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

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  Maybe he had done something unjust, tried to cheat while gambling. Maybe he’d stolen something.

  On the other hand, why had she attacked Sonja twice?

  It just didn’t add up.

  The biggest hitch in Sonja’s theory was that, technically, the character hadn’t been created until well after the murder had taken place. The only explanation was that Cass had purchased the die and started formulating the kind of character she wanted to make the same night as the murder.

  If that was the case, the ghost might have come into the realm of the living moments before the murder had occurred.

  That had to be it, Sonja decided.

  “Sonja? Are you okay?”

  Shaking her head, she looked down at the young woman. “Sorry, just lost in thought.”

  “By the way, do you still have my die?”

  “I do,” Sonja lied. She couldn’t very well tell her that a ghost had stolen it.

  “And you’ll bring it with you on Friday?”

  “Of course.” She smiled at her, trying to cover the lie.

  “Great. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “Speaking of which, I have a ton to get done before Friday. I should be going.”

  “K’, see ya.”

  Turning to go, Sonja’s purse caught onto an old metal umbrella holder for sale. It clattered loudly, spilling its contents—wooden canes—onto the floor.

  “Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry,” Sonja apologized, bending down to pick up the scattered items.

  “It’s no problem, really,” Cass comforted her, bending down to help pick things up.

  Sonja reached out and grabbed a stray cane which had rolled farther than the others. As she did, she noticed the handle seemed lose. “Darn, I think I busted this one.” She held it out to Cass.

  “No you didn’t,” she said, taking it.

  “I didn’t?”

  “No.” Cass pulled on the handle, releasing it from the base and unsheathing the long blade hidden inside. “It’s a sword cane.”

  Sonja’s jaw dropped wide open. “A sword cane?”

  “Yeah, you see? It looks like a normal cane, but the sword is hidden inside. Sort of like an old school concealed weapon, you know?”

  “I need to be going,” Sonja sputtered, new ideas suddenly shooting through her mind like fireworks. If she was right about her new train of thought, it meant she’d been on the wrong track this entire time.

  CHAPTER 14

  * * *

  Sonja debated returning to the diner first, but decided it was safer and smarter to just head home. She could try to do a little more digging to verify what she believed she’d found out.

  Pulling into the circle driveway, she headed straight back to her guesthouse. Easily pushing through the door, thanks to the broken jamb, she walked inside and sat down at her laptop.

  “Please don’t be dead,” she whispered to it. She knew that it had shut off the previous night, but her hope was that it was a supernatural occurrence versus a strictly technical one that had caused it to go blank.

  Opening the top, the screen flickered on.

  “Thank goodness.”

  Typing in her password, the same internet window from the night before came up. Again, Sonja turned on the tethered Wi-Fi on her phone. Both batteries just needed to last a little bit longer. All she needed was a few minutes.

  First, she typed in Murders with Swords. The first few hits were stories about murder cases from the early twentieth century—sort of a Jack the Ripper type deal.

  That wasn’t what she was looking for.

  Scrolling further down, she found a few more modern articles. These ones were from the last few years. “That’s it,” she whispered clicking on the first one.

  She read on, learning about a recent string of murders—all with what appeared to be a sword wound. None of the victims seemed to have any connection to one another. Sonja jumped over to the next article, hoping for clearer answers. This one was a little more detailed.

  It seemed that, after some digging, the police had realized each victim was a man who was part of the same gambling ring. They all played the race tracks in various cities.

  So, Peters had been right. This was most likely a hired “debt collector” by the big companies running the gambling ring for the race tracks.

  Sonja couldn’t be sure about her assumptions, and they were fairly far-fetched, but she had to at least bring this information to Frank. If there was anything there, he’d be able to figure it out. After all, she had no desire to go head to head with a professional killer, if in fact this was a professional killer.

  She reached out and picked up her phone, dialing her boyfriend’s phone number.

  The phone rang once, then twice.

  “Put it down,” came an order from behind her.

  Glancing back, she gasped. Deena stood there in the closet door, the long orange tool in her hand. Sonja felt her heart flip-flop as she realized the mistake she’d made. When she came into the house, the deadbolt wasn’t set like she had left it earlier that day.

  It was unlocked.

  Sonja heard the phone go to voicemail as she set it down on the table, making sure not to hang up.

  “You’re a smart girl, you know,” Deena said, patting the pole in her hand.

  “Thank you, I guess,” Sonja took the compliment.

  “When I dropped my pole earlier and you got a glimpse inside, I knew I needed to keep an eye on you. Can’t ever trust people who are so buddy, buddy with the police, you know?”

  “Buddy, buddy?” she tried to sound innocent.

