Wedding Waffle Murder

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “Scouts honor,” Ally said, saluting the bride before marching out.

  It was only a few moments later when Frank entered the women’s restroom behind Alison. “Sonja, is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Can you give us a minute alone?” she asked Ally.

  “Sure,” the maid of honor agreed, stepping back out.

  Once she was gone, Frank came and stood behind Sonja, looking at her in the mirror. He looked rugged yet handsome in his tuxedo. The shirt underneath matched the flower in Sonja’s hair. “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you worried about the wedding?” he asked.

  Turning in her seat, she faced him. “Hardly, but there is something else that might be more important.”

  “More important than our wedding?”

  Sonja bit her bottom lip before answering, “I tried to brush it off, but I can’t.”

  “What?”

  “Last night, I saw a ghost wandering in the woods.”

  Frank’s expression tensed, showing his distaste about having to hear about ghosts on his wedding day. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

  “Because it was Amanda Williams,” she said straight out.

  Frank paused, his cheeks going from rosy to pale. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious, Frank. It was her, as plain as day.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groaned. “Okay. Okay. Can’t we go one day without a ghost—especially our wedding day?” It wasn’t an insult targeted at Sonja but came off more as disappointment that life had intervened.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Tell you what. It’s ten forty-five. The ceremony is getting ready to start in fifteen minutes. Let’s not shake things up too much now. As soon as the ceremony is over, I’ll tell Danny to run out to the Manx’s hunting cabin to check on Chance and Amanda.”

  Danny was one of two deputies in town. Greg, the second deputy, was the best man and would be expected to stay behind and give a speech.

  Making a circle with her lips, she blew out a breath of air. “Okay. That works.”

  “There isn’t much else I can do anyway, not unless we find some solid evidence that something is wrong.”

  “I get it.” Putting on her best smile and trying to push her stress down, she stood up from the chair. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  * * *

  When the classic wedding march music started, Sonja could hardly believe her ears. Standing in the entryway of The Waffle Diner and Eatery, she glanced out at the display of loved ones, friends, and family all gathered to witness one of the town’s most anticipated unions.

  Folding chairs, decorated with streamers, were all lined up facing an elevated platform and altar straight across from the diner’s front doorway. A burnt orange linen path had been laid out.

  Taking in one last deep breath, Sonja opened the door and stepped outside.

  Her father, who stood under the diner’s awning, was beaming with pride as he took her arm in his. “Ready, kiddo?” he whispered with a wink.

  Already, Sonja was desperately trying to hold back the tears. Walking down the aisle with her father was a miracle. He’d disappeared a few years back without a word but had turned up to be a part of her life once again when she’d moved back to her hometown of Haunted Falls.

  She was grateful he could be there with her.

  In time to the music, she and her father walked down the aisle, all the faces smiling from the sidelines. Sonja spotted her mother in the front row, tears streaming down her cheeks already.

  Again, Sonja forced back an outbreak of the waterworks.

  The most stunning sight of all was Frank himself, standing at the altar with his back straight and smile beaming on his face.

  Reaching the end of the aisle, her father handed her over to Frank’s care. Taking her soon to be husband’s arm, the couple faced forward to look at the preacher. The music faded out and the preacher began the service.

  “Beloved brothers and sisters, thank you all for being here. We are gathered today to witness the ultimate union—the holiest of commitments—between Sheriff Frank Thompson and Sonja Reed.”

  Sonja could feel Frank cringe slightly at the fact that his title had been used during the ceremony, probably just a habit by the preacher, but it was no matter.

  Sonja herself had never been very big on ceremony, but her mother cared deeply, and so she agreed to have the preacher officiate. At this point, however, Sonja couldn’t be happier, no matter who was at the head of the altar.

  “Do we have the rings?” he asked, looking toward Greg, the best man.

  Nodding, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two simple gold bands, handing them to Frank. One matched Sonja’s engagement ring, and the other was a simple piece of jewelry that many servicemen and law enforcement officers wore.

  Frank handed his ring to Sonja and then took her left hand in his.

  “Do you, Frank Thompson, take this woman—”

  The preacher’s next words faded into oblivion as the roar of a car bolting into the parking lot and stopping partway on the sidewalk interrupted the ceremony.

  “What in the heck?” Frank shouted.

  Sonja instantly recognized the vehicle from the day before. The driver side door opened and Trina Williams, along with her husband in tow, came running out in tears. In her hand was an old glass soda bottle. “Sheriff. Sheriff, they’ve got her. They’ve got my daughter.”

  “Hold on a second. What is this? You can’t just interrupt a wedding,” Sonja’s father boomed angrily.

  “Dad, hold on,” Sonja urged him, grabbing his arm to stop him from charging the woman. After what she’d seen in the woods last night, she was dreading whatever news Amanda’s parents might have that was worth stopping a wedding.

  “Sheriff, those astronomy weirdos have our daughter and the Manx boy,” Rick Williams insisted, his face red with fury.

  Everyone was talking and shouting all at the same time, many wedding guests upset at this horrible intrusion.

