Eerie Irish Waffle (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 10)

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “That seems like a slight exaggeration.”

  Sonja only raised a knowing eyebrow in response.

  “It looks like Dobbs Blake,” he commented, crouching down near the dead man.

  “You know him?” she asked.

  “Hardly. He only just moved here last week. I met him briefly when he had the milk truck parked illegally at the park after curfew.”

  “We have a curfew?”

  “No one is supposed to be in the park or on other city property after one in the morning.”

  “You learn something new every day.”

  “I let him off with a warning. Seems he had just sort of fallen asleep after finishing his route.”

  “Who just falls asleep like that?”

  “You’d be surprised,” he responded, standing back up and walking toward her.

  “Looks like he was shot,” she observed, pointing at the body from where she stood. “point blank in the front.”

  “Yeah,” he half smiled, tilting his head to look at her. “How about you head back to the diner for now—”

  “And you’ll call me to get my statement later?” she finished his sentence. She knew, as soon as she started adding her two cents worth to any investigation, that it was time for her to leave. “Way ahead of you.” She’d been through this countless times. She’d find a body, Frank would arrive, she would try to give her opinion or observations of the scene, and he would ask her to leave.

  She was used to it by now.

  According to her father, who had much more experience with paranormal encounters than she did, being a spiritually sensitive person also meant you had a habit of drawing unwanted forces toward you. Murderers were just one such force included in that.

  By this point, Sonja was used to being the number one person to find murder victims. It seemed Frank had just accepted this as fact, even without knowing about his girlfriend’s paranormal disposition.

  “I’ve already set up a road block on that end of the road,” he pointed back toward the downtown area where he’d come from. “I’ll set up the other side as soon as you’re through.”

  “What about the deputies? Do they know?”

  “They should be here soon, too.”

  “Right,” Sonja nodded, feeling silly for asking. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you later.”

  “I’ll call,” he nodded as she climbed into the van and started it up. “And remember—”

  “Don’t do any investigating or follow any leads without talking to you first.”

  “I was going to say just don’t do any investigating on your own at all. You’re always putting yourself in danger.”

  “And I’ve always managed to get myself out again.”

  He tilted his head again, giving her a scolding look.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll try to keep my nose out of it.”

  “Thanks.” He walked over and put his arms around her, bringing her close for a kiss. “I just don’t want anything happening to you. That’s all.”

  “I know,” she whispered back, inhaling his masculine musk.

  Unfortunately, keeping her nose out of police business, especially when she was the one always finding the bodies, wasn’t exactly easy. Half the time a ghost would come around and torment her until she finally gave in and solved the crime herself.

  Perhaps that wouldn’t happen this time, but she doubted it.

  Most of the time, when it came to Haunted Falls, dead people hardly stayed that way.

  CHAPTER 7

  * * *

  Arriving back at the diner, Sonja walked in through the front entrance instead of the back. She just had to satisfy her own curiosity and get another look at the leprechaun statue standing in the entryway. Sure enough, there he stood, in the same exact position he had been earlier that morning.

  However, something about his wide grin put her on edge. Was his smile bigger now?

  “Strange,” she whispered.

  Heading into the kitchen, she decided she would need to keep an eye on the statue for the rest of the day.

  * * *

  “So, he was brand new in town? No one really knew him at all?” Sonja asked, taking a sip from her green coffee mug embellished with a Celtic knot—another item she had picked up from The Lucky Leprechaun the week before. It had just seemed too perfect for the holiday not to get it.

  “Seems that way,” Frank nodded, setting his pad and paper down on the desk.

  The two were crowded into the diner’s tiny office space. Between the desk, the printer, and the filing cabinets, the room felt more like a closet than an office, and it felt even smaller with the two of them sitting in there with the door closed.

  Usually, Frank would have waited until later in the day to get Sonja’s official statement on the case, and they would have met at his office in the police station. However, wanting to get the ball rolling on this case—especially since no one in town seemed to know anything about Dobb Blake—Frank decided to take a proactive approach to the investigation and just meet with his girlfriend early.

  It also helped that he got a free Four Leaf Clover Waffle out of it.

  “Dobb only moved into town early last week, on Sunday.”

  “I never even met him,” Sonja admitted. “At least not before I found him sitting in his truck out in the woods.” She drummed her fingers along the side of her mug. “I wonder what he was doing out there.”

  “Taking a break from work?” He picked up his own mug of coffee from the desk, another bonus of meeting Sonja at the diner, and took a sip. The coffee his receptionist at the station brewed was more like drinking oil.

  “Perhaps.”

  “It’s a public road, after all.”

  “It just seems off for the milkman.”

  Frank raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

  “Well, at least when Clyde was running the route, it was a door to door affair—almost like being a mailman, really.” Sonja shrugged. “If the route covered multiple residences and businesses all right next to each other, all in town, it just doesn’t make sense to me that he would take a backroad.”