  “Of course. You and the sheriff snuck off into the backroom the other night like a married couple sharing secrets. I knew then that I had to keep a careful eye on you two.”

  Sonja put up her hands. “Fine. You’ve caught me. I am dating Frank. I hope you weren’t interested in him,” she joked, trying to keep the tense situation light.

  “Stand up,” she ordered, motioning with the pole.

  Sonja obeyed, keeping her hands in the open. “So, since you’re here, I assume that you are the debt collector, the one who killed off men who couldn’t pay their racing debts.” She was careful, trying to keep her cool despite being in the room with a skilled murderer.

  “That’s right,” she confirmed. “Rickerson was the last name on my contract.”

  “That’s what you meant when you said you had been working for private companies up until six months ago, isn’t it?”

  “Correct again. You’re a regular cop, aren’t you?”

  “Not really. I just happen to date one.”

  “Just as bad. The girlfriends always seem to be a snoop.”

  “So, did you take the job out here just to get closer to Rickerson?”

  “Partially, I admit. On the other hand, I wanted to quit after this last hit and live a normal life. Of course, since my bosses have some connections on the inside of the power company—”

  “Which is how you got this high-up position so quickly?”

  “Yes, and I doubt they would let me just go off my jolly way at this point. I’m a liability.” She brandished the orange pole and pulled on the handle, revealing the long blade inside. “And so are you.”

  “You know, I didn’t realize that it was a blade in there at first. I thought it was just an extendable handle.”

  “Too bad for you. Now you do know the truth.”

  “I didn’t realize it might be a blade in there until later.”

  “Then how did you figure it out?”

  “First of all, the electrical station you mentioned was near the scene of the crime. You could have easily gone out there on a routine inspection and then killed Rickerson.”

  “So?”

  “Well, a gambling buddy of the victim mentioned that he might have someone after him. Said he might owe a tidy sum of money that could cost him his life.”

  “Just like I said. The girlfriend is always a snoop.”

  “
But I didn’t really figure it out until I visited a shop in town. I just happened to see a cane sword in the store. When I saw it, I had the vaguest idea that your pole might be the same thing. I thought I would be really pushing my luck by jumping to that conclusion, so I thought I could do a little internet research and then contact the sheriff with it. At that point, if he thought it was a plausible idea, he could pursue it. If not, at least I shared the information.”

  “You’re smart, but not smart enough.”

  “So you really killed Cooper Rickerson?” she asked again, stalling for time.

  “Yes, I did. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

  “I just needed you to say it again.” She picked up the phone and showed it to Deena. “That way, the voicemail that’s still recording could pick it up and get sent right to the Sheriff’s phone.”

  “Darn you,” Deena spat, brandishing the sword and taking a step forward.

  Sonja instinctively moved away.

  “Too bad your boyfriend won’t be here in time to save you.”

  Raising the sword high above her head, Deena prepared to strike.

  Sonja shielded her face and waited for the pain to hit her.

  Instead, the loud clash of metal echoed on the air. Sonja looked up to see the barbarian spirit blocking the swing with her own sword.

  A swift kick of her foot sent Deena flying backward into the closet she had hidden in. The door slammed shut with a bang.

  Leaping to her feet, Sonja pressed the couch until it was up against the door, blocking the woman inside.

  Sonja glanced up at the spirit who was smiling. The specter gave a firm nod of approval, tossed the die in one hand up in the air and caught it again, and headed out the door.

  Somehow, Sonja knew that the die had been attached to the spirit the whole time. The barbarian truly was a ghost from ancient times.

  CHAPTER 15

  * * *

  “Honestly, Sonj’, I just don’t understand it. How could you go from being completely uninvolved in a murder investigation to being the killer’s next target?” Frank asked as he sat on one of the metal stools in the diner’s kitchen sipping his coffee.

  Sonja was at the counter, adding the finishing touches on the cake—a grand centerpiece for the party which was already in full swing in the dining room.

  The cake was a large square measuring about one foot on each side. The interior was made with layers of vanilla cake and Boston cream in between each section. The outside was frosted with a thick white frosting. White fondant dots were added to make it look like a giant six-sided die.

  “Like I said, I didn’t want to be involved. Unfortunately, this time, I sort of just fell into it. I saw something suspicious and decided to report it to you.”

  “It was smart of you to use the voicemail to record the conversation.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it. It was just serendipity. I had no intention of facing off against a professional killer by myself.”

  “Well, thank heaven for that.”

  Sonja licked a bit of Boston cream off her finger, savoring its sweet flavors.

  “I’m still a little confused, actually. How did you get her into the closet like that?”

