeing the knife in Borja’s hand. “I know you killed those two men,” she accused her. “But you don’t need to kill Johnny as well.”

  “Yes I do,” she argued, her eyes growing misty in the same way they had earlier back at the manor. “After this long, mourning for my sister, thinking she’d left me alone, and then finally realizing she was dead, I can’t stop now.”

  Taking a small step back, Sonja tried to keep the woman calm. “Why did you do it?” she pressed, working hard to keep the tremble in her voice steady. “Why did you kill Hayden and Carson? Was it for revenge? Did you blame them for your sister’s death? Didn’t you know we already caught the murderer?”

  “Of course, I knew,” she whispered harshly. “You finding her body is what made this all possible.”

  “Made what possible?”

  Borja smiled eerily. “I can finally have my sister back.”

  Sonja paused, mulling that over in her mind. “Have her back?”

  “That’s right. I wanted my sister back, and I got a little help to do it.”

  “That knife you used was meant for some sort of occult ritual, wasn’t it?”

  “It was supposed to bring my sister back to life, that’s what the person on the phone said.”

  Sonja raised an eyebrow. “The person on the phone?”

  “I have no idea who it was. They had some sort of voice distortion on. All I know is they told me they could help solve my problem. They gave me instructions to check my mailbox, and there it was, with a list of instructions.”

  “Why did it have to be those three people?” Sonja asked.

  “The ritual required blood sacrifices. I simply chose the three men who were the last to judge my sister. Once the ritual was complete, I could bring her spirit to my side forever.”

  “You mean trap her with you forever?”

  Borja nodded. “My sister was my best friend. I never want to be without her again.”

  “But you lost the knife at the manor,” Sonja pointed out. “Belinda was arrested because of it, in fact, so how could you possibly finish the ritual without it?”

  Looking down, Borja growled angrily. “I know,” she snapped. “If Belinda hadn’t come into the room during the ritual, I wouldn’t have forgotten it.”

  “So, that’s what happened,” Sonja confirmed, slowly piecing everything together in her mind. “You did the first killing behind my diner. I assume the pentagram from the ritual got covered in a fresh coating of snow overnight.”

  “That’s right, and hiding the body in your dumpster just made my job easier.”

  “Then, to take out Hayden, you hired a driver so no one would realize you were at the manor during the murder. Sneaking in, you broke all the light bulbs in the hallways and rooms you planned on using.”

  “That explains the glass scattered under our feet,” her father added.

  “When my parents came in the back door, you weren’t expecting it. You knocked out my mother and locked my father in the closet.”

  “You’re very astute,” she praised Sonja.

  “You went upstairs, found Hayden there, and you performed the ritual. However, you almost got caught at the very end.”

  “I was forced to run out and accidently dropped the knife in the process. Thankfully, it was dark enough that Belinda didn’t see my face.

  “Then you snuck past the kitchen while I was in there with my wounded mother. You got in the car and had him drive off.” Sonja shook her head. “So how did you plan to kill this next victim without the knife?”

  “I hoped,” she admitted, lowering the plain looking knife, “since I did the other two rituals, I could use a substitute knife and it would still work.”

  “Unlikely,” Sonja’s father commented, clearly having the most experience in matters of the supernatural.

  “Well, it looks like you failed,” Sonja pointed out. “The sheriff is on his way. We have the driver as an eye witness who puts you at the scene.”

  “No,” she cried, her hands shaking. The unstable jazz singer tumbled to the floor, dropping the knife.

  CHAPTER 18

  * * *

  Alison and Sonja carefully wheeled the food cart through the hallway and out into the ballroom. The place was hopping with nearly a hundred or more guests in attendance. Classic upbeat swing jazz played over the loud speakers, and couples from all over Haunted Falls were moving to the music on the dance floor.

  The ballroom was decked out for the occasion with what seemed like a countless amount of red, pink, and white ribbons, balloons, and hearts. The tables were adorned in high-quality cloths with masterful centerpieces that had illuminated plastic hearts and roses coming out of it.

  Pushing the cart of waffles over toward the serving table, she was surprised to hear the music suddenly fading. Belinda stepped forward, dragging Johnny by the hand onto the stage where the DJ was situated. “Everyone,” she spoke into the microphone. “I wanted to thank you all for coming out tonight, and thank you for your patience as we rescheduled the dance.”

