A Waffle Lot of Murder Read online

  A Waffle Lot of Murder

  The All-Day Breakfast Café Series by Lena Gregory

  Scone Cold Killer

  Murder Made to Order

  A Cold Brew Killing

  A Waffle Lot of Murder

  Table of Contents

  The All-Day Breakfast Café Series by Lena Gregory

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Recipes from the All-Day Breakfast Café!

  Keep reading for a special excerpt of A Cold Brew Killing. By Lena Gregory!

  About the Author

  A Waffle Lot of Murder

  An All-Day Breakfast Café Mystery

  Lena Gregory

  LYRICAL UNDERGROUND

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  LYRICAL UNDERGROUND BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Lena Gregory

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Lyrical Underground and Lyrical Underground logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: October 2020

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-1045-2 (ebook)

  ISBN-10: 1-5161-1045-5 (ebook)

  First Print Edition: October 2020

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-1048-3

  ISBN-10: 1-5161-1048-X

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  Greg, thank you for believing in me!

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not have been possible without the support and encouragement of my husband, Greg. We’ve built a wonderful life together, and I can’t wait to see where our journey will lead next. I’d like to say a big thank you to my children, Elaina, Nicky, and Logan, and to my son-in-law, Steve, for their understanding and help while I spent long nights at the computer. My husband and children are truly the loves of my life.

  I also have to thank my best friend, Renee, for all her support, long conversations and reading many rough drafts. I still wouldn’t know how to use Word without her help. I’d like to thank my sister, Debby, and my Dad, Tony, who are probably my biggest fans and have read every word I’ve ever written. To my agent, Dawn Dowdle, thank you for believing in me and for being there in the middle of the night every time I have a question. Words cannot express my gratitude to my editor, Elizabeth May, for giving me this opportunity and for her wonderful advice and assistance in polishing this manuscript.

  Chapter One

  “That letter is not gonna open itself, ya know.” Savannah snatched the envelope Gia had been turning over and over for the better part of five minutes, slid the tip of one rhinestone-studded maroon nail beneath the flap, and slit it open.

  “Yeah, well…” Gia climbed back onto her step ladder and returned to the cornucopia she was arranging on a shelf behind the All-Day Breakfast Café’s counter in honor of fall’s impending arrival. At least, everyone assured her fall was coming. Hard to tell without the leaves changing color and the crisp clean air that would have heralded the change of season in New York. Whatever devastating news awaited her inside the envelope could wait until she was done decorating. “Remember what happened last time I received a letter from the town council?”

  “That’s a little dramatic, don’t ya think?” Savannah waved her off and started reading. “How long has this been sitting here? It’s dated over a week ago.”

  Gia spread some hay around the shelf beneath the arrangement. “I don’t know. A few days, I guess. I picked up the mail on Friday but didn’t get to go through it all until this morning.”

  “Mmm-hmm…” Savannah shot her a knowing look and lifted a brow. “AKA, you saw the town council return address, tossed the letter aside, and ignored it for the weekend.”

  And there’s the down side of having a best friend who knew you too well. “It’s possible it went something like that.”

  Earl and Cole, who were both sitting at the counter drinking coffee, and good enough friends to get away with it, laughed.

  Earl, the elderly gentleman who’d been her first customer when she’d opened the café, pointed to her work in progress. “You have an empty space there.”

  Gia straightened, then leaned back, careful not to tumble off the step ladder. Sure enough, he was right. She shifted a couple of gourds to fill in the hole. “Better?”

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin and set it aside, then pushed his empty plate away, sat back and studied her creation. “Yup.”

  “Makes me realize fall’s comin’.” Cole, who worked the grill a few days a week to help her out and to alleviate his own post-retirement boredom, stood and took his and Earl’s empty breakfast plates, then rounded the counter to put them in the bin Gia kept there. “I gotta get started prepping to open.”

  “Sit a few more minutes. Have another cup of coffee if you want. I already cut up all the vegetables last night.” Though they’d had a huge Sunday morning breakfast crowd, the evening had slowed enough for her to get started preparing what they’d need for Monday morning.

  Savannah held the letter out to Gia. When she didn’t take it right away, Savannah shook it. “Look.”

  Gia made no move to take the letter. Her last experience with the town council had left a bitter taste in her mouth, but if Savannah’s enthusiasm was any indication, this letter might not threaten such dire consequences. “I guess they’re not trying to shut me down again.”

