Halloween Waffle Murder
Wicked Waffle Series Book Ten
Carolyn Q. Hunter
Summer Prescott Books Publishing
Copyright 2018 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder
**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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Contents
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
Also by Carolyn Q. Hunter
Author’s Note
Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing
Prologue
The printer hummed to life with some difficulty, like a rusted old car trying to crank itself into action once the key had been put into the ignition. Gerald smiled at the trusty piece of technology, patting its tan body comfortingly. Despite its age, he’d never seen fit to replace it. If he could plug it into his newest computer, or had a workaround, he would use it.
Something about its slow and careful pacing just felt right. It wasn’t unlike himself, methodical and hard working. Never willing to give up on someone in need—or to protect someone who asked for it.
Taking a seat at the desk in his home office, he moved the mouse and the screen on his computer lit up. His e-mail window sat open still from the night before when he’d just put the computer to sleep and gone to bed.
This morning, there were a few new emails. That meant a handful of new requests from customers. He wouldn’t have time to address them all, of course. He was in his seventies now, and he had less time and less energy to do as much as he used to. No, he’d pick his favorites—the requests that interested him the most.
He moved his mouse to the top of the list and began the process of going through the items one by one. He liked going in order, dealing with the requests that came in most recently and moving backward. There was comfort in ritual and habit. For a man who spent a large portion of his time traveling and dealing with people in various places around the country, he liked to find order where he could.
However, this time was different. Before he could click on the topmost entry in his e-mail, something caught his eye.
The third e-mail down had a badge on it—an indication that it had come in from an official police account. “Haunted Falls Police Department,” he wondered out loud, hovering the mouse over the badge and getting a pop-up about the specifics of the account. “Very intriguing.” He smirked. It wasn’t often that a professional police force asked him for help.
He liked it. It stroked his ego, made him feel good about the years of work and effort he’d put into his career. His skills were clearly worthwhile to someone out there, and not just some weirdo in a backwoods cabin who insisted that there was something wrong happening when it was nothing.
“Let’s see what you have to say,” he grunted happily, the evenly trimmed scruff of his moustache prickling against his mouth as he smiled. As soon as he opened the e-mail he saw the picture pop up. He leaned in, even more interested. “Well, aren’t you a pretty one?” A few short paragraphs of text accompanied the image, which he went over quickly to get the gist of what was happening.
That was enough for him.
Hitting the print button, the familiar squeal of his printer began. The whir of the print head got to work, zipping back and forth along the paper and printing outlines of ink. In a matter of a few minutes, the image had finished coming out. Ripping along the serrated line between pages, Gerald took a closer look at the woman.
“It’s a real shame, my dear,” he whispered, folding the paper and putting it into his suit jacket pocket closest to where his necklace hung against his chest—the one with the pentagram on it. He grabbed his overnight bag which he kept packed at all times, checking the front pocket to make sure his wallet with his professional license was in there.
Without hesitation, he left his apartment and headed down the steps to the lot below where he climbed into his nineteen-fifties American car. Shutting the door, he pulled out of his parking spot and headed for the highway. “Halloween in Haunted Falls. Seems fitting,” he chuckled to himself.
Chapter One
“Mmm, something smells good in here,” the sleek black cat said as she hopped up onto the kitchen table next to a large orange pumpkin that was sitting there just waiting to be carved. The picture window above the sink of the cottage had black paper cutouts of cats, bats, and witches taped up while a string of orange holiday lights accented the decorations.
The window itself sat slightly ajar, letting in a refreshingly cool autumn breeze. With it came the scent of freshly fallen leaves and wood fires from people’s homes in the valley below.
“Hi, Belinda,” Sonja greeted her feline friend.
The cat peered curiously into the large mixing bowl where a dark batter had formed. “What is it?” she asked.
Sonja, who was stirring it with a wooden spoon, smiled at the animal. “It’s my latest waffle recipe.”
“What kind?” the animal urged.
“It’s the special one for Halloween this year.”
The cat sat back on its haunches. “Let me guess. You’re going to unveil it at the Halloween Masquerade tonight?”
“How did you know?”
Belinda rolled her eyes. “I know you, Sonja. You always have some new delicious waffle recipe up your sleeve for holidays and special events.”
“Am I that predictable?” she asked, stopping her stirring and tilting her head to one side.
“Hey, it’s not a bad thing,” Belinda argued.