  There was a round of applause from the crowd.

  “There are a few people I’d like to thank for tonight’s event. First, Johnny Wales for the decorations.”

  A second round of applause echoed through the room.

  “And of course, the woman who saved both my life and Johnny’s life this last week, Sonja Reed.”

  This time, the applause was accompanied by all sorts of cheers. Sonja felt a little red in the face to have so many people from town looking at her. She just wasn’t used to the attention.

  Additionally, Sonja couldn’t help but wonder about Belinda. This was the third time someone close to her was implicated in a murder, and yet she always seemed to bounce back so easily after these things ended. After all, her own friend turned out to be a killer and had even tried to frame Belinda for the murders.

  The biggest gap in this case that Sonja couldn’t figure out was who the mysterious person was who had stolen the knife from Belinda and given it to Borja? Belinda had various dangerous objects and books she kept under wraps so they wouldn’t fall into wrong hands.

  Pushing these thoughts aside, Sonja tried to enjoy the dance.

  “Everyone make sure to try Sonja’s newest and most delicious recipe yet,” Belinda announced, “available for the first time here tonight—The Sweetheart Waffle.”

  Everyone clapped again, and soon the music was b
ack up and running, but most of the crowd was moving toward the waffles.

  This waffle was cooked with tiny heart sprinkles throughout the batter. The waffle itself was baked in the shape of a heart with a line down the middle, making it perfect to split with a significant other. When served, it was topped with fresh whipped cream, candy hearts, and a homemade, strawberry lemon drizzle. The flavors complimented each other perfectly, creating an excellent sweet and slightly sour taste.

  “Who wants one?” Sonja called.

  Shouts of enjoyment came from the crowd as they gathered around to get a serving.

  After around twenty minutes of serving waffles, Sonja managed to slip away to catch her breath, taking a serving of the Sweetheart Waffles with her. After wandering the ballroom for a few minutes, she found her father sitting in a chair against the wall, happily watching the other couples dance.

  “Hey, want a waffle?”

  “Always,” he replied, taking the plate from her daughter’s hands. “I haven’t had one of your delicious waffles in years.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “In the bathroom.”

  Sitting down in the chair next to him, Sonja grabbed her father’s hand and held it tight. “I’m sorry for not listening to you right away.”

  “It’s okay. You had every right to react the way you did.” He stabbed the waffle with a fork. “There is still a lot of things I need to tell you, a lot of things that you don’t know.”

  Looking at her dad, she raised one eyebrow.

  “I’m here now, and I want to help you as much as I can.”

  Smiling, Sonja couldn’t help but lean in and put an arm around her father. “You can tell me more later. For now, let’s enjoy the dance.”

  “Uh oh,” Samuel smirked, “I see someone coming this way.”

  Glancing up, Sonja saw Frank coming towards her, all decked out in a beautiful blue suit, his blonde hair evenly combed back. “Frank,” she exclaimed.

  “What? Did you think your own boyfriend wasn’t going to be with you at the Valentine’s dance?”

  “I-I don’t know,” she confessed. “You never asked me.”

  “Honestly, I’m not a very good dancer,” he admitted a little sheepishly. “So I was nervous about asking you.”

  “I’m sure you dance beautifully,” she comforted him. “Probably as good as my father.”

  “I dance terribly,” her father admitted, putting up his hands defensively.

  “It’s true. He was a terrible dancer,” Diane added, returning to the group with a smile.

  “Well, never know unless you try,” Frank said. Bowing slightly, he held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

  “Oh, yes, dear,” Diane cut in, taking his hand.

  “Mom,” Sonja exclaimed, laughing.

  “Looks like she beat you to the punch,” Samuel teased, watching Frank take Sonja’s mother into his arms and lead her out onto the dance floor.

  “I’ll let you have him back soon enough,” her mother laughed.

  Sonja and her father watched as the two moved out onto the dance floor, dancing to the upbeat jazz music playing over the speakers.

  “Well, that looks like fun,” her father commented. “Shall we?” Similarly, he bowed and offered his hand.

  Standing up, she smiled. “I’d be delighted, Dad.”