  Taking another sip of coffee, Frank shook his head. “Doesn’t seem all that strange to me. He could have just been taking a break and wanted some peace and quiet. Or, considering this was his first week of work, he may have just taken a wrong turn. Maybe he was lost.”

  “Maybe,” she whispered.

  Sonja’s intuition—be it natural or paranormal—seemed to tell her that the situation was more complicated than it seemed at a glance. She refrained from telling Frank that, since she didn’t have any solid theories or ideas yet.

  There was also a big difference between general speculation and hard evidence. Sonja had learned that quickly over the past year of investigating murders. Balancing actual clues with supernatural premonitions had become a sort of talent of hers.

  After all, ghosts and visions just weren’t something that held up in court.

  “It’s probably coincidence,” she admitted, “but it still feels a little off.”

  Frank nodded. “Believe me, I wish there was more to this case as well. At the moment, I’ve got a lot of nothing,” he admitted. “The only person in town that knows anything about Dobb, besides the fact that he was the new milkman, is his wife.”

  “Anna,” Sonja exclaimed, visibly perking up as she remembered Alison’s story about the Mrs. Blake from earlier.

  “Don’t even think about it, Sonj’,” Frank cut to the chase.

  “What?” She asked innocently.

  “Don’t even think of trying to track her down,” he instructed her. “That’s my job.”

  “So, you haven’t told her that her husband is dead?” Sonja asked, setting her mug down and folding her arms.

  Frank sighed, his lips turning into a thin line of frustration on his face. He knew he had given too much information away. While it wasn’t anything too crucial or sensitive to the homicide case, he knew that his girlfriend was the kind of amateur sleuth
that would take the littlest clue or bit of information and run with it.

  “You haven’t told her,” Sonja stated, reading her boyfriend’s face.

  “No, I haven’t been able to get a hold of her,” he admitted, knowing he was already in warm water from saying too much. “But, please, stay out of it this time. After all, it’s not like you even knew the victim.”

  While that was true, Sonja’s supernatural intuition usually forced her into investigating anyway. After all, if it really was her own spiritual abilities that drew in these murderers to Haunted Falls, she felt it was her responsibility to help catch them and bring them to justice.

  “Promise me, please,” he asked again, taking her hand. “I don’t know how dangerous this case might be. Tell me you won’t get involved.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she smiled, squeezing his hand.

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  “Another murder?” Alison exclaimed after Frank had left.

  “That’s right,” Sonja explained to her friend.

  “You’d think we lived in a big city or something with how many people keep dying.”

  Sonja thought about how all the murders happening in Haunted Falls might be because of her and her father’s paranormal abilities. She wondered if having her father in town again might increase the number of murderers—or other evil forces, as her father had put it—that might come through.

  Sonja shrugged. “Sometimes, these things just happen.”

  “Dobb Blake, huh?” she asked. “And he seemed so nice.”

  “Maybe he was,” she retorted, getting out the waffle batter she had set in the fridge to chill earlier that morning. “We don’t really know, do we?”

  “I suppose,” Ally skeptically commented, chopping up some fresh greens for salads. “Maybe the rumors were true.”

  Sonja pulled the plastic wrap off the top of the mixing bowl and threw it in the trash. Turning to her friend, she put her hand on her hip. “Rumors? You didn’t mention any rumors this morning when Dobb came up.”

  Alison scraped a pile of chopped greens into a metal container to stay cold. “I don’t like to be a gossip. You know that.”

  Sonja rolled her eyes, knowing full well that her friend loved hearing the latest “news” from around the community. It was small town politics in a nutshell. Whenever someone new came to town, especially an outsider with no familial connections, there was bound to be an array of rumors floating about.

  Sonja generally ignored these stories, figuring that ninety percent of what was said was untrue. In this case, however, she was making an exception. After all, Dobb was dead.

  You never knew what tidbits of truth you might get from the local gossip.

  “Spill,” Sonja ordered.

  Alison got out another large head of greens and began to chop. “Well, I heard he was only moving here to escape the law.”

  Sonja sighed. Already this was sounding like complete fabrications created by the wild minds of the women of Haunted Falls.

  “Supposedly, Dobb Blake isn’t even his real name. He changed his name and identity and moved here so that the cops wouldn’t find him.”

  “What about his wife?” Sonja pointed out, giving the waffle batter a stir. She pulled the container of clover closer to her, preparing to add it to the mixture.

  “Maybe she was just along for the ride? Or maybe she has no idea her husband was mixed up with the mob.”

  “You really think she wouldn’t know?” she inquired. “Do couples really hide that much from each other?” She could hardly imagine keeping a secret that big from Frank, but then she remembered she had the power to see and talk to ghosts. She hadn’t told him that and hardly planned on it.

  Measuring out just the right amount of clover, Sonja sprinkled the dry green leaves into the batter. While she usually added vanilla to her waffles, this time she didn’t. The clover leaves—picked at just the right time and dried in just the right way—gave off a subtle but delicious vanilla-esque flavor.

  “He probably stole a bunch of money, maybe robbed a bank,” Ally pointed with the knife. “That’s why he is hiding from the law, don’t you see?”

