Screaming, the bearded man toppled over.
Benjamin pounced, pulling the guys arm behind him and pinning him to the ground.
The sound of feet running echoed through the hall as Frank and the two deputies emerged from around the corner.
“Where the heck were you guys?” Sonja exclaimed.
The deputies moved in on top of Daniel, handcuffing him.
“Sorry,” Sheriff Thompson replied. “We couldn’t find you after you two ran from the auditorium.” He paused, nodding at Benjamin. “Good work.”
CHAPTER 19
Walking out of the building, the deputies pushed him into the back of one of the unmarked cars and then both got it in.
“Well, it looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me this afternoon,” Frank said as he watched them drive off toward the station.
Sonja sighed. “Seems like you’ve been pretty busy lately,” she admitted.
Frank glanced down at the her. “It has been strange, that’s for sure. If I was just a little more senile I might just claim there was some sort of conspiracy or cult going on in our little down.”
Sonja put on a sideways smile, “I sure hope not, but I guess a guy can dream.”
“I’m dreaming that isn’t the case.”
“It’s not,” Sonja affirmed—seeing no logical connection between the murders to create a conspiracy.
Frank turned toward the young redhead, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Sonja nodded. “Fine.”
“It was another pretty close call for you in there.”
“Nah,” she said, waving a hand. “I got him good, and Benjamin was with me.”
“I guess I should thank him,” the sheriff added.
“I’m sure that isn’t necessary,” she commented.
“Speaking of Benjamin.” Frank nodded toward the chiseled young man waiting on the other side of the parking lot.
“I better go talk to him,” she responded.
“I’ll see you tonight?” He asked Sonja.
She nodded, smiling. “See you at six. Be on time this time,” she teased.
“I really am sorry, Sonja. I’ll definitely make it up to you.”
She smiled at him and nodded as he got into the other unmarked vehicle and drove off.
“Tonight?” The sudden masculine voice made her jump. Benjamin had appeared behind Sonja, having walked up to her as she watched Frank drive off.
“Oh, Benjamin.”
“Is he going to want our statements tonight?” Benjamin asked, obviously misunderstanding the snippet of conversation he had overheard.
“Oh? Uh, no,” she stumbled over her words—now confronted by the man she had been pining unrealistically for over the past weeks.
“Oh, okay. Then what was he saying about tonight?” Benjamin pressed.
“Oh, nothing,” Sonja lied, trying to divert an embarrassing conversation.
“Well, in that case, would you like to grab dinner tonight?”
Sonja felt her heart sink. “Tonight?”
“Well, after everything that happened yesterday and today, I just feel like I owe it to you.” He slapped on his most dashing smile, obviously attempting to sway her answer to the positive.
“Well, I can’t tonight,” she admitted truthfully. “I’m busy.”
“I see,” he responded, hope still in his voice. “Saturday, maybe?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Oh,” he paused. “Then you name a time and I’ll make it work.”
“Benjamin,” she let his name out in a whoosh. “I have to admit something.”
The handsome farm hand looked down at his feet and then back in the diner’s eyes again. “It’s Sheriff Thompson, isn’t it?”
Sonja felt a little ashamed. After all, she had told Benjamin that nothing was happening between her and Frank—and at the time nothing had been.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m having dinner with Sheriff Thompson tonight.”
“Oh, I see,” he replied. “Looks like I missed my chance.”
Her brow furrowing inquisitively, she looked him in the eye. “Your letter said you weren’t interested, that you couldn’t get over your last love.”
“What?” He remarked. “I never wrote you a letter. That’s one of the things I was trying to tell you in there.”
Sonja’s jaw dropped. “Then where did the letter come from?”
Almost as if on cue, a car drove into the parking lot. Corrie Bennett stepped out and looked at the two standing together. “Benjamin,” she called. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.”
“Get a hold of me?”
“Yes.” Walking across the parking lot she looked at Sonja and smiled nervously. “Hello, Sonja. Have you had any luck finding my lost item?”
Sonja’s shoulders slumped and she instantly felt ridiculous. “Was it a letter?”
Corrie’s eye instantly brightened up. “Yes, yes, that’s the one.”
“I’m sorry, Corrie. I accidentally shredded it.”
Corrie’s face drooped. “Oh, I see.”
“Who was that letter from, anyway?” Sonja pressed.
Corrie hesitated, her ears turning red with embarrassment. “Lincoln Bidwell.”
“Lincoln Bidwell,” she exclaimed.
“A few years after his wife’s accident, we started going together,” she admitted. “But he could never get over the death of his wife, so it was his last letter to me telling me he no longer wanted to see me.”
Sonja nodded. “That was why you were so spiteful about the award.”
She nodded, clearly embarrassed. “It’s a shame to lose that letter,” she commented. “I’ve had it in my purse every day since he broke it off.”
“I’m really sorry,” Sonja consoled, placing a hand on Corrie’s shoulder.
“Thanks,” she replied.
“I have to admit, Corrie. It’s nice to see this softer side of you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she nodded. “See both of you later.” Walking back to her car, she got in and drove off.
Sonja and Benjamin stood there for a moment in silence.
“So, you didn’t write that letter,” Sonja said, breaking the awkward silence.
“No,” he confirmed. “In fact, I’ve been sort of flustered since yesterday, but I really should just say something.”
She looked up into his eyes, eagerly awaiting his words.
“I wanted to apologize for leaving you alone at Shamus’ house. If he had turned out to be the killer, I could have easily let you get hurt or worse.”
Sonja nodded. “But he wasn’t the murderer. He loved his father.”
“I know, but it still doesn’t take away my fault here. I shouldn’t have gotten angry about your mother. Can you forgive me?”
She nodded. “I think so.”
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he added, “and now that you know I didn’t write you a letter, how would you like to do dinner another night?”
Feeling her heart sink a little, Sonja looked at the ground. “I’m really sorry,” she commented, “I just don’t think that would be fair.”
“Fair,” Benjamin protested quietly. “You mean to Sheriff Thompson?”
“Frank,” she corrected quietly. “I couldn’t date you both at the same time, Ben.”
The man standing before her shrugged. “Why not? Are you and Frank serious?”
Sonja looked down. “Well, no.”
“Then date us both,” he offered. “Get you know each of us, see who might be a better fit—or maybe someone else entirely is a better fit.”
He was grasping at straws now.
“I’m sorry, Benjamin. I just want to do this one at a time. I’ve never been much for dating—let alone dating around.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping.
“For now,” she commented, “let’s just be friends.”
“Friends?” he asked,
a clear look of surprise in his wide eyes.
She nodded. “I am going out with Frank . . . Sheriff Thompson tonight,” she admitted. “I’m going to see where that goes.”
Now, Benjamin looked more hurt than anything else. “You said you weren’t interested in him,” he retorted in a last ditch effort to save the conversation.
“Things changed,” she replied. “I didn’t realize it, but they’ve changed.”
Benjamin bit his bottom lip. “Okay then.” He paused uncomfortably. “Okay. I better get back off to the farm.” Turning around, Benjamin headed for his van—not pausing once to look back at the attractive young woman.
“I’ll see you around,” she called, but he didn’t respond back. Instead, he drove off toward the woods.
It was a painful conversation to say the least, but at least it was over.
Now Sonja faced the task of heading home and informing her mother that she had a date with Sheriff Thompson. She was sure her mother would be thrilled as she was.
Heading toward her car, Sonja debated about what she would wear.
The Wayward Waffle: Book 4 in The Diner of the Dead Series Page 12