The Wicked Waffle: Book 1 in The Diner of the Dead Series

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The Wicked Waffle: Book 1 in The Diner of the Dead Series Page 9

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

“Everything would have been fine if you hadn’t come to town,” he muttered bitterly.

  “Not really. I think you would have been “haunted” by what you did, whether I came back home or not,” Sonja said.

  Sheriff Thompson handcuffed the defeated man and led him out the door.

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

  Chapter 16

  “Is everyone ready?” Alex called from the top of the ladder. He leaned up against the front of the diner, ready to reveal the new sign.

  “Ready!” Alison and Sonja called. They stood side by side in the parking lot, along with Sonja’s mother and father, Vic, and Sheriff Thompson.

  “Okay!” shouted Alex. “Three, Two, One!”

  He pulled the large cloth tarp down from the front of the diner, revealing the new sign made with neon lights. “Tada!”

  The sign said “The Waffle” and it lit up in brilliant, eye-catching reds and yellows. Everyone clapped.

  “It looks wonderful,” Sonja’s mother exclaimed, fighting back her tears.

  Sonja smiled. “You’re just happy I’m staying in town this time.”

  Her mother laughed and nodded. “I am.”

  “So am I,” Alison agreed.

  “You know what? So am I,” Sonja said, slinging her arms around the shoulders of her mom and her best friend. “Let’s go in and have some waffles!”

  She and Alison got to work in the kitchen while everyone else sat down in the dining area. The gals laughed and chatted a mile a minute as they cooked up a feast of eggs, bacon, sausage, and an assortment of specialty waffles. Vic helped carry out trays of food for everyone.

  “This one is special for you, dad,” Sonja said setting the waffle down in front of her recently freed parent. “Your favorite, just like mom used to make.”

  It smelled of cinnamon toast and had little pockets of warm, buttery cinnamon sugar all throughout the fluffy, crispy circle. A perfectly square pat of butter capped off the delicious creation.

  He smiled, “Thanks, Sonja, but, I’m afraid I don’t have time to stay and eat, sweetie.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I came in to say goodbye.”

  Sonja frowned. “You’re leaving again?”

  “I’m very proud of you, and proud of where this diner is going to go,” he patted her hand where it lay on the counter, and turned to head out the door.

  “Wait!” Sonja took off her apron and ran around the counter after him, catching up to him outside. “You can’t just leave,” she pleaded.

  “I have to, sweetie.”

  “So, is it going to be another four years or more this time?” she demanded, heartbroken yet again.

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” he turned again and unlocked his car, a rental.

  “You can’t leave,” she cried, the tears beginning to flow in earnest.

  “Sonja, I have a different life now, and I have to get back to that life.”

  “What about our life? What about my feelings?”

  “I’m sorry, honey,” his voice was hoarse with emotion.

  “Why did you even come back at all? Was Ronda blackmailing you too?”

  Her father went very still, pain in his eyes.

  “Yes, she was blackmailing me. It started four years ago.”

  “How long has that evil woman had her sights set on destroying this town?”

  “A while.”

  “How were you involved, Dad? Why was she blackmailing you?” Sonja asked quietly, almost not wanting to know.

  Samuel gazed at his brave little girl one last time.

  “I can’t tell you,” he opened the car door, got in, and drove away, and she watched him go, tears falling silently.

  * * *

  It was nearly dark when the folks who had come to celebrate the placement of the new sign started heading out.

  “Great food,” Sheriff Thompson said, grinning and patting his ample belly. “You just can’t beat breakfast for dinner.”

  “Thanks,” Sonja said.

  She was utterly exhausted, but had come to grips with what had been an emotional roller coaster of a week.

  “And,” the Sheriff sighed. “I hate to say this, but thanks for your help on the Ronda Smith case.”

  Sonja smiled, “You’re welcome.”

  “Just don’t ever do it again,” he scolded, cocking a finger at her.

  Sonja smiled and nodded, giving him a mock salute. “Aye aye, sir,” she teased.

  “That’s better,” he said. “Now, I’d better get back and make sure my deputies aren’t sleeping on the job.”

  Alison came in holding baby Cyndy. “Alex and I are leaving. Do you need any help cleaning up?”

  “No. I should be fine.”

  “Okay, see you later,” Ally gave her a warm hug, while Cyndy’s chubby fingers reached for her hair, then the two of them headed for Alex’s truck.

  “I’m heading out too,” Sonja’s mother said, gazing at her daughter with pride.

  “Okay, Mom, you go ahead and take the car. I’ll walk back.”

  “In the dark?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she laughed, reassuring her mother.

  Sonja was alone in the diner. The public grand opening was planned for the next morning and she still had a lot to do to prepare, so she went to work getting everything set up - napkin holders, condiment caddies, even the little jelly packets for toast and bagels. By the time everything was done it was nearly ten o’clock, and she yawned, feeling the exertion of the day. Making her last rounds, she checked to see that everything was in order, then locked up. A very weary, but mostly happy Sonja walked out into the parking lot, took a step back, and admired the diner, her diner, The Waffle, one more time.

  …and that’s when she noticed the face in the window, peering out at her—the glowing, blue, translucent face…

  Summer Prescott Books Publishing 2016

  All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 


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