  Sonja blushed slightly. “Remember how I told you about that ghost with the sword?”

  Frank cocked a suspicious eyebrow.

  “Just hear me out. She came into the room and shoved Deena inside. She saved me.”

  “Are you sure this ghost isn’t a real person?” he pressed.

  “Frank, I’m sure,” she said, turning her head to one side and giving him a stern look.

  “Okay, okay. You’re right. I should give you more credit in this area.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, if this ghost saved you, where is she now? Should I be worried about it?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know.” Sonja had to admit, the actions of the spirit the night before made her truly believe that it was a creation based on Cass’s character. She’d done a little more reading and firmly believed that the spirit once belonged to an ancient Roman, but when it was called back up with the die, it temporarily took the shape of the barbarian character.

  It seemed it had only attacked Sonja to get the die back, the one item that tied the ghost to the realm of the living.

  It was the best guess she could fathom based on the limited research materials she had access to. The occult section at the library, where she used to do her research with her friend Belinda, had burned down recently and destroyed all the books.

  Shaking her head, she tried to stop thinking of ghosts and murder and concentrate on the fun day ahead of them. However, her concern over Belinda being away in the woods for so long still bothered her, even if there was nothing she could do about it.

  Sonja added the final dot on the top of the cake and lifted the tray.

  “Ready to go out?” Frank asked, standing up and grabbing the second tray which was covered with a cloth.

  “Sure thing,” she smiled. She was happy that Frank was willing to help out with the party, especially since she had seen so little of him over the past week with the investigation going on. Usually, a homicide case brought the couple closer together.

  Pushing through into the dining room, Sonja held the cake up high. A small fanfare sound echoed on the air, one of the kids playing it from their phone to announce the entrance.

  Almost every table in the diner was filled. Kids and teens alike sat around playing a varied assortment of board games. Garland with cards and dice hung about the room, and each table had an assortment of candy, chips, and snacks. The kids all quieted down and looked up toward Sonja.

  “I wanted to welcome you all, officially, to the first annual End of Summer Game Day. This is very fun and exciting for me and I’m glad to be able to give back something to you guys who often spend Friday nights here at the diner playing games.”

  There was applause from around the room.

  “So, I present to you this Boston cream dice cake.”

  There was more applause, and even a few whoops.

  “Finally, in honor of you all, I’m excited to announce my newest specialty waffle. It will be only available on Fridays during game night, but all of you get the first chance to try it today.”

  The same kid who had played the fanfare on his phone played a drumroll.

  “I present to you, The Wizard Waffle.”

  Frank pulled the cloth off the tray to reveal the newest delicious dish. It was an extra sweet waffle with varied streams of pink, purple, and yellow food coloring swirled throughout the batter. It was then topped off with fresh whipped cream, multicolored star and moon sprinkles, and drizzled with a red raspberry sauce. Sonja brought out a long straight stick, pushed it into the middle of the waffle, and lit it with a match. Instantly, it began to sparkle.

  Everyone cheered and clapped.

  “Okay, who wants to try one?”

  * * *

  Sonja had large mixing bowls of the special Wizard Waffle batter chilling in the fridge, and she spent the bulk of the morning and into the afternoon whipping up dish after dish. With the kids, it was a huge hit. Sonja could only guess that many adults would show up on Friday nights just for the waffle as well.

  Finally, around one in the afternoon, she closed the kitchen and took her place at one of the tables. She had a large fold-out screen with a picture of two wizards fighting on it. This helped to shield all of her notes, maps, and statistics from the players. She also had her hardbound copy of Wizards and Warlocks at the ready.

  The group of players all sat down, ready to enjoy the game.

  “Sonja?” Cass asked, sliding into a nearby chair and setting her character sheet—the same one they had made the other night—in front of her.

  “Your die, right?” Sonja smiled.

  “Yeah, do you still have it?”

  “Actually, I lost it,” she admitted.

  Cass’s jaw dropped wide open.

&nb
sp; “But don’t worry,” Sonja told her, holding up one finger for her to be patient. Reaching down into her bag, Sonja pulled out a clear, square box. Inside of it were a set of pink and purple swirled dice, in all of the various shapes needed for the game.

  Cass gasped in excitement. “You bought me a dice set?”

  “Yep, and it has everything you need in it.” She handed it over to the teenage girl who looked like her eyes were misting up.

  “Thank you,” she sighed, looking at the beautiful set.

  “You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do,” Sonja admitted.

  Cass opened the container and began examining each die one by one.

  Sonja nodded happily, when something outside the window caught her eye. Glancing over, she noticed the large shape of an Amazonian woman, smiling as she disappeared into the trees.