Games, Ghouls, and Waffles (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 19)

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “Some old woman all dressed in black.”

  “An old woman?” Sonja pressed.

  “Yeah, not to be mean or anything, but with her outfit and everything, she kind of looked like a witch or something.”

  Sonja’s mouth went dry with fear. “A witch?”

  “Yeah, she kind of looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her, you know?”

  Sonja nodded, her thoughts turning inward. For the past six months or so, Sonja had become aware that someone was purposefully playing games with her—sending her strange packages, stalking her, trying to scare her.

  It was Belinda’s belief, and now Sonja’s knowledge, that this mystery person was a witch. She was using Sonja’s supernatural powers, and the constant local murders, to feed her own dark magic.

  Sonja and Belinda had been working to hunt the woman down and put a stop to the sinister games. Unfortunately, now Belinda had disappeared into the woods on a “camping” trip. More than ever, Sonja was afraid for her friend.

  “Can I see the die?” Sonja asked, eager for any hint as to what to do next.

  “Sure,” Cass shrugged, shoving another chip into her mouth before opening the little bag and pulling out the stone die. She held it out toward Sonja.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking the small item.

  The instant her skin touched the cold stone, Sonja was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. Her fingers tingled like they had just fallen asleep and the die seemed to radiate energy into her body—causing a wave of nausea to punch her in the gut.

  “Sonja,” Cass shouted as Sonja doubled over in pain, the die slipping from her fingers and bouncing on the floor.

  Vic was quickly on his feet and over at Sonja’s side, but before he could reach her, another flash of lightning and a roar of thunder shook the diner by its foundation. The next second, the front door swung open with a slam, a large and looming figure filling the frame with its bulk.

  CHAPTER 7

  * * *

  “Is everyone okay in here?” came a familiar voice from the entryway, a beam from a flashlight passing over the room.

  Having dropped the die on the floor, the nausea in Sonja’s stomach had all but vanished, allowing her to sit back up and glance up into the light.

  “Sonja?”

  She recognized the voice and stood up. “Frank?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  Picking up one of the lanterns and holding it up, Sonja realized that the large figure in the front doorway was actually two people standing together. One was Frank in his uniform and hat, soaked to the skin. Next to him was another woman in an unfamiliar uniform.

  “What’s happening? Is something wrong?”

  “Sonja, you should sit back down,” Vic urged her.

  “I’m fine,” she argued, stepping forward.

  “I’m here with a representative from the power company. Electricity is out all over the city and we’re going around to check on everyone.” Frank finally lowered the flashlight.

  “In a large outage like this, it’s normal procedure to check key areas of the city. We’re sorry if we gave you folks a scare,” the woman said, stepping further into the glow of the lantern. Now, Sonja could tell that the blue jumpsuit uniform had the local electric company’s logo on the left breast. The nametag said Deena.

  “You sure did,” Vic replied, taking his seat again.

  “My name is Deena Right,” the woman introduced herself. “There have been multiple disruptions in the power system tonight. I met up with your sheriff when the entire city went dark to go through and troubleshoot any problem areas. He felt it was important to make sure everyone was okay as well.” She had a slight southwestern accent, the drawl on every other word or so becoming more apparent as she talked.

  She appeared to be about forty, her once red hair now beginning to gray. It was pulled back into a tight bun. In one hand, she held a long metal instrument of some sort that Sonja didn’t recognize.

  “So, what happened?” Sonja asked, looking at the woman.

  “Lightning struck one of the transformers and blew out power to the whole town. I’ve got my men working on it right now, but I wouldn’t expect it back up until at least the morning, if not later.”

  “I see.”

  “Additionally, we’ve recorded potential lines down in various parts of town. That will slow progress down considerably and we’ll have to get those back up before we can bring the transformer back online. We wouldn’t want any accidental fires or electrocutions to happen.”

  “I worried that the power outage may have caused shorts, or even accidents, among the residents. I felt taking a drive around to check on the businesses and neighborhoods was in order,” Frank noted.

  “But, how did you guys get here so fast?” Cass chimed in.

  “We have emergency procedures in place just for such occurrences,” Deena informed the group. “Whenever a storm this bad is reported to be coming into an area, we have a team on call just in case there are outages.”

  “How the heck can you see out there in this weather,” Sonja asked. “I was just out there about a half hour ago, and I could hardly see across the parking lot.”

  “We drive very carefully,” Frank answered.

  “We should get moving, Sheriff. There are at least four other trouble spots I want to check for the repair log.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to wait until the storm is passed?” Sonja asked, still feeling afraid after her encounter with the barbarian ghost. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she wished that Frank could stay with them at the diner.

  “If we start repair inventory now, we can have the power back up sooner,” Deena noted. “This is just part of the job.”

  “I see,” Sonja sighed.

  “Besides, it isn’t like I’m getting up on a scissor lift in this weather. That would just be utter suicide.”

