Zombie Waffle Murder (A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 8)

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Zombie Waffle Murder (A Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 8) Page 4

by Carolyn Q. Hunter


  “Why didn’t you say so? I would have brought them out something sooner,” she sighed, plating the greenish waffles and topping them with the red gooey looking slop. Setting it all on a tray, she headed out to the table.

  Patty and Chandler sat in the same seats as the day before, only this time they both looked pale and sickly.

  Patty looked the worst of all, like she’d been in a fog since the day before.

  Kamson didn’t appear to be with them.

  “Hi, guys. Here are your Zombie Waffles,” Sonja announced, attempting her best cheerful tone as she set out the plates in front of them.

  Patty blinked a few times as if just waking up and managed a weak smile upon seeing the food. “Thanks. It looks tasty.”

  “I whipped it up special, just for you guys,” Sonja said, even though it wasn’t completely true. “I figured you all deserved a treat after yesterday. On the house, of course.”

  Patty looked up, her eyes wide and red from crying. “Oh, no. We couldn’t take these from you for free.”

  Chandler wrapped an arm around his girlfriend, giving her shoulders a tight squeeze. “Sure, we can, babe. She’s just trying to do something nice for us, and I think you need this.”

  Sonja was surprised by the young man’s deep rumbling voice. She knew she’d heard it the day before, but he was so soft spoken and seemed to speak so little.

  “Can I get you guys anything else? Whipped cream? Chocolate chips? Anything.”

  Patty’s lip quivered, but her wide eyes managed to look like a delicate child. “W-whipped cream maybe?” she asked in a tiny squeak of a voice.

  “Absolutely.” Turning to head back into the kitchen, the bell over the front door rang as Frank and one of his deputies stepped in.

  Having spent his evening at the station, Frank looked as haggard as the athletes did. Sonja walked over and embraced him tightly, realizing just how deeply she’d missed him. Even though they’d only been married a short time, Sonja couldn’t help but realize just how much she’d gotten used to having someone else in her bed at night.

  It was a comforting sensation.

  Kissing him on his stubbly cheek, she smiled. “I’m glad to see you. Need some breakfast?”

  Frank sighed, a man with a heavy burden. “Sorry, Sonj’. Maybe later. I’m unfortunately here on official business.”

  Sonja’s mouth turned into an O shape of surprise. “Official business. Don’t tell me you’ve already found the killer?”

  “That’s just what I intend to find out.” With one final squeeze of her hand, he spotted the couple in the corner booth and walked that way.

  Sonja felt the blood drain from her face as she realized what was about to happen.

  “Chandler Caston?” Frank asked, looking at Patty’s bald-headed boyfriend.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I need you to come down to the station with me.”

  “What? Why?” Patty blurted out, standing upright.

  “I just need to ask a few questions.”

  “B-But you already interviewed all of us yesterday,” Patty barked, irritation in her voice.

  “There has been a new development.”

  “No, no. You can’t take him. We just got our food,” Patty ranted, drawing attention to herself.

  “I’m sorry, but this needs to happen now.” He narrowed his eyes at the young man. “Now, you can come with me willingly, or I can take more drastic action.” It sounded like a threat, but Sonja knew Frank was just doing what he felt was right. If he had strong enough reason to bring Chandler in, that meant whatever he had was fairly solid.

  “Hold on,” the bald man finally spoke, standing up and gently pushing his girlfriend into her seat. “What right do you have to take me away like this?”

  Frank’s lips tightened impatiently. “Your initials are CC correct?”

  “You obviously already know that,” he snapped. “So, what?”

  “The arrow that was used to kill your friend, Ruby, had the initials CC on it.”

  Chandler’s face grew even paler. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving up and down nervously. “What? How is that possible?”

  “Not to mention, your fingerprints were the only ones found on the arrow as well.”

  At the sound of that news, Patty’s eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.