Sonja chuckled as she walked over to the counter and picked up the bowl of chopped peanut butter cups. She poured them into the mixture.
“So, are you going to tell me what it is, or not?”
“Well, every year when I’d go trick or treating as a kid, the one candy that I coveted most, and that everyone in my school did as well, was peanut butter cups.”
The cat raised its eyebrows. “Ooh, a peanut butter cup waffle?”
“You got it.” She tilted the bowl closer for her friend to see. “A chocolate, chocolate waffle. Dark cocoa, flour, sugar, eggs, the works.”
“And where does the peanut butter come in?”
“As a matter of fact,” Sonja noted, heading back over to the counter. She picked up her favorite waffle iron she owned—gifted to her by her friend Alison from the diner during a previous Halloween. It was in the shape of a jack-o’-lantern. “I’m going to make the waffles in here. Then, I’m going to layer on the peanut butter filling I’m making, and then top it with another waffle to make a sandwich.”
The cat licked its lips. “Yummy!”
“Yep, the peanut butter filling will be made with fresh peanuts that I’ll grind down myself, confectioners’ sugar, and whipping cream.”
“I can’t wait to try it,” the cat declared.
At this comment, Sonja paused and chewed her lower lip nervously. “Can you. . .” she hesitated. “Can you even eat it? I mean, aren’t cats allergic to chocolate?”
The cat blinked a few times as if considering this idea. Belinda, unbeknown
st to most people, was once a human. In fact, the cottage and estate grounds where Sonja lived belonged to her. Sonja acted as sort of a caretaker.
Unfortunately, a witch’s curse had turned Sonja’s friend into a feline a couple months earlier and they were both still navigating the obscure change.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said.
“But, you’ve eaten most whatever Frank and I have,” Sonja thought as she methodically stirred the batter.
“Yes, but there hasn’t been any chocolate in anything. A lot of fish, though.”
It was true. Not to mention, Sonja had unwittingly started making more fish-based meals. She hadn’t consciously thought of it, but she supposed it had to be because of her friend who was now a cat.
Sonja set down her mixing spoon and headed back to the counter, plugging in the waffle iron to get it warm. She hesitated on her next question, something she’d been tempted to ask in the past but had been uncomfortable discussing. Now seemed as good a time as any to broach the topic. “You know, Belinda, I’m not sure I’ve ever asked you how you’re dealing with being a cat now.”
Belinda waited a moment, crossing her front paws in front of each other, before answering. However, by the calm and reserved reaction to the question, it was clear she’d prepared for it. It was an inevitable discussion. “It is what it is,” she said in a smooth tone.
Sonja was getting down another mixing bowl and setting it down on the counter next to the ingredients for the peanut butter filling. “It doesn’t bother you at all? I mean, you don’t feel like a house pet or anything, I hope.”
“I eat at the table with you guys, so that helps. Is it different and difficult to be so small? To need help with things from you and Frank? To live here with you guys? Sure, it is.”
“I’m so sorry, Belinda.”
“Don’t be. In the end, I’m happy to be with you guys. Living here before in the big manor house was lonely and rather empty. I’m mostly grateful that I’m still alive, and I have you as my close friend. That witch could have killed me, but she didn’t. She decided to turn me into a cat.”
Sonja gave a sympathetic smile.
“Do you ladies need any help before I head to the station?” a low male voice boomed from the hallway just before Sonja’s husband, Frank, entered the room.
“No, I think we’ve got it covered. Ally is coming over in a little bit to help me decorate the ballroom in the main house,” she answered with a smile, admiring her husband in his sheriff’s uniform. “You know, Frank. I’m going to miss that outfit.”
He smirked with one side of his mouth as he walked over to the coffee pot next to the fridge and poured himself a mug full. “To be honest, I’ll miss it, too.”
“I still can’t believe that you’re stepping down after all this time. After all the cases you’ve solved,” Belinda noted, standing on all four legs and brushing her tail back and forth.
“Well, it’s time for a change, and all those cases are one of the main reasons I am stepping down,” he admitted, taking a drink from the mug.
Sonja knew it was more than that. She knew a larger portion of the trouble came from her own supernatural ability to see ghosts. She was always getting dragged into murder cases thanks to restless spirits seeking her help. Worse yet were the witches. The one that had turned Belinda into a cat hadn’t been the first to come to Haunted Falls and cause trouble.
