Sonja nodded. “I know.”
“Sometimes we have to put our feelings aside for the sake of the business. That’s just how it goes.”
Sonja smiled faintly. She hated it when her friend was right.
Alison ran the diner for years, even before her father died, and quite a long time before Sonja came on the scene. Now they shared the business—but the young mother had decreed that, ultimately, Sonja was the owner and manager.
Alison had warned her friend that she might not be able to help too often, her first priority was her beautiful new baby, but she’d been at the diner every chance she could, to help out.
“Thanks for your advice.”
“No problem. What are friends for?” Ally grinned.
“And for all your help with the diner,” she added.
“I’m a creature of habit,” Alison declared proudly. “I ran this business—or watched daddy run the business—my entire life. This could be a good boost for us now that the diner has reopened under a new name.”
“And under new management,” Sonja chuckled. “Management who is having a tough time learning on the job.”
“Good thing you’re a fast learner,” her business partner commented, trying to lift the garbage bag out of the pail.
“Hey, I’ll get that. Go ahead and check on your tables.”
“Thanks,” Ally replied, heading out of the kitchen.
Sonja tied the trash bag and pulled it out of the pail, then stepped outside to place it in the dumpster.
“That woman was such a stick in the mud,” she overheard someone saying. “Can you believe how she treated us? What a hag.”
Were they talking about her?
Sonja peeked around the corner of the diner and could see the film crew standing near their van in the front parking lot, talking. The cameraman—Sonja thought she remembered his name being Benjamin—was working, loading things back into the van.
She noticed, in spite of herself, the cameraman’s bulging muscles as he lifted heavy equipment into the back of the vehicle. She hadn’t had the time, or space of mind, to see it before, but he was a tall and ruggedly handsome kind of guy. He was the complete opposite of the fat, balding, middle-aged stereotype often associated with cameramen.
“That woman totally ruined our shot,” Spook complained.
“Well, Spook. You did barge in on her unexpectedly during business hours,” Tech reminded. “And during their grand opening no less.” He pointed toward the fabric sign hanging out front.
“Shut up, Tech,” Spook snapped rudely.
“No,” Maddy chimed in. “Tech’s right. You were really nasty in there. You took it too far this time.”
“What do you know?” the perturbed televisions star turned away from his crew, arms crossed, jaws clamped shut.
“She had every right to kick us out,” she responded.
“I told you we needed a permit,” Tech added. “But you always want to skip that part. If we want this show to continue to keep its high ratings, we need to make sure we do things right.”
“Look, do you guys want to make a good show or not?” Spook demanded. “Because I’m pretty sure I could carry this show all on my own, without either of you.”
“Spook!” the girl exclaimed, her brow furrowing in an angry warning.
“Whatever,” Spook, exasperated, kicked at some loose gravel in the parking lot. “Maybe we’ll have better luck at the old haunted barn.”
“Maybe we should get a film permit first.”
“No, we’re going now,” the belligerent host decreed. “Get in the van.”
Sonja couldn’t believe her ears. Were they thinking about going out and bothering old Mr. Hinkley too? As an old friend of the family, she couldn’t stand the thought of it.
“Uh oh, guys,” Benjamin warned. A silver sports car pulled into the parking lot and stopped right next to the van.
“What now?” Spook complained, turning to face the silver car.
The car door opened and a tall man with salt and pepper colored hair erupted from it, looking furious. If he’d been a bull, Sonja could imagine steam erupting from his nostrils.
“Daniel,” Spook smirked. “How good to see you.”
“You stole my invention,” the man invaded the space bubble of the comparatively small TV host, towering over him.
Not only was he tall, but he looked thick as well. His arms seemed to strain the sleeves of his t-shirt.
Spook laughed and waved a hand at the older man. “Get out of my face, Daniel. You don’t scare me.”
