The Wayward Waffle: Book 4 in The Diner of the Dead Series

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  Taking a bite of waffle, he shook his head. “No, I’m still working with Mr. Hinkley. In fact, I’m going to be helping him on and off with the booth. We’ve got lots of fresh veggies to sell.”

  “Oh?” she inquired. “So you’re doing both?”

  “Right,” he replied. “I figured it’s good to keep up on my camera skills as well, and having a little extra money helps. Mr. Hinkley can’t pay me a lot as a farm hand—except in room and board, so I don’t mind doing some extra photography work on the side.”

  “And when Corrie found out she had a professional cameraman living right here in Haunted Falls, she couldn’t pass up the chance?” Alison asked, inserting herself into the conversation.

  “That’s about the long and short of it,” Benjamin replied, biting into another tasty helping of syrup filled waffle. “She also muttered about not liking how the photographer she got from out of town looked. Said he was unprofessional.”

  Sonja stirred the eggs mindlessly in the tray again. “Because of the beard and hair?”

  “That sounds likely,” Ally added.

  He nodded. “I don’t know Corrie very well, but based on my little interaction with her that seems about right.” He shrugged. “It’s okay. She’s old fashioned. Professionals should be clean cut and well groomed. I get it.”

  “So she decided she liked the look of you better,” Sonja confirmed, looking over the clean cut hair and close shave.

  “I suppose so.”

  “She has always been picky,” Alison commented.

  Benjamin lifted the camera with one hand. “I wonder if I can get decent pictures one-handed,” he laughed.

  “Here,” Sonja offered, pulling out and folding chair and setting it to the side of the booth. “Take a seat while you eat for a minute. You can go back to taking pictures after that.”

  “Thanks, but I really should get as many pictures in before the ceremony as possible. I’ll just make it work.” He lifted his camera and snapped a picture of Sonja. “See? Nothing to it.”

  “Looks like you’ve got it.”

  “I did want to ask you something, though,” Benjamin admitted.

  Instantly, Sonja felt all her systems go into emergency mode. Her heart pounded, her breathing increased, and the pink tone in her cheeks darkened.

  Glancing over at her friend, Sonja gave a little nod—a knowing signal between best friends.

  “Well, I better use the bathroom before we get too crowded with customers,” Ally noted. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Okay, I’ll man the booth until you get back,” Sonja called after her.

  Alison walked off, secretly winking at her friend as she left. Sonja suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

  Turning back to face Benjamin, Sonja noticed a hint of embarrassment in his cheeks and a stress in his eyes—a look which only made him more endearing in some way.

  “Well, looks like your friend took off,” he commented.

  “She did. She has a strong investment in my . . . personal life,” Sonja admitted, hoping that she hadn’t said too much. For all she knew he had no intention of asking her out on a date. He could easily be seeking cooking advice, looking for catering, wondering about an aspect of the murder case they had worked together to crack or any other number of things.

  “Look,” he said directly, “I wanted to say thank you.”

  Sonja leaned in. “Thank you?”

  “For how you handled things back when Spook was murdered, how you helped out Maddy specifically. I don’t think I would be here in this town, or working for Mr. Hinkley, without you. You made a big difference in everything surrounding the murder.”

  “Oh,” Sonja replied. She understood now. He didn’t want to ask her out, he just wanted to ensure there was closure when it came to the whole murder and arrest that had happened. After all, the television crew—despite how frustrating they all were—had been his life and work for a number of years.

  Sonja shook her head, inwardly embarrassed and feeling her cheeks grow warm. How could she have been so ignorant and naïve? She felt even lower when she thought of how she had acted, like a damsel from a romance novel, swooning and gushing over a man.

  This was by no means a romance novel and the Sonja cursed inwardly for even thinking it. Briefly, the instinct to run home and burn every romance novel her mother owned washed over her, but she shook off the notion as quickly as it had come.