  “Everyone quiet down please,” Frank shouted, putting up both hands for the crowd to stop talking. Thankfully, due to the sheriff’s power of presence, they all grew into a hush. “Now, Trina, Rick, this had better be dang good.”

  Rick took the bottle from his wife’s hands and shoved it into Frank’s. “Read it for yourself, Sheriff.”

  Sonja noticed the rolled-up piece of paper inside.

  Shaking the bottle, Frank retrieved the note and read it quietly to himself. Sonja pushed in to see what was written there.

  In blocked ink letters, the letter stated the following: Manx, we have your son and his little girlfriend. You’ve interfered with our plans one too many times, and this is the final straw. Stop now or you’ll never see either one of them again.

  Chapter 6

  * * *

  “Where did you find this?” Frank demanded to know.

  “Well, Trina and I went up to that hunting cabin that belongs to Pete this morning,” Rick started saying.

  “Oh, I know you said we should leave them be, but I just couldn’t let it stand,” Trina cut in, sobbing between words.

  Rick sneered. “The point is, Sheriff, we found this bottle tied with a string to the front door of the cabin. Amanda and Chance were nowhere to be found. There wasn’t a sign that they’d ever even been there.”

  Frank glanced over at Sonja with a knowing look, a look that chilled her.

  He was thinking the same thing. The two were already dead.

  Sonja gave her silent agreement to what Frank was asking.

  “Alright, everyone. I’m very sorry about all this, but please head home for today,” he called out.

  “Head out? Are you kidding?” Sonja’s mother exclaimed.

  “Look, we have a couple who are missing in the woods. Anyone who wants to help in the search can run home and change into more appropriate attire.”

  There were gasps o
f surprise, but after a little more coaxing, the crowd started to disperse. Many of the men agreed to come back and meet Frank and his deputies at the diner’s parking lot.

  “Okay, thank goodness someone is finally listening to my wife and me,” Rick said.

  “Where were you yesterday?” Sonja jumped in.

  “Driving around looking for my daughter,” he snapped back.

  “Rick, stop. You’re not helping the situation,” his wife begged.

  “Fine. That’s fine. Let’s go, Sheriff,” he insisted, waving for Frank to follow.

  “Hold on. We aren’t going anywhere just yet.”

  “How can you say that? Those people have our daughter hidden away somewhere and you want to stay and talk?” he spat.

  Sonja realized that he was worried about his adult daughter, but his behavior was irrational—not unlike his wife the day before. She simply didn’t understand the family dynamic where parents fussed over their children well into adulthood—but then again, she wasn’t surprised either.

  Frank glanced at the letter one more time. “Who do you think has Amanda? I don’t see any sort of signature on here. I only see a little moon symbol.” He pointed to a black moon drawn on the bottom of the page that Sonja hadn’t seen before.

  “Who else would it be? It’s that cult who is always out on Pete’s land.”

  Without even asking, Frank knew who he was talking about.

  “Rick, we have absolutely zero evidence to say that Randall Shiloh and his crew are behind this.”

  “We absolutely do. That moon proves it.”

  Frank looked at the symbol again. “I’ve never seen this symbol before, never on Randall, his house, his car, or any of his friends. Besides, they’re just doing studies here in Haunted Falls for a while.”

  “That’s because they’re an underground cult,” Rick said like it was obvious.

  Sonja knew a lot of people in town who believed in various conspiracies, an older gentleman who often visited the diner even wore tin foil in his ball cap, but they always just sounded a little silly to her. This was no different.

  By the sound of the letter, this was some sort of personal grudge or vendetta.

  “Randall and his housemates are some of the gentlest and kindest people we have in town. I wish more citizens were like them, honestly,” Frank commented.

  “That’s what they want us to think, don’t you see?”

  Sonja was beginning to wonder if Rick had had anything to drink that morning. While Trina did a pretty good job of keeping it under wraps, especially from church members, Sonja had overheard a bit of gossip that he was attending AA meetings at the community center.

  She didn’t judge him for it, but it had occurred to her that perhaps it contributed to his wild ideas he was known for sharing around town and in her very diner.

  “They’re always looking up at the moon and other weird stuff.”

  “Is it against the law to look at the moon?” Frank asked, trying to keep a certain amount of logic in the equation. Sonja could see he was trying to tactfully get to the pertinent information without dismissing the leaps of conclusion these parents were making. As an officer of the law, he knew he needed to be open minded to any and every possible option but wasn’t going to start his investigation with the group of scientists. If there was some serious danger, he’d need to inform Chance’s parents first and foremost, question them, and go from there.

  “Sheriff, you’re not listening to me,” Rick begged.

  “No, I am listening to you, but you’re not hearing me. Randall and his team are scientists. They are not a cult of any kind.”

  “What about them always trespassing on Pete’s land? He kicks them off.”

  “They’ve only done that twice, and they’ve gone willingly both times. Trust me, we will look down that avenue if and when it becomes pertinent to the case, but only after taking some preliminary measures first. I think it’s more important to get a search going.”