Daniel turned so red that he was nearly purple and Sonja was afraid he might have a stroke right there in the parking lot. “You stole my invention, you little sideshow freak. You need to give it to me right now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spook blinked innocently, his mouth twisted into a mocking grin.
Like lighting, Daniel grabbed him by the front of his very expensive shirt, picked him up, and slammed him against the side of the van.
“Hey! Stop it,” Maddy shouted, grabbing the large man’s arm and pulling. He didn’t budge.
“Hey, man. Get off me,” Spook screamed between his teeth, more angry than scared.
Sonja watched, open-mouthed as Benjamin and Tech ganged up on the thickly-muscled man, dragging him away from the ‘prima donna’ host. Her heart thundered watching Benjamin leap into action. She felt thrilled and nauseated all at the same time. Immediately, she imagined her mother at home, in her armchair by the fireplace, reading one of those “bodice ripper” romance novels. The shirtless man on the front of her mother’s most recent novel The Cowboy’s Promise came to mind. She wondered what Benjamin might look like on the cover of a book…
Sonja shook her head, trying to clear the steamy daydream from her mind.
“Give me The Seer,” Daniel growled, struggling with the two men. “That was my invention.”
“I’m not giving you anything. You don’t have a monopoly on new ideas,” Spook coolly inspected his manicure, not looking at his outraged competitor.
“That was my project. My invention. And you stole it.”
“Look, if you’re so certain it belongs to you then go ahead. Sue me. Let’s settle it in court…unless you think that you don’t have a case.” Spook smiled mischievously.
Daniel’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and Sonja was glad that he was being restrained. She didn’t want to see what would happen to Spook if he got loose.
“What’s going on out here?” Sonja heard Sheriff Thompson’s voice.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she whispered. He must have seen the commotion from inside the diner.
Daniel looked at the Sheriff and glared back at Spook. “This isn’t over,” he growled, shrugging off the crew that had held him.
“Oh, I think it is,” Spook declared proudly.
The burly man got in his sports car, slammed the door, and drove off, cutting over a patch of dirt and leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
CHAPTER 3
Sonja stepped back into the diner wondering what exactly she had just witnessed. If anything, the exchange underscored the certainty she never wanted to work in “show biz.” As far as she could tell, those people were all completely nuts. Except for, maybe, Benjamin. The recently enamored diner owner sighed inwardly, her thoughts traveling back to those muscles...
“Where were you?” Alison asked, bringing in more dirty dishes from the dining area.
“Sorry, I got stuck outside.”
“Stuck outside? The back door shouldn’t be locked.”
“It’s not,” Sonja commented. “But I did just watch a strange fight out front.”
“A fight?” Ally raised her eyebrows. “Who was fighting?”
She recapped everything she saw, but chose not to mention how she had “noticed” Benjamin.
“Daniel? Maybe it was Daniel Marston,” Alison guessed.
“Who’s Daniel Marston?”
�
��He is the host of another reality show, Ghost Hunters Incorporated. It is basically a copycat of The Spook Show, and it certainly isn’t doing as well. It’s on one of those wanna-be channels.”
Sonja shook her head. “How do you know all this stuff?”
“Alex watches a lot of TV at night, so sometimes I sit and watch it with him.”
Sonja would never be caught dead watching reality TV, but she certainly didn’t judge Ally for it. If that was how she and Alex chose to relax at the end of the day, good for them. She just didn’t understand the attraction.
“Well, anyway,” Sonja said, “I think someone should run out to Hinkley’s farm and warn him that he’s about to be invaded.”
Alison looked shocked. “Oh my, yes. Hinkley hates visitors as it is. I mean ever since Mrs. Hinkley died, he just sort of keeps to himself.”
“I know. That’s why I’m worried,” Sonja sighed. “If we catch the Sheriff before he leaves, maybe he can get out there before Spook and his crew do, and keep them from bothering Mr. Hinkley.”