  Letting herself settle back into the moment, she stopped leaning on the table, stopped leaning in toward Benjamin. “I see,” she said, clearing her throat. “Well, I was simply doing what any other decent person would do. I was a witness to the murder and wanted to help catch the person responsible.”

  Benjamin shook his head. “No, I think most people would have done the bare minimum in delivering their statement to the police and then gotten out of there. You took initiative, and that takes real guts.”

  Sonja laughed quietly. “I’m sure Sheriff Thompson would rather I didn’t take the initiative.”

  Sheriff Thompson was a good friend of Sonja’s, mostly due to the fact that she had unwittingly been a main witness in three different murder cases in Haunted Falls. This meant she ended up spending a lot of time around Sheriff Thompson. He had even saved her life at one point.

  For a while, Alison had insisted that something romantic was going on between the officer and her —but Sonja had quickly put that gossip to rest. Sheriff Thompson was almost seven years her elder and likely saw her as more of a nuisance rather than girlfriend material. Not that he wasn’t handsome, he was; and not like Sonja herself wasn’t a beauty with her red hair and perfectly smooth skin. The simple fact was that a relationship with the Sheriff seemed unlikely and complicated.

  “Sheriff Thompson thinks I’m a nosy nuisance,” she admitted.

  “Well, I’m sure he appreciated the fact that he was able to apprehend the killer because of your help.”

  “And yours,” Sonja added.

  Benjamin nodded. “Only because you asked for my help.”

  “Right,” she admitted in a hushed tone.

  There was a brief moment of silence as the two stood there at the booth together. To Sonja, it felt as if not another single person was in the park with them. It was just her, Benjamin, and the awkward silence between them.

  “I was wondering . . .” he began. “I was wondering what your plans were after the ceremony ends.”

  Instantly, Sonja perked back up—the pink came to her cheeks and her heart began to flutter in her chest. She opened her mouth to answer when another male voice interrupted.

  “Sonja,” Sheriff Thompson called, waving as he approached the booth.

  A flush of frustration came to her cheeks as she turned and looked at the sheriff striding across the grass toward the booth. He was decked out in full uniform, his perfect blonde hair combed to one side, a smile on his face from ear-to-ear.

  Sonja instantly tried to shake away her anger, despite her extreme disappointment at the sheriff’s poor timing.

  “Sonja,” he said her name again as he stepped up close to the booth.

  “Hi, Sheriff,” Benjamin greeted, holding out a hand.

  “Benjamin,” the sheriff beamed, shaking hands. “I didn’t know you were back in town yet. How are things going over at Hinkley’s?”

  “Just great,” he nodded. “Really great.”

  He was clearly stalling, and Sonja could see a hint of irritation in his face as he flared his nostrils.

  “That’s good,” the uniformed officer commented, completely oblivious to his interruption. “Well, it’s good to see you again.”

  “Nice to see you again,” Benjamin replied.

  “So,” the sheriff remarked, leaning in toward Sonja. “Have you heard?”

  “Heard what?” Sonja asked.

  “I’ve been nominated for Town Father, thanks to solving those recent murder cases.”

  Sonja chose to ignore the fact that she was, in fact, the one
who had solved the cases. Of course, her involvement was never listed in the papers.

  “Really?” she exclaimed half-heartedly. “That’s good news.”

  “I don’t think I’ll win, but it’s a great honor to be nominated either way.”

  “Congratulations,” Benjamin added.

  Sonja thought it was odd that Sheriff Thompson was nominated for Town Father, especially since he just didn’t seem old enough to even be considered for such an award.

  “Well, I suppose I should have something to eat before the ceremony. What do you have here?”

  “Picnic Waffles,” Sonja replied with a slight snap in her tone, wishing the sheriff would grab some food and go so she could continue the conversation with Benjamin.

  Reaching into his pocket, Sheriff Thompson pulled out a dollar. “Here you go, I’ll take two.”

  Benjamin snapped a picture of the two together. Sheriff Thompson barely noticed.