  Chapter 7

  “Are you hungry?” Sonja asked as she stepped back into the kitchen. She set two untouched plates of Zombie Waffles on the counter. They’d been left behind on the table in the corner booth. After Chandler was taken away by the police, Patty had gone into crying fits. Sonja had tried to comfort her, but ultimately the young woman apologized and said she needed to head back to the hotel.

  At the very least Sonja offered to maybe bring some food by later and Patty gave her the hotel room number. With that, she’d stomped off out the door, all the eyes of the other customers following her.

  “I won’t argue with free food,” Ally joked, trying to keep the situation light.

  “One of the benefits of owning the place, I guess,” Sonja said. While the waffles were in perfect condition, not even a single fork had touched the food, once a dish touched a customer’s table you couldn’t serve it to someone else.

  Today, Sonja was fine with that.

  Picking up a fork, she dug into one of the plates, slicing through the greenish waffle and getting a hearty serving of the red topping. She slipped the fork in her mouth and closed her eyes, enjoying the mingling sweet and zesty flavors dancing on her tongue. Her lips puckered slightly at the taste, but it was oh so good.

  Ally topped hers off with a dab of whipped cream before digging in. “Oh, man, Sonja. This is amazing—despite the name and all.”

  “Thank you,” Sonja said.

  “So, do you think that Chandler fellow really killed her?”

  Sonja took another bite, chewing it and swallowing before answering. “That’s what Frank will find out, I’m sure. Fingerprints and his initials on the arrow seemed pretty incriminating. I was surprised he didn’t just arrest the guy on suspicion of murder.”

  “He basically did. He just didn’t bring out the cuffs.”

  “True. Maybe he was trying to create less of a scene.”

  “A lot of good that did. His girlfriend was in fits.” Ally took another bite, her eyes practically rolling back in her head as she savored the taste. “So, now for the bigger question. Do you think that he did it?”

  Sonja furrowed her brow. “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because you’re the town’s resident sleuth. If you’re not poking into the case, or at least have an opinion, I’d be surprised.”

  Sonja hesitated.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to start holding off on things now that you’re married,” she accused.

  “Hey, I have to keep the peace at home, you know?” Sonja pointed out.

  “I know that, and I get it. However, I also know how my best friend’s brain works.”

  Sonja rolled her eyes, sitting down on a metal stool near the counter. “If Frank was already able to match fingerprints, it also means that Chandler had his prints on file.”

  “Meaning he has a criminal record.”

  Sonja pursed her lips. “Just another reason to point the finger at him.”

  “You know, teachers and government employees all have to get printed when they apply.”

  “True, but I can’t help but believe it’s a criminal record.” Leaning on the counter, she took another bite. “This really needs a cup of coffee to go with it.” Hopping up, she headed over to one of their hot coffee makers and poured a mug full. “Still, I can’t help feeling bad for Patty. She loses her sister and now her boyfriend is the number one suspect.”

  “Are you going to take her some food like you offered?”

  “Soon, yeah. I can’t blame her for wanting to get out of here. Everyone was staring.”

  “I’d hate that, too,” Alison admitted.


  Sonja twisted her lips to one side, thinking. What reason could Chandler have for killing his girlfriend’s sister? Were they having a secret fling on the side that went sour? Was Chandler hiding his past, potentially criminal, from his girlfriend but Ruby found out?

  Not knowing the group of athletes very well, Sonja could only guess.

  She wished there was some way she could help more in this situation, especially considering she’d been the one to find the body—not to mention how distraught Patty was.

  Suddenly, a lightbulb turned on in her head. “Hey, can you hold down the fort while I’m gone?” she asked, standing up and already removing her apron before Alison could answer.

  “I always do,” Ally said with a smile.

  Chapter 8

  Sonja remembered reading about a ritual to summon and communicate with the dead. It had been in a dusty old book in the local library’s basement—before the room of occult books got burnt up in a wild accident.