“Oh,” Ally frowned, seeming reluctant, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I just served Sheriff Thompson his food. If he leaves now, it’ll get cold, and he’s already had to deal with the Spook Crew once already.”
“Twice,” Sonja corrected. “He had to break up the fight outside.”
“All the more reason,” Ally replied. “Why don’t you go out there?”
“Me?” she asked. “But I have to stay here at the diner. It’s opening day.”
“Don’t worry. Vic and I will hold down the fort. Won’t we, Vic?”
Vic twirled his spatula and nodded without looking away from the eggs he was cooking.
“The Hinkleys have been friends with your mom for as long as I can remember, and he likes you,” she reminded Sonja.
“That’s true,” she admitted.
“So, I think you should go warn him.”
“I think you’re right,” Sonja agreed, finally, unable to argue with Alison’s logic.
“But you’d better hurry if you want to beat them to the farm,” she prodded.
“Alright,” she took off her apron and hung it by the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Good luck,” Ally encouraged with a wave.
* * *
The drive to Hinkley’s farm was beautiful no matter what the time of year, and today was certainly no different. Sonja crossed the small wooden bridge constructed over a canal, which channeled water runoff from the mountains to the farm and also down to the rest of the town. Once across the bridge, she turned down a narrow dirt road which cut through a grove of vibrant aspen trees. Flowers of all colors popped up all along the road, adding an almost mystical beauty to the grove.
She emerged from the grove into the vista of a wide open field of more reds, yellows, and greens nestled up against the mountain. The road curved around the perimeter of the field and came up past the barn, practically on the doorstep of Mr. Hinkley’s farmhouse. Bringing her mom’s aged sedan to a halt, she noticed with dismay that the Spook Crew van was already parked just outside the barn. She swung the car around and pulled up right behind them as they were unloading equipment. Benjamin turned from his work and looked at her. Despite herself, Sonja felt a shiver of excitement, and willed the feeling away.
She opened her door, but before she could say anything, Mr. Hinkley shouted from inside the farmhouse.
“What in tarnation are you hooligans doing out here?” he shouted from behind the screen door.
“Okay, let’s roll,” Spook directed his crew, not responding to the old man.
“What are you doing on my farm?” Mr. Hinkley pushed the screen door open. “You got no right to be on my land.”
Spook pushed Benjamin inside the barn.
“He’s right,” Sonja joined in, appalled. “You have no right to be here without a film permit. Do we really have to go through this again?” she challenged.
The insistent TV host stopped and looked back toward Sonja. “You following me?” he asked, winking at her.
The farm’s owner leaned on his cane for support and made his way down the steps. “Who are these people, Sonja?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Spook,” Sonja shouted.
Spook glanced back, surprised to hear her use his name.
“You and your team have no right to be here. This is private property, and you’re trespassing.”
The young star sighed and turned around to face her. “Look, we’re just going to film a few shots and we’ll be on our way. Let’s all just be chill about this.”
Sonja boldly approached him and folded her arms. “No, you’re not. It really doesn’t matter what you want, you haven’t done the proper paperwork to film here.”
Spook shook his head, mocking her. “Don’t you people understand who we are? We’ll be able to put your little hick town on the map,” he sneered.
“We don’t want you to,” Mr. Hinkley barked, caning his way over. “I don’t care who you are or what you’re here to do. I’ve lived in this town since it was a spit, and I’m getting real sick of people like you trying to come in a make a quick buck off us.”
“Look, man,” Spook said, rolling his eyes. “We’re from a television show.”
“I don’t care where you’re from, you scalawag. You aren’t going to just waltz in here and do as you please.”
The arrogant young man raised an eyebrow and looked at the farmer like he was from another planet.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath. “Look, if you just give us a few minutes to film…” he began.
“I’m calling in the law if you don’t move your buddies, your camera, and your van off my property right now, you young cur,” Mr. Hinkley waved his cane in Spook’s direction.