  “Doubtful,” she admitted, adding a few drops of green food coloring to the batter. She stirred it until it took on the beautiful light green shimmer she wanted.

  “Another version of the story I heard was that he was on the run from the mob or some sort of crime syndicate.”

  “Now this is just getting wild,” Sonja admitted, opening the electric waffle iron she had heated and poured a helping of the batter in.

  “I’m not joking,” Ally retorted. “Someone said that he stole money from some big shot crime boss.” Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as if she’d just realized some major clue. “That’s probably why he was murdered,” she exclaimed, setting down her knife. “They probably sent a hitman to hunt him down!”

  Sonja could only nod, working hard to stifle the laugh growing in her belly. This all just seemed too absurd.

  “That’s why he was shot,” Ally continued, acting the scene out as she spoke. “The hitman found out where he was hiding, took him out into the woods, and BLAM!” she clapped her hands loudly. “Dead.” Her eyes darted back and forth as she began figuring out all the situations and clues for this wild rumor she had been spouting. “But they probably haven’t found the money yet. He probably hid it somewhere. Maybe in the woods.” She picked her knife back up. “Which means the hitman might still be in Haunted Falls.”

  Sonja couldn’t hold it in any longer and let out a loud, long laugh.

  “It is pretty ridiculous, I guess,” Alison admitted, smiling and shrugging.

  “I’m sorry, it just seems too outlandish is all. This isn’t a cop show we’re living in.”

  Admittedly, Alison was a TV addict, and she loved crime investigation type shows. Similarly, she loved any gossip involving the mob or crime bosses, even if they weren’t true.

  The waffle iron had stopped steaming, indicating that the waffle was done, and Sonja pulled it out and set it on a plate. Adding a dab of whipped Irish cream, and garnishing it with another dried clover, she topped it off with a light sprinkle of green colored sugar.

  “I’m just telling you what I heard,” Ally said with a knowing smile.

  “From who?” Sonja asked, putting the dish in the service window and ringing the bell.

  Alison turned back toward her work, chopping away. “As a matter of fact,” she answered, “I heard it from Panelope Morris.”

  “Panelope?” Sonja gasped. Now that seemed unlikely. Pan was the kind of woman who stuck to herself, didn’t really socialize with a lot of people.

  In fact, she seemed like the least gossipy woman in town.

  Now things were getting interesting. What had originally just been a rumor was slowly gaining more traction in Sonja’s mind. “Why would Pan say something like that?” she asked.

  “I was in The Lucky Leprechaun the other day looking for a cute Saint Paddy’s day hat for Cynthia to wear on Friday. I don’t want my baby girl getting pinched, you know.”

  “What about Panelope?” Sonja pressed.

  “While I’m checking out, Panelope gets all ominous and warns me to be careful because she thinks there may be a killer running around Haunted Falls.”

  Pausing, Sonja tried to take this new information in. “This just doesn’t sound like Pan at all,” Sonja admitted. While she and her mother had not interacted with the shop owner a whole lot over the past year (thanks to all the crazy things going on around town) it still just didn’t fit with the old friend of the family Sonja knew.

  “Well, did you know that Dobb was renting the upstairs apartment next to hers? It’s the one over the empty store that used to be a bath bomb and soap shop.”

  “I did know that.”

  “It turns out some guy came into the shop the other day and was asking all sorts of questions about Dobb and his wife.”

  Sonja’
s jaw dropped. “Now that seems odd,” she agreed. While she didn’t necessarily believe this was a hitman, it could easily be a debt collector or another similar person trying to track down Dobb.

  “I haven’t told you the oddest part yet,” Alison squeaked excitedly, leaning in.

  “What is it?”

  “The man who came in was a little person, and he was wearing a green suit.”

  “A little man in a green suit?” Sonja exclaimed.

  “Yep,” Ally announced, sticking her nose in the air jokingly. “How is that for evidence?”

  CHAPTER 9

  * * *

  For the rest of the day and into the evening, Sonja’s mind was spinning. She knew she would need to talk to Panelope in person about the strange man in the green suit, and about the potential paranormal nature of the statue sitting next to the front door of the diner. Deciding that she would pay Pan a visit first thing the next morning, Sonja tried to calm her nerves, clear her mind, and finish her closing duties for the evening.

  Unfortunately, she had little success in this endeavor.

  The memory of the small man—or supernatural creature—she had almost hit with the van played over and over in her mind. Had it been the same person going around asking questions about Dobb Blake, or had it been the enchanted statue come to life?

  If anyone knew anything about the potential existence of supernatural creatures or cursed statues, it would be her father. Sonja made a mental effort to finish up her work as quickly as possible so she could head home to talk to him about it. If he didn’t know, her next step would be to talk to Belinda Smith. A close friend, Belinda was the local volunteer librarian who supervised the section on occult studies at the public library.

  Belinda and Sonja’s father were the only other people in Haunted Falls who had any insight about the powers of supernatural darkness constantly swirling around and encompassing the small mountain town.