  “Makes sense.” She glanced over at Frank. She considered what she’d encountered outside in the storm and wondered if she should tell her boyfriend. She wasn’t sure if it was connected to the murder, but it only seemed right to tell him.

  Her look communicated that she wanted to talk to him, desperately.

  He raised a knowing eyebrow.

  “Do you have a second to spare? I need to talk to you before you leave.”

  “We really should be going.”

  “How about just a cup of coffee before you go?”

  Frank looked at Deena who checked her watch. “Time is short, but I guess a warm cup of coffee may be a good boost to get us through the rest of tonight.”

  “Great,” Sonja smiled. “I’ll grab the coffee from the kitchen. It won’t be super-hot. No power and all, you know.”

  “We understand,” Deena noted.

  “Frank? Can you accompany me?” she asked, motioning for him to follow.

  “On it,” Frank said.

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  Sliding out one of the service trays, Sonja lined a number of mugs on it. She figured everyone would want another cup of joe as the night wore on. Grabbing the carafe, which was now Luke warm, she began to fill the mugs.

  “So, what’s up?” Frank asked, leaning against the counter and folding his arms.

  “I have to ask again. Was Cooper Rickerson stabbed with a sword?” Sonja pressed, glancing up from her work.

  “I’m still not at liberty to disclose that information,” he said straight-out, pointing at her.

  Sonja nodded. “I know, I know.”

  “Why?” Frank mused for a moment, examining his girlfriend carefully in the dimness of the lantern light. “Please tell me you haven’t been doing investigating on your own.”

  She shot him an irritated stare.

  Sonja and Frank had a history of having this same argument, but usually she had been doing investigating behind his back. She couldn’t blame him for making the assumption, but it still irritated her.

  “Heck, Sonja, you’re not even remotely i
nvolved in this case. You didn’t find the body. You weren’t at the scene of the crime. The victim isn’t even anyone who you would personally know.”

  Balling her hands into fists, she placed them on her hips defiantly. “No, no, no, Frank. For once, I wasn’t doing any investigating or under-the-radar questioning. Sheesh, don’t you trust me?”

  Frank only tightened his lips in response and narrowed his gaze on her.

  She gave in. “Fine, I haven’t always kept my word in this department, and I’m sorry.”

  “I’m glad you at least acknowledge it.”

  “The point is, I wasn’t snooping around. Not this time.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “When would I have had time? I’ve been here at the diner all darn day.”

  “So, if you aren’t doing investigating on your own, why would you need to know what Rickerson was stabbed with?”

  “You told me earlier you wanted to cover all your bases, right?”

  Frank’s mouth twisted to one side, a sense of comprehension appearing in his eyes. Pulling a stool out from under the counter, he took a seat. “Okay, hit me.”

  “Whether Rickerson was stabbed with a sword may be important, so just keep that in mind.”

  “Got it.”

  “Okay, when I went outside earlier I saw something.”

  Frank leaned in, his voice dropped to a hush. “A ghost?”

  “Something like that, I think.” Sonja rubbed her hands together, partially to ward off the chill in the air, partially to stall while she thought of the best way to share the information. “You know I’m running a party this Friday?”

  “Yeah? A game day, right?”

  Sonja gave a firm nod. “Right. Anyway, Cass was here tonight because I was helping her make a character for Wizards and Warlocks.”

  Frank sneered slightly at the name of the game. While Sonja had never really shared her interest in table-top games with her boyfriend, she’d always gotten the impression that he didn’t care for them.

  “The point is, she created this barbarian type character with a big sword.”

  “Sonj’, I’m not sure what any of this has to do with the murder of Cooper Rickerson.”

  “Just hear me out,” she pleaded.

  “Alright, sorry for interrupting.”

  “When I went outside, after she finished making her character, something tried to attack me.”

  Frank’s jaw went slack and he stood up from his seat. “Someone attacked you?”

  “No, something.”

  “A ghost?” His face was growing pale with fear. Sonja knew, out of all the things in the world, Frank feared losing her more than anything. It was why he was so protective, why he insisted she not ever get involved in murder investigations.

  When he had recently learned of her supernatural abilities, and about the dangerous world of paranormal entities around them at all times, he’d grown even more protective. He was often asking if Sonja had experienced any ghostly encounters, just so he could try to keep tabs on the whole situation.

  Nearly every murder case leading up to this point had something otherworldly attached to it.

  “It was sort of a ghost. I’m not sure yet.”

  “And it attacked you?” he blurted out.

  Sonja put up her hands for him to quiet down. “Shhhh.” She didn’t want to frighten Cass.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “It tried to attack me.”

  “This thing?” he chewed nervously on his bottom lip.

  Sonja sighed, afraid of what she was about to say next. “The entity . . . it looked exactly like the character Cass made for Wizards and Warlocks—an Amazonian barbarian with a big sword.”

  Frank didn’t say anything in response. He just stood there looking dumbfounded by what she had just said.

  “It tried to attack me, but the sword passed right through me. That’s how I know it was a spirit of some sort.”

