CHAPTER 22
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The diner was packed with all sorts of patrons looking to celebrate the Irish holiday with one of Sonja’s famous waffles. Celtic music played over the speaker system, adding a little more ambiance.
At the largest circle booth in the front corner of the diner sat a group of teens all playing a fantasy board game. Cass was sitting with them and laughing. Catching Sonja looking over at her, she waved happily.
Sonja waved back, glad to see a little happiness in Cass’s life.
The diner owner was taking a quick break to catch up on the latest paranormal murder case with her dad. He had a plate with clover waffles sitting in front of him as well as a Pot O’ Gold waffle. Sonja had no idea how he could eat so much.
He also had a large mug of rich, dark coffee, an extra helping of Irish cream on the top.
“I think it was the hitman,” Sonja admitted in a hushed voice, not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation.
“The Little Terror?” he inquired, cutting into the waffle with the side of his fork and then stabbing the bite.
“Yeah. Why else would the statue have used the same ceremonial knife that killed Andy Wholesome?”
“Could just be coincidence,” he pointed out, chewing the food.
Sonja shook her head. “It isn’t. I swear.”
“It could have been Dobb,” he offered. “Maybe he was the one who killed The Little Terror, and maybe it was a blood sacrifice to ensure Dobb could come back himself if he happened to die. That would explain why the statue stole the money from Anna’s purse and brought it back to the exact spot he originally buried it, right?”
“I guess,” Sonja replied skeptically, “but it just makes more sense that it was The Little Terror, I think.”
“And what happened to the statue, then?”
“Pan smashed it with a hammer and threw it in the trash. She said the last thing she wanted in her shop was a vessel containing a murderous spirit.”
“Makes sense,” he said, “but you realize that just means the spirit is now wandering around Haunted Falls, correct?”
Sighing, Sonja shifted in her seat, moving to stand. “I already have enough on my plate without having to worry about that, too.”
“I’m serious,” he offered, grabbing her hand.
“So am I,” she replied. “If I spend my entire life worrying about every evil thing that might be waiting around the corner, I’ll never have time for the more important things.”
Her father raised one eyebrow. “Like that sheriff boyfriend of yours?”
“Exactly.”
“How’s he handling this latest murder? Aria’s?”
“Well, he can’t explain it away and he doesn’t have any leads. He’ll probably follow it for a while and then let it go.”
“Let’s hope so,” he suggested. “We don’t need anyone knowing about our powers.”
“I don’t think we need to worry.”
Taking a moment to look his daughter in the eye, he smiled and let go of her hand. “Good.” Digging into the waffle he took another bite. “By the way, when do I get to meet this man of yours?”
“You’ve already met him, Dad.”
“Yeah, when he was still basically a kid.”
“You met him at the Valentines dance last month. Remember?”
“Yes, yes,” he admitted, “but I haven’t formally met him, not as my little girl’s boyfriend.”
Sonja couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “What are you expecting, Dad? Do you want me to bring him home to dinner so you can interrogate him?”
“That’s exactly what I want,” he insisted.
“Fine.” She stood up. “I’ll ask him.”
“Good,” he beamed.
Walking away from the table, she headed toward the front door. She needed some fresh air.
As she stepped outside, a fresh and misty mountain breeze brushed her cheeks. She smiled and drew the air into her lungs. Spotting Frank’s police cruiser pulling into the parking lot, she waved and smiled.
She had promised him a free plate of the clover waffles today, partially as a way of saying sorry for almost getting him killed again.
As he got out, Frank smiled back. “Hi, Sonj’.”
She was about to say hi back when she noticed someone else getting out of the cruiser.
It was a short man in a green suit. He had a thick red beard.
“W-Who is that?” Sonja exclaimed.
“Sorry for not calling ahead,” Frank remarked, “but I invited someone else to eat brunch with us. This is Pat Black.”
The man stepped forward with a smile and held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Sonja. Frank was just telling me about you on the way over.”
Sonja graciously accepted his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you as well.”
“I’m sorry if I frightened you the other night,” he admitted. “The sheriff informs me that you accidently followed me into the woods.”
“I-I did,” she sputtered. “But I thought—” She stopped herself before she said anything stupid.
“Pat is a private investigator from Chicago,” Frank interjected. “He’s been working with the police over there to investigate the stolen money that Daniel and Aria Benson had hidden.”
“I had a good suspicion that Daniel had hidden the money somewhere nearby in the woods,” he informed her. “That’s why I was out that night.”
“Well, this is all very exciting,” Sonja beamed.
“I’m starved. Shall we?” Pat motioned to the diner.
“Go on ahead,” Frank nodded. “We’ll be right in.”
“I’ll grab a table,” Pat commented, heading for the diner. “I look forward to getting to know you better.”
After he had disappeared into the building, Sonja turned to Frank, “A private eye?”
“His credentials check out. He came forward this morning when he realized that you and I had found the money.”
“Wow,” she gasped.
“Shall we head inside?”
Sonja was about to say yes when she spotted someone standing in the woods beside the parking lot—a transparent and wispy ghost of a person. It was Daniel Benson.
“Are you okay?” Frank asked, putting his arm around her. “You look pale all of a sudden. Don’t tell me all that excitement last night has you too tired for dinner together.”
Sonja blinked and the ghost was gone. “I’m fine. I just thought I saw someone. That’s all.”
“Come on. Have a waffle with me and take your mind off murder for once.”
Smiling up at him, she placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. “I’d love that.”
Eerie Irish Waffle (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 10) Page 8