  Face furrowing the longer the sheriff hung around, Sonja quickly grabbed two waffles out and placed them in deli paper and handed them to the Sheriff. “There you go. I look forward to seeing you at the ceremony,” she commented, hoping it would tip him off to saying goodbye.

  Instead, standing there next to the booth, he took a bite of the waffle. “Delicious, as usual, Sonja.”

  Sheriff Thompson was sure acting weirder than usual. Even during normal conversation, he usually gave off an air of authority and confidence. Now, for the first time ever, he seemed goofy—as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  Sonja simply figured he was all wound up about being nominated. That had to be it.

  “Well,” he muttered through another bite. He quickly swallowed the food. “I was actually wondering, Sonja, if you had plans after the picnic today.”

  Instantly, she felt her face go pale and her jaw drop.

  “I better get going,” Benjamin commented. “I’ve got a lot of pictures to take before the ceremony begins.”

  “Benjamin,” Sonja called.

  “Maybe I’ll see you later,” he replied, turning away and walking off to find other nominees to photograph.

  Standing up straight, obviously trying to reclaim his usual confidence, Sheriff Thompson laughed a little. “Nice guy,” he noted.

  “He is,” Sonja replied sharply.

  “So, Sonja,” the uniformed officer replied, his normal professional confidence returning—as if Benjamin leaving had given him all his normality back. “In all seriousness, I was hoping you might want to grab a cup of coffee after the ceremony today.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure, Sheriff.”

  “Call me Frank,” he reminded her. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on just feeding you coffee from the station this time,” he smiled. “I know Marie’s coffee can taste like dirt. No more sludge like we usually drink together. Let’s go to an actual coffee shop.”

  “Sheriff, look,” Sonja pleaded. She simply couldn’t believe this was happening. This whole time Alison had been right about Sheriff Thompson being interested in her. The flustered woman felt so stupid for not seeing it when her best friend did.

  “I know we’ve had coffee a bunch of times at the station, but that was always when some sort of crazy murder case was going on. I think we deserve a chance to sit down and just have a normal coffee together when we don’t have death threats or dead bodies on our hands.”

  Spotting Alison heading back to the booth from the bathrooms, Sonja took a chance and removed her apron. “I’ve got to go,” she lied. “I need some fresh air.” She realized how stupid that must sound, considering she was already outside.

  “But, Sonja,” the sheriff insisted, a sudden twisted expression of confusion on his face.

  “Sorry, Sheriff.” Tossing her apron on the table she marched off into the woods, breathing deeply, desperately holding back tears. A low rumble of thunder echoed across the valley and a drop of rain touched Sonja’s cheek, running down and dripping off her chin.

  CHAPTER 6

  Once Sonja was deep enough into the woods where she could no longer see the park, she stopped to breathe. The thunderous clouds boomed again, foretelling of rain. She knew she needed to get back to the booth quickly to help get everything covered up or put away before it really started to pour, but for the moment she simply let herself stand among the trees and breathe deeply.

  How could Sheriff Thompson . . . Frank . . . do this to her? She had been so blind not to realize his interest in her.

  Did he honestly have a romantic interest, or did he just want to spend time together as friends—to celebrate his nomination and potential win of the Town Father award?

  She realized that, deep down, she did have some feelings for him—which explained her constant aversion to Alison’s inquisitions about their relationship. If he had only asked her for coffee a few weeks earlier, even a few days earlier, she might have accepted, but now that Benjamin was back in town—and potentially interested in a date—she just wasn’t sure she could accept the sheriff’s invitation.

  Realizing he had probably waited for the right moment, the moment when he was nominated for a big award, when he looked his best both physically and emotionally, to finally ask her out. That moment had just unluckily happened to coincide with Benjamin’s invitation as well.

  Growling upward toward the sky, frustrated by her romantic mishap, red-faced and embarrassed, she felt a heavy drop of rain splash onto her cheek.

  There was a distinct cooling sensation which washed over her as she stood there. As her frustration began to melt away with the rainfall, she began to feel foolish—ashamed of her current behavior.