Sonja could feel her chest tighten even thinking about it. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for her husband’s resignation from the position of sheriff. If she didn’t have any paranormal ability, perhaps he would be staying in office.
He’d always been uncomfortable with allowing supernatural elements into his life, especially when they’d involved his wife so closely—but Sonja never suspected it would lead to this.
She tried not to think about it, tried not to blame herself, and got to work whipping the cream for the peanut butter filling. If she could just forget she could see ghosts for two seconds, maybe she could feel better about her husband’s life choice.
Unfortunately, the sound of someone purring robbed her of that ability.
Sonja’s other cat, a ghost of an animal that had once been her father’s pet, leaped up on the counter, snuggling down next to the bowl. Misty was an adorable little thing and was nice to have around most of the time—not to mention easy because it didn’t need to be fed. However, its proximity to Sonja now only brought sadness.
“Is Misty on the counter again?” Frank asked, unable to see the ghost, but having felt a chill brush by him. He also noticed his wife staring at the empty space on the counter.
“Y-yeah,” Sonja noted, realizing she’d almost allowed some tears to well up in her eyes. She couldn’t let Frank see her cry, not now of all times. Not with a Halloween Masquerade party that evening.
It was the first ever Halloween party that she would be personally hosting. Not to mention that it was her favorite holiday of all time. In reality, this party was going to kick off the season. It was still the first week of October, but Sonja wanted the whole month to be festive. The Masquerade seemed like the perfect way to welcome the season of ghosts and witches.
Now, if only those things would stop making her so depressed.
“Anyway, this is the perfect time to make a change in my life,” Frank went on, continuing to drink from the cup. “It’ll be election time again next month and a new sheriff can be voted in without any hassle.”
“I suppose,” Sonja sighed.
With one last large gulp, he finished off his coffee. “Well, I’m off. There is a lot to do to get the office files ready for the next sheriff.” Leaning over his wife, who was avoiding eye contact and instead staring into the bowl, he kissed her on the forehead. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said in a mousy tone, the shame of him quitting really beginning to settle in.
“Oh, and my costume for the party tonight?”
“It’s on order at the shop. It should be ready for you to pick up on your way home tonight,” she assured him.
“Sounds great.” With a wave, he headed out the door.
The cottage fell quiet for a moment except for the sounds of Sonja stirring.
“You can’t blame yourself for him wanting to quit,” Belinda pointed out.
“I know that,” Sonja lied.
“So, stop it,” she said lovingly.
Chapter Two
“I brought coffee and donuts,” Alison sing-songed when Sonja opened the cottage door to find her friend standing outside.
“Oh, you are a lifesaver. Come on in for a second and then we’ll head over to the manor to set up,” Sonja invited her in.
“Thanks,” Alison said, walking past the threshold. “Should I set these on the table?”
“Just for a moment. We’ll bring them with us to the ballroom and eat them there,” Sonja noted. “But first, I want you to try this.” She grabbed a steaming plate from the counter and presented it to her friend. A pumpkin with a chocolate brown face smiled up at her.
“Ooh, I thought I smelled something delicious cooking. Is this your new recipe for tonight’s party?”
“You bet it is. I call it the Peanut Butter Cup waffle.”
“In honor of the best Halloween candy?” Alison asked.
“You’ve hit it right on the nose,” Sonja said, setting the plate on the table.
Alison sat down, picked up a fork, and dug right in.
Sonja leaned in, eager for feedback. “Well?”
Alison continued to chew, her eyes closed as she savored the sweet and salty combination of flavors. “It’s amazing. I think that including the peanut butter cups in the waffle itself really makes it perfect.”
“Fantastic. I’m going to make a whole bunch to serve at the refreshment table tonight.”
“I’m sure they’ll be gone within minutes of the party starting.” She stood up, the waffle plate in hand. “Can I bring this with us to the ballroom? I want to
finish it.”
“Sure thing. I’ll carry the donuts and coffee,” she offered, picking them up from where her friend had set them down.
“Great. By the way, where is that cute little kitty you adopted? I’ve still never seen it,” she pouted, looking around the kitchen for Belinda.
Unfortunately, only Frank, Sonja, and her father—all being aware of Sonja’s paranormal abilities—knew about the talking cat that now lived there. Others knew that she’d gotten a cat, but to the outside world, it looked like a normal pet.
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