Spook snickered. “Whoa, slow down old-timer, you don’t need to blow a gasket.”
“I mean it,” Mr. Hinkley stepped forward, and the pompous young man twirled his finger by his ear, signaling the crew to pack it up.
The crew piled their things quickly into the van and zoomed off down the dirt road, leaving a veritable smoke-screen of dust behind them.
Sonja let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Hinkley.”
He looked up at her with a smile. “It’s good to see you, little lady. I’m glad you came out.”
“I overheard them talking about coming here, and I didn’t want them bothering you or disturbing the farm.”
“I appreciate it, dear,” the old man’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”
She laughed. “My help? It seemed like you took care of things pretty easily by yourself.”
“All the same. I appreciate it,” he turned to climb the steps. “Come in and have a cup of coffee with me?”
“I actually better get back to the diner,” Sonja replied ruefully.
“Oh, come on,” Mr. Hinkley motioned for her to follow him up the stairs. “I don’t often get visitors; let alone visitors that I actually like. Have a cup of coffee with me,” he insisted, making the laborious climb.
She didn’t have the heart to say no. “Alright, but just for a little while,” Sonja agreed following him up the stairs into the farmhouse.
Despite the effort that it was taking him to get up the stairs, the old man smiled and nodded his head. He’d get out the good coffee cups today.
CHAPTER 4
Sonja sat and sipped her second cup of coffee that day, relishing the feeling of the caffeine buzzing through her system. That, and the easy-going conversation with an old family friend were just what the doctor ordered.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she sighed in contentment.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, the coffee is sludge,” Mr. Hinkley insisted, clearly pleased.
She had to disagree. The coffee tasted pretty darn good in her estimation. “I like it,” she told him. “It’s raw,
simple, and exactly what I needed.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” with a shaky hand he poured another cup for himself.
“It has a slight nutmeg flavor.”
He snorted. “It’s probably just burnt.”
Sonja laughed and took another deep sip.
“So, why would a team of ghost hunters be interested in your barn anyway?” she asked, curious.
“Ghost hunters, huh?” he mumbled leaning on the table and sipping his coffee. “I suppose they think it's haunted.”
“Where did that rumor get started?”
“Oh, Marjorie started telling people about our ‘haunted barn’ while we were traveling the country a few years back.”
She remembered the year the Hinkley’s went off to roam the United States in an RV. She couldn’t have more than ten or eleven years old then.
“We were in Nevada or New Mexico. I can’t remember exactly which one. Both are big open deserts, both have casinos. We were sitting down to eat with some nice couple we had met at a blackjack table, and Marjorie went on this big, long tangent about how our barn was haunted. Claimed she’d seen a ghost once—hanging by its neck from the rafters.”
Sonja suppressed a chill, and unconsciously reached back to pat down the hairs on the back of her neck. Just imagining a hanging body out in the barn gave her shivers. “Why would she say something like that?”
“Who knows? Craziest thing I’d ever heard her say. Before we bought the farm, there was a family who lived here that had a son, probably in his late teens. Apparently the young rascal decided he was in love with one of the girls in town. I think he wasn’t quite “all there,” if you know what I mean.”
Sonja nodded.
“Well, anyway. From what we’ve heard, one night he tracked her down and tried to talk her into marrying him. When she told him ‘no’ he sort of lost it—grabbed her, tried to force her to say yes. Well, the fella didn’t realize his own strength and killed her.”
She shook her head, eyes wide. “That’s awful.”
“I personally think he meant to kill her, but Marjorie believed it was more sympathetic to the boy if she told the story that way,” Mr. Hinkley shrugged. “Either way, the kid couldn’t stand the guilt, and he knew the town would be after him, so he ran all the way here, back to the farm. He decided he didn’t want to live with his guilt, and that he didn’t want the townsfolk coming after him, so he strung himself up in the barn.”
Battered and Buttered Waffle: Book 2 in The Diner of the Dead Series Page 3