  “Nope. On the contrary, this is awesome. Who knows? Maybe they want to make nice after your last encounter.” She grinned and thrust the letter toward Gia again. “Now take this, and see for yourself.”

  Gia set the small pumpkin and gourd she was holding aside, climbed down from the step ladder, and took the letter from Savannah.

  “See?” she squeaked.

  “Savannah, I haven’t even started reading it yet.”

  “Well, I’ll save you the trouble. You’ve been invited to participate in the annual Haunted Town Festival.” She squealed and clasped her hands together.

  After quickly scanning the letter, Gia tossed it onto the counter. “It says I’ve been cordially invited and I can have a table and a house. What does that mean, exactly?”

  Savannah grabbed a can of Diet Pepsi from the small refrigerator beneath the counter, despite the perfectly good soda fountain sitting right above it, and popped the top—how she managed it with those long nails, Gia had no clue. “The Haunted Town Festival is huge, probably the biggest event of the year around here.”

  “All the proceeds go to the animal shelter, so people come from all over to support it.” Cole refilled his and Earl’s coffee cups.

  “Thanks,” Earl said and took a sip. “He’s right. All of my kids come with their kids, been doing it every year since they were little, and none of them have ever missed a festival.”

  Cole lifted the coffee pot toward Gia.

  “No, thanks.” She’d already had three cups—any more and she’d be too jittery to work. “What do they mean by a table and a house?”

  “Okay.” Excitement brightened Savannah’s already brilliant blue eyes. “So, the Festival is held on the old farmlands just outside of town. There are a large number of abandoned outbuildings out there, and most of them are used for themed houses. Like haunted houses and the like. You get to set up your house with whatever theme you want, and then, on the night of the Festival, you have a bunch of people work your house and scare the p
eople coming through.”

  “Those houses are hard to get. The same groups get them every year.” Earl frowned. “I wonder whose house opened up?”

  “I heard Tim and Cathy retired and moved up to Pennsylvania to be by their youngest who just had her third baby in less than five years,” Cole said.

  “Certainly sounds like she could use the help,” Earl agreed. “But what did they do with their plumbing business?”

  “Their oldest son took it over, but he must have decided not to do the house this year. Who knows?” Cole shrugged. “Maybe it was too much, with taking over the business and all, or maybe he just didn’t want to do it without the rest of the family.”

  “Either way, I guess you lucked out that a house is available.” Savannah tapped a nail against the letter. “There’s a number right there. You’d better call right away. That house will go fast, if it hasn’t already. I sure hope they held it for you, being they sent an invitation and all.”

  “I don’t know.” It sounded involved, and if it was too much for someone who’d been doing it for years, how was she supposed to pull it off? Of course she didn’t know why the last person had backed out. “What about the table? What’s that?”

  “The table is great advertising, the chance to get word out and offer a variety of samples from your menu. We can put out a few different dishes, easy to eat things you can pick up and eat on the go; homemade muffins, scones…” Cole snapped his fingers. “Oh, you know what would be perfect? Some of those pumpkin spice waffles you were playing around with last week.”

  “And don’t forget the cold brew coffee.” Savannah grabbed an order pad and pen and started jotting notes. “Maybe we could even do a smaller version of your breakfast pies, like make them in little mini pie tins people could carry with them or sit at one of the picnic tables and eat.”

  The table sounded like a great idea, get word out about her business, let people taste some of her menu items. “Maybe I could just do the table and not the house.”

  “Nah,” Cole said. “The table is work and great advertising, but the house is the fun part.”

  “Then it’s settled.” Savannah scooped the letter off the counter and held it out to Gia.

  Gia held up her hands. “Wait, guys—”

  “And don’t forget home fries. They’ll be sure to bring in customers.” Earl winked at Gia.

  “Thank you, Earl, but I—”

  “You know what?” Savannah fished her cell phone out of her oversized mustard-yellow bag, checked the number on the letter, and dialed. “I’ll just call them myself.”

  “Wait. I didn’t even—”

  She held up a finger and turned away. “Hello? Yes, hi. I’m calling for Gia Morelli at the All-Day Breakfast Café…Yes…Sure, I can hold…”

  “Savannah, wait—”

  She turned back toward Gia and covered the mouthpiece. “You’re the one who’s always talking about missing fall in New York, missing the old traditions you had, driving out on Long Island… Yes, I’m still here.”