  If she recalled correctly, it only worked if a spirit was already active on the plane of the living. Otherwise, it was very difficult to get in contact. It was like there was a barrier or veil between the world of the living and dead, and that veil was next to impossible to penetrate unless you knew what you were doing. Some places, like Haunted Falls, had a thinner veil between this world and the next, but only those with the ability—such as Sonja—could access it.

  Despite having been able to see ghosts for the past few years, Sonja still didn’t pride herself on being a master of clairvoyance. She’d gotten herself deep into some occult practices and rituals back when she’d first moved to town, but it had turned up some frightening and rather dangerous results.

  Now, she made sure to tread lightly when possible. She only talked to ghosts if they wanted to talk.

  In this case, however, she knew for a fact there was a ghost in the woods. She’d spotted the bluish figure twice.

  Her hope was that the spirit perhaps witnessed something in the woods that day that it would share with Sonja—something to verify if Chandler really was the murderer.

  However, to do what she wanted, Sonja needed something that had belonged to the murder victim. She knew, as speculation from other ghost hunters might have it, that the veil where the murder had occurred was thinner now until Ruby’s spirit had fully crossed over.

  If that was true, she had a better chance of attracting the ghost.

  Parking at the hotel, Sonja made her way upstairs to the room Patty had said she’d be staying in. She carried a Styrofoam carry-out box with her loaded up with fresh steaming waffles. She also brought the raspberry sauce in a small plastic container on the side.

  Rapping her knuckles on the wooden door, she waited patiently with a smile on her face, hoping that Patty had calmed down.

  When no answer readily came, she knocked again.

  She waited a few more seconds, but still, there was no answer. Had Patty gone to sleep? Did she go out for some fresh air?

  Or, perhaps she never even came back. If that was the case, where was she?

  Sonja decided to knock one more time, just to make sure. Rapping again, she was surprised when the next door over opened instead.

  Clinging to the door as if it were holding him up was Kamson. His eyes looked sunken with dark circles under them and his skin had a greenish-pale quality. She quickly realized that it was a result of his make-up from the day before still partially being on his face, smeared all about as if he’d come back to the hotel and simply face planted into his pillow.

  Still, underneath it all, he looked sickly.

  “Oh,” Sonja squeaked, surprised by the suddenness of the man’s appearance.

  Of course, she realized, Ruby wouldn’t have shared a room with her sister. The two couples would get adjoining rooms.

  “You,” Kamson slurred, either an indication of having just climbed out of bed or early morning drunkenness. His eyes darted down to the box in her hands as if examining a crucial clue to a mystery. “Ooh, you’re that diner owner chick, huh?” He wobbled back and forth as if he had no bones in his legs but managed to catch himself on the door frame.

  He was drunk, Sonja decided.

  “Yes, Sonja Reed, remember?”

  He pursed his lips and made a wet noise. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Is Patty in? I brought her some food.” She held up the box, steam wafting from the corners.

  Kamson turned sincerely green this time around. Sonja prayed he didn’t throw up right there and then. Swallowing hard and licking his lips, he maintained his composure. “I haven’t seen her today.”

  “Oh, well, can you give her this food when she gets back?” she asked.

  He hesitated, looking at the box with his lips tightly clamped. “Only if you bring it in and put it in the fridge yourself. I don’t think I could touch the thing,” he admitted.

  It seemed he was growing steadier, coming out of the stupor a little. He may have been drinking and then tried to sleep it off.

  “Sure thing,” she said, all too glad to go inside. This was her chance to get something that belonged to Ruby to use in the ritual.

  Kamson opened the door wide, allowing her passage while also standing as far back from the food as possible. Entering the hotel room, the air was heavy and warm with a sort of stale scent just below the surface. The lights were off, and the heavy curtains drawn, only allowing a thin stream of sunlight through across the carpet. Still, Sonja easily spotted the mini fridge under a series of counters with a sink and a coffee pot.