  “This is pointless,” Rick shouted, walking toward the car. “If you won’t do anything about those crazies, I’ll take care of it myself.”

  Frank bolted forward at top speed, grabbing a hold of Rick by the forearm.

  “What the heck are you doing?”

  “You just openly made a threat against Randall, and I can’t let you go knowing you might confront them without solid evidence,” he scolded the man.

  At this, Rick quieted down.

  “Now, as I said, if at any point I have a reason to question Randall or his housemates, I will. At the moment, however, I’m far more concerned with notifying Jay and Pete Manx about their son. This note is addressed to them, after all.”

  Hanging his head, Randall gave a quiet apology, agreeing to cooperate for now.

  Trina, in turn, clasped her hands and looked both Sonja and Frank in the eye, “I’m sorry. He is just concerned.”

  “I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t.”

  “Sheriff, do you think we will find them?”

  “I hope so, but let’s start with the basics. You can follow me to the farm,” Frank told them.

  “Yes, yes, you’re right, Sheriff,” she agreed mournfully, heading for the car.

  Once they were out of earshot, Frank turned to his fiancé. “Are you coming along?”

  “Y-You want me to come along?” she gasped, honestly surprised to hear him say that. Usually, he was telling her to stay as far away from police investigations as possible.

  “I want you to tell me, in detail, everything you saw last night related to . . . the ghost.” He refrained from saying Amanda’s Ghost, unwilling to buy that the poor young woman was dead.

  “Let me get changed,” she agreed, running for the diner.

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Sonja’s mother and father had tried to encourage her to head home and relax until this all blew over. Like any parent, they were worried about her emotions on such an important day—especially now that it had gone so wrong.

  However, Sonja had insisted that they should help in the search if at all possible, claiming that she would be just fine.

  She’d had to give the same speech to Alison as well before finally getting out the door and into Frank’s car. They drove over to the farmhouse at a speedy pace.

  Pete was standing on the porch, holding the door open and yelling into the house when they pulled up. “Jay, have you seen my shovel?”

  “Which one, dear?” Jay returned.

  “The one I was going to use to dig the foundation for the shed,” he insisted like she should know. “It has my initials on the handle?”

  Upon hearing the crunch of tires on dirt, he turned to see the police cruiser and the Williams’ car arriving. “What’s this now?” he wondered with concern.

  Frank and Sonja climbed out of the vehicle.

  “Sheriff? Is something wrong?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips.

  “Who is it, hon?” Jay called.

  “It’s the sheriff.”

  “I think you better have a look at this,” Frank noted, handing him the letter. “Trina and Rick found it at your hunting cabin.”

  “What were they doing up there?”

  “Just read it,” he instructed.

  Looking down at the paper, Pete’s eyes widened. “Oh, my word. This can’t be real.”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out. Perhaps we should all go inside and talk,” Frank suggested.

  * * *

  “You’ve interfered with our plans one too many times? Whose plans? I have no idea who these people are,” Pete muttered after reading the note for the fifth time.

  They sat in the farmhouse’s living room on the old couches and easy chairs.

  “What are we going to do, sheriff?” Jay asked, trying to hold back her own set of tears. Trina was doing enough crying for the both of them.

  “First things first. Pete, I need you to think very hard. Is there anyone you know who might have a grudge ag
ainst you?”

  Pete shrugged. “Honestly, Sheriff. I have no idea who these people are.”

  “There hasn’t been any sort of business deals that have gone sour, a building you built that a customer was dissatisfied with?”

  “Nothing comes to mind, at least nothing major. I swear I don’t have enemies.”

  “It’s those hippies, I’m telling you,” Rick chimed in.

  Frank narrowed his eyes at the man. “Rick, I want you to stop talking about Randall and his team now.”

  “But I know I’m right,” he insisted.

  “Rick, please. Just stop,” Trina insisted, her face growing even redder from embarrassment.

  “Rick, trust me. They’re scientists. Astronomers studying the effects of pollution on how we view the changing sky.”

  “What?” he asked, a look of confusion coming over his face.

  “I asked them myself after everyone in town wouldn’t stop gossiping about it,” Frank finally revealed. “Because our air up here is still relatively clean, there are getting readings here and comparing them to another more urban area.”

  Rick squinted skeptically. “They told you all this?”

  “That’s right. Now stop harping on it and let’s concentrate on ways to actually help Amanda and Chance.”

  “Why haven’t they told anyone else this?”

  “Did you ever ask them?” Frank asked, looking at both Pete and Rick.

  Pete paused, clasping his hands and looking down in shame as he realized what the sheriff said was true. “I guess I didn’t. The first time they came out on my land, they tried to explain.” He paused, hesitating as he remembered, “but I was too angry about them being on my land to listen.”

  “I agree. As professionals, they should have asked your permission as the land owner first. However, this miscommunication doesn’t make them kidnappers.”

  “That’s hogwash,” Pete shot out. “Don’t you see. They don’t want people asking questions because they’re covering up their real activities.”