  Earl picked up where she left off. “Hitting up the farm stands, pumpkin picking…”

  “Roasted sweet corn, apple cider,” Cole added.

  She shot them a dirty look. “You two aren’t helping matters.”

  They just laughed at her. Traitors.

  Savannah sighed. “I’m on hold again.”

  “All right, so maybe I have been missing New York, and perhaps I’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

  Savannah pinned her with a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me glare. “Ya think?”

  Gia scowled, though she couldn’t really argue. As much as she loved Boggy Creek, straying from the familiar was proving difficult at times, especially with the arrival of her favorite season.

  “Well, you’ll never stop missing your old traditions if you don’t start making new ones,” Savannah said.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “Of course I am.” She smirked. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”

  “I think the table is a great idea, but maybe we could skip—”

  Savannah held up a finger and returned to her call. “Yes. Yes, we haven’t decided on one yet, but I’ll get back to you later on and let you know…”

  “Looks like you’re doing the Festival.” Earl laughed out loud with no regard whatsoever for the look of horror that had to be plastered on her face if the sinking feeling in her gut was any indication.

  “But I—”

  “Ah, let her have her fun.” Cole grinned at Earl. “Now for the good part.”

  “Oh, what’s the good part?” At the moment, nothing sounded good, or fun. It all seemed like an overwhelming amount of work and less time she could spend with Thor, her Bernese Mountain Dog. Hard to believe he had just turned a year old and she’d had him for almost that long. At the same time, it seemed he had been a part of her life forever and she couldn’t imagine being without him.

  Earl nodded toward her, his eyes filled with understanding. “First off, I know that look. It’s the same one my daughter-in-law gets every time she’s invited to something that doesn’t include her little girl. So let me ease your mind. Thor can be with you while you set up and work on the house, and he can be there before and after the haunting hours. Guests are allowed to bring their pets, but Zoe gets a bunch of high school students together and sets up an old stable as a doggie day care center for the workers.”

  Zoe had been watching Thor since Gia brought him home, and she was amazing. “I guess that would be all right.”

  “It’s for his own safety. During the peak hours, you are ‘haunting’ your house, so it’s dark and creepy, and you can’t really keep an eye on him.”

  “Speaking of pets, have you ever considered some kind of pet breakfast food?” Cole turned the pad Savannah had been using around and jotted something down. “We could make something up and offer it at the Festival to get an idea if people and their pets like them.”

  Hmm…that was a good idea. A homemade breakfast treat for dogs. She could set up a stand by the door of the café for them. “I like that idea. Maybe something with peanut butter. Thor loves peanut butter.”

  “And bacon,” Earl added with a grin. “Who doesn’t love bacon?”

  Gia was beginning to warm to the whole event. At least, the table part of it. The house she wasn’t so sure about. She’d never even visited a haunted house, never mind trying to set one up and work it.

  “Woo hoo!” Savannah pumped her fist in the air. “We got it!”

  “The house?”

  “Yup. Now we just have to come up with a theme.”

  “A theme?” Gia’s stomach turned over. What had Savannah gotten her into?

  “Yeah, you know, like vampires or werewolves or something.”

  “Nah.” Cole shook his head. “How about something different? Something unusual.”

  “Clowns.” Earl tapped the pad Cole was jotting ideas on. “Write that one down. Every single one of my kids is terrified of clowns. We could do a circus themed house.”

  “We?” Hmm…maybe, if they all pitched in and worked on it with her the whole thing wouldn’t be so bad. She had to admit, it would be nice to spend time with her friends somewhere other than work.

  “Of course. What? Did you really think we’d throw you to the wolves without backup?” Earl grinned. “Besides, you don’t really think I’d miss this, do you? I bet some of my kids would love to participate too. And my grandson is old enough. It sure would be nice to spend some time doing something fun with him.”

  “Don’t forget Willow and Skyla,” Cole tossed out. “And maybe Trevor and some of the kids who work in his shop want to join us too.”

  “And my brothers.” Savannah frowned. “Wait…Didn’t the Ramseys do clowns last year?”

  “Oh yeah, you might be right.” Cole scratched clowns off the list. “How about zombies?”

  Savannah waved off the idea. “Zombies are overrated. Besides, every haunted attraction has zombies.”

  “True.” Cole tapped the pen against the pad, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  Apparently, the Haunted Town Festival was a serious event in Boggy Creek. At least, it was to her friends.