  To save Kamson any trouble, she rushed over and slipped the food inside the fridge. “Okay, there you go.”

  Sighing, he walked into the room after her, letting the door close. “Sorry about that. I guess it’s pretty obvious I’ve had a few drinks,” he sighed, sitting on the corner of the king-sized bed. The covers were all a mess and the tell-tale signs of green makeup were smeared on the pillow.

  Sonja, while not much of a drinker herself, sympathized. “It’s only understandable after yesterday’s events,” she told him.

  “I just wanted to forget everything.” He shook his head, his hair damp with sweat. “Do you mind opening the curtains?” he asked, waving toward the window.

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked.

  “I can’t very well hide in here forever, can I? I’m sure that sheriff friend of yours will have more things to ask me and the others today.”

  Sonja refrained from mentioning Chandler. Turning to the window, she grabbed the curtain and pulled it wide open, letting an eruption of sunlight invade the room.

  Kamson groaned painfully, throwing up a hand in front of his face like a vampire blocking the sun. Sonja half expected him to hiss, but he didn’t. “That smarts,” he said, slowly blinking to allow his eyes to adjust.

  Looking at the coffee pot again, Sonja spotted a cheap rubber bracelet—the kind you get at runs or marathons for charity events—next to it. It was pink, and it had to belong to Ruby. Picking it up, she slipped it into her pocket discretely.

  “What are you doing?” Kamson asked.

  Grabbing the free pouch of cheap coffee nearby, she ripped it open. Pouring the grounds into the top of the machine, she took the carafe to the sink and filled it. “I thought you might want a touch of coffee to take the edge off,” she said, hoping her little act of charity would keep him from suspecting that she’d just taken something.

  The rubber bracelet was probably only worth fifty cents, but Sonja hated to think she was a thief.

  He managed a smile. “Thanks.”

  “I actually had a cardboard caddy of coffee I was going to bring with the food, but I forgot it at the diner,” she admitted. “It seems you need the coffee more than Patty does.” She poured the water in the top and turned the machine on. “There you go.”

  “Thanks,” he returned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His lip quivered, and his eyes swelled as if he might cry.

  Sonja, unable to refrain
from being helpful, walked over and stood over him. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. There is just some . . . things I wish I had been able to tell Ruby before—” his voice trailed off.

  “Before she died?” Sonja asked.

  A single tear ran down the man’s face. “Yep,” he managed to say.

  Seeing a possible opportunity to learn more about the whole situation around the murder, Sonja took a seat next to him. “I know I’m not Ruby, but why don’t you tell me? It might help you feel better.”

  “You think so?”

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

  Taking a deep breath, he let it out with a huge whoosh. After some hesitation, he finally spoke. “I cheated on her a few months back and she never knew about it.”

  Sonja tried not to judge him but could see the anguish in keeping such a secret. “Go on.”

  “It’s worse. I slept with Patty.”

  Sonja’s jaw dropped, but she quickly closed it to not let her shock be seen. “You slept with Patty?”

  “Yeah. I was drunk.”

  Sonja wondered if he had a bit of a drinking problem. “I see.”

  “I was going to meetings to get help,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “But I slipped up that night and,” he hesitated, biting his lower lip. “It just sort of happened.”

  Sonja was beginning to wonder if Patty was intoxicated that evening as well. It would make the most sense. After all, she was cheating as well.

  She knew it must have been torture for Patty to keep the secret as well. It might explain part of her response to her sister’s death. A family member getting murdered was hard enough on its own without unresolved secrets to follow.

  “At least you were going to get help, even if you slipped up. Surely that counts for something,” Sonja said, trying to comfort him.

  “I suppose,” he stumbled over his words as he spoke, “I’d only agreed to go if Ruby . . .” His voice trailed off again as if he’d almost said something he didn’t want to.

  “What about Ruby?” Sonja pressed, wondering what it was that hadn’t been said.

 

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