  Frank still didn’t say anything, like it was impossible for him to come up with a response.

  “Frank? Say something.”

  He swallowed hard. “So, you’re saying that this character, something that a teenage girl made up, came to life and attacked you?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she blurted out. She was beginning to think that Frank didn’t believe her. He’d seen some pretty incredible things himself, and believed many strange stories Sonja had told him. Maybe this was too much.

  “I’m not gonna lie, Sonj’. That’s a little unbelievable, even for you.”

  She shook her head. “I know, I know, but it’s what happened.”

  “And you somehow think that this . . . character is involved in the murder?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s why I’m telling you. She had a sword, after all.”

  “I see.” He pushed the stool back under the counter. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Sonja couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He didn’t believe her at all, and she felt foolish for telling him. He’d believed stories about other ghosts, so why not this one? Sure, it was pretty fantastical, but weren’t they all? “Whatever.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you think I’m crazy.”

  “No I don’t. I believe in your ability to see ghosts, don’t I?”

  “But you don’t believe this story.”

  Frank placed his hands on her shoulders. “Look, I believe you saw something, probably a ghost even, but I doubt it was some fantasy character, and I doubt it has anything to do with the current homicide case.”

  “If you say so,” she grunted.

  “For once, Sonja, I think this is just a cut and dry murder. Nothing strange, nothing supernatural.”

  “How can you be sure?” she argued.

  “Hey, not every murder needs to have a ghost attached.” Leaning in, he kissed her on the cheek.

  Sonja refrained from pulling away irritably. Acting irrationally wouldn’t help the situation.

  “Now, I’ve wasted too much time. Deena and I need to be out checking on other locations. Stay here until the storm passes,” he ordered, pulling his hands off her shoulders and heading through the swinging door into the dining room.

  Sonja cursed under her breath. If Frank didn’t believe her and wasn’t going to look further into the connection between this ghost and the murder, then she was going to have to do it herself.

  Again.

  Grabbing the tray of mugs, she headed out to the table.

  CHAPTER 9

  * * *

  Fortunately for everyone stuck at the diner, the worst part of the storm seemed to let up around midnight. Sonja gave Cass a ride home and asked if she could hold onto the little twenty-sided die for the time being. She didn’t tell Cass the truth about why she wanted to hold onto it. Instead, she told her she wanted to check the balance of the die to make sure it wasn’t heavier on one side or the other. The teenage girl had given Sonja a confused glance, but ultimately gave in, handing it over.

  Sonja was very careful to not touch the item with her bare hands again, and slipped it into the bottom of her purse.

  The rain started to pick up a little as she headed home, but not to the same extent as earlier. Her visibility was never diminished to dangerous levels.

  Arriving at home, a small guesthouse behind her parents Victorian, she tried the light switch in the entryway. She wasn’t surprised when it didn’t work. Dumping her purse on her desk, Sonja opened her laptop. With any luck, she’d still have a battery charge.

  The window, situated just over the desk, looked out over the rainy backyard and woods.

  The screen on the computer came to life with the background of a cute fuzzy cat staring back. The icon in the bottom corner indicated that there was at least fifty percent of the battery remaining. Good, Sonja thought. It meant she probably had over an hour left.

  Due to the fact that the power to the internet modem was off, the wireless was also g
one. Instead, Sonja pulled out her phone and turned on the tethering feature that allowed her to use the wireless internet through her cell service.

  She could do her research until either her phone or the computer died. Luckily, her phone was at ninety-eight percent.

  Shifting her chair closer to the desk, she used a handkerchief to carefully remove the die from the bottom of her purse and set it where she could see it in the dim light of the screen.

  Opening her browser, the first thing she typed into the search bar was stone twenty-sided die. A list of results popped up, most of them ads for stone and metal dice for sale—new ones. She noted with some trepidation that the prices for many of these specialty dice were exorbitantly high. It seemed unnecessary and excessive since you could get a plastic die for less than a dollar. Not exactly helpful.

  She was looking for any information on potentially unique, antique, and haunted dice.

  She scrolled through two or three pages before moving onto her next search. This time, she typed in stone dice with roman numerals.

  As before, she mostly got ads for items on sale. It seemed there was some small community of people who spent a lot of money collecting various types of dice. It was an odd hobby, Sonja thought, but not any stranger than specialty coins, buttons, or any other useless collectible.

  Sonja glanced down at her battery. It was already at forty-five percent and draining quickly. Unless she could narrow down her search more quickly she was going to be stuck with no new answers until the power kicked on.

  Thinking hard, she tried to think of a better search phrase. Finally, she settled on Antique Roman Dice.

  She waited a moment for the page of results to load, and then her jaw dropped. The first result to pop up was an image of a small stone twenty-sided die with roman numerals, an almost exact copy of the one sitting on her desk. In fact, if she didn’t know better she would have sworn it was the same die.

  Reading on, she found that back in two-thousand-and-twelve a European museum had acquired a stone die—twenty-sided—that scientists dated back to the Roman Empire.