  Shaking her head, she decided she needed to face up to reality. Two men were potentially interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with her—a reality that Sonja assumed would never see the light of day. For a while, she had believed she would grow old alone, with only her writing as company, but now she was faced with a difficult decision she had never planned on facing.

  The rugged cameraman turned farm hand had already made the first move, so Sonja decided that she would try things out with him first.

  Inwardly forgiving Sheriff Thompson for his poor timing, Sonja smiled and walked back toward the park just as another rolling boom of thunder echoed across the mountainside. The rain came down.

  * * *

  Reaching the booth just as the downpour hit the park, Sonja worked in a frenzy to get all the food and equipment either loaded back into the van or covered with a tarp—a precaution she was glad she had brought along.

  It was clear that Alison was eager to hear about what had happened between Sonja and Benjamin while she had been in the bathroom, but in the rain-soaked frenzy, there was no time. Sonja was glad for it, since she had no desire to discuss the incident until she had something more concrete to share with her friend.

  The two woman were almost halfway done with the scurried cleanup when Corrie, walking swiftly with a sunflower patterned umbrella in one hand and a clipboard in the other, marched up to the table.

  “Move it into the community center, ladies,” she shouted over the gale.

  “What?” Sonja insisted.

  “I said, move it into the community center. We’re going to finish out this picnic in there.”

  The incredulous event coordinator turned on her heel and marched to the next booth to report the same information.

  “Is she kidding?” Alison complained.

  “Come on,” Sonja urged. “Let’s get the equipment inside.”

  “But we just finished loading most of it into the van.”

  “We don’t want the food to go to waste, do we?” Sonja asked.

  Slumping her shoulder, Ally sighed. “Alright. Come on,” she agreed half-heartedly, grabbing a heat lamp out of the van and walking toward the community center next door.

  Following closely behind, Sonja hefted two trays of food and walked toward the building which stood next door to the park. It was a fairly long walk across th
e grass—something she had hoped to avoid by pulling up the van in back—but they tried to make quick work of it.

  “Sonja,” a familiar voice shouted. Looking up, she noticed Benjamin running toward her. Instantly, her heart began to thunder in her chest to match the sky’s gale.

  “Let me help,” he offered, taking one of the trays from her before she could respond.

  “Thanks,” she replied.

  “Come on, let’s get all this inside before it gets ruined.” He rushed for the door, leading the way into the building with Sonja following closely behind.

  Setting the tray on the table she wiped wet hair from her face. “Thanks.”

  “There’s still a lot more to bring in,” Alison noted. “We’re not done yet.”

  Soon, despite being soaked through to the skin, the two woman and their rugged helper had everything moved inside and set on a fold out table in the community center’s main event room.

  “Looks like we were able to save most of it,” Alison nodded, checking the damage to the food.

  “Thank heavens,” Sonja replied, looking over all the delicious breakfast items they had worked so hard to make that morning. “Well, looks like today won’t be a total loss after all.”

  “We were just lucky you brought that tarp along,” Ally nodded at the large blue heavy duty tarp that was crumpled in a nearby corner.

  “Be prepared,” Sonja said, making a Boy Scout salute.

  “Eh, I hated Boy Scouts when I was young,” Benjamin admitted.

  “You were in Boy Scouts?” Alison asked.

  The cameraman took a seat near the table, finally setting his camera bag down and unzipping it. “Yeah, my dad really wanted me to be in the military, just like him. He thought enrolling me in Scouts would get me on the path toward military service.” He pulled out the camera and examined it. “Unfortunately, it just pushed me as far away from the military as possible.” He removed the lens. “He was sorely disappointed.”

  “Well, sometimes we can’t always be what our parents hope,” Sonja admitted, taking a seat next to Benjamin, thinking of her own mother. When Sonja had announced she was going to pursue a career as a writer, her mother had been less than thrilled. Sonja had even moved out to New York to work for a big name publisher just to get a foot in the door of the publishing world.