howdy folks! so sorry for such a late update, not to mention such a short chapter... don't worry! great things coming for freddie and the gang in the last four chapters! 3

Chapter Ten: Cometh the Hour (Cometh the Man)

Daphne rolled over beside me, pulling the fire-engine red sheets up to cover her chest. The crimson backdrop seemed to light her ginger hair ablaze and add a pinkish hue to her complexion. In her sleepy and disheveled state, she looked like Aphrodite, or some equally clichéd vision of beauty.

I had been by no means a professional in the what-people-do-in-the-Honeymoon-Suite business. It was clear that Daphne was- and that she'd knocked on my door more than prepared for the events that transpired. I couldn't decide whether or not that should have shocked me, but I was sure that I had been pleased with the outcome. Being with Daphne like that had been such a rush- even now I felt almost intoxicated.

Which brought my thoughts back to the drugs. I wasn't sure yet what I wanted to do, but I knew I couldn't let my father get away with his crimes (what they were, I wasn't exactly sure). As Daphne had told me last night, I wouldn't let this end on his terms. Not anymore. Maybe it was the pep talk, or perhaps her repeatedly screaming out how amazing I was shortly after, but Daphne had changed my perspective about all of this. Where I would go from there was a mystery.

I furrowed by brow, my eyes focused intensely on a spot on the ceiling mirror and how it might have gotten there. I hardly noticed Daphne as she leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on a spot she'd marked on my neck the previous night, and wrapped my arm around her purely out of instinct.

"What's wrong?" She asked, as though she could read my thoughts. I supposed I had been telegraphing quite a bit.

"I'm just thinking." I sighed. Daphne rested her head on my shoulder and looked up at me in the mirror.

"About?" She asked, tracing shapes on my bare chest with her finger.

"I don't know," I replied. "I want to stop my dad- really, I do... How, though? How does one go about these things?"

"If anyone can do it, it's you," she cooed. "But you aren't alone. I hope you know that."

Daphne let out a soft breath, and it didn't take long before she fell back asleep. I laid with her for a while, thinking about what she'd just told me.

I stood by what I'd said the previous day- this was too dangerous to let my friends get swept up in. If my father was really killing people, I didn't want them in the line of fire. I had the advantage, assuming that my dad would never hurt his own son. This meant that, even if I wasn't really alone, I would have to be.

I carefully slipped my arm out from under Daphne, not wanting her to wake up. In the dim light, I scrambled to pull on my underwear and a clean (well, sort of clean) pair of jeans. I paused as I turned to leave the Honeymoon Suite, considering whether or not I should leave a note for Daphne, or maybe a kiss on the forehead- just to be cute. I decided against it. We both knew she wasn't interested in "cute."

The Mystery Machine's engine growled as it came to life, like a bear being woken from hibernation. It was an old and damaged, now also tainted with the unyielding stain of permanent markers- but it ran.

My van used to be a vessel for every hardship I'd ever faced in my life. When I looked at it, all I could see was my cold and distant father, my dead mother, my lack of direction, and my own self-doubt. It was a reflection of myself- tired and unwanted. But something had changed last night, and it was as if the van had undergone the same growth that I had. This was no longer a depressed pile of scrap metal, but a loyal and determined companion, who had withstood the test of time, and would continue to for many years. It was, in every sense of the term, a Mystery Machine.

Cars filled the parking lot of the Coolsville Ritz, and lined up and down Main Street. Today was the day of my father's summit, making it the perfect opportunity to expose his crimes. I could unmask him in front of an audience, and the world would know what kind of a man he truly was- not just a few teenagers.

I stopped the van right in front of the hotel's side entrance and climbed out. Any parking ticket I might have gotten would likely be torn to shreds once I caught the serial killer that had been plaguing Coolsville for the past week.

The downside to a large audience was that the Ritz was impossibly crowded, with men and women filling the lobby and the dining room, moving between each other like bees in a hive. I seemed to throw off the rhythm, awkwardly bumping between people as I scanned the area for a familiar face- hopefully my father's. Instead, I noticed a man with his back to me, sitting at the bar with his wide brimmed hat pulled low over his face.

I approached the sheriff from behind as he downed a shot of whiskey, placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't turn to face me.

"You shouldn't be here, kid." He slurred as the bartender refilled his glass. The bartender shot me a worried look. It was too early to be drinking like this.

"I'm looking for my father," I told him. "Have you seen him?"

The sheriff scoffed as he drank the freshly poured whiskey.

"He's up in the penthouse," he said, "making last minute preparations."

"What kind of preparations?" I asked.

Sheriff Stone stood up, his knees wobbling as he did. He reached out towards the bar for support, and used his other hand to poke me in the chest.

"Go home." He boomed. He looked up from beneath the brim of his hat, and I could clearly make out fear in his eyes as he lifted me slightly by the collar of my shirt. His hot breath smelled of alcohol and poured across my face.

"Sheriff Stone, are you alright?" I asked, my voice low enough so only he could hear me.

The sheriff dropped me back to the floor, steadying himself once more against the bar.

"Just get out of here, Jones," he groaned. "While you still can."

Unsurprisingly, I didn't heed his generous warning.

The service elevator was the only one which could access the penthouse suite without a key, but it wasn't hard to sneak into. Had Shaggy been here, he probably would have put on a bow tie and pretended to be a waiter with a very important room service delivery for the mayor- but I was alone, so I took the more obvious route, which was just telling the hotel staff that I wanted to surprise my father. Even when we were at our most distant, the perks of being the mayor's son never ceased.

This elevator moved much slower than those built for guests, which provided ample time for me to begin to panic. It was safe to say that I didn't have much of a plan- a recurring theme over these past four days. In fact, I wasn't even sure what my father had done. Evidence suggested he owned and operated a drug ring, which he was using to poison politicians- but other than that? So far, the only eyewitness reported a monster had been killing people. Although my father's involvement in these crimes was unclear, one thing was certain: I was merely inches away from the truth.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as the elevator doors began to open slowly, revealing the vast penthouse suite, where my father's shadow cloaked the room like a thick blanket.

He stood by the vast picture window, not turning to face me as I stood in the darkness he'd created. I wagered that he knew I was there, but then again, he'd never been to good at noticing me, had he?

That was all about to change. My father would go to jail and spend the rest of his miserable life thinking about his son who locked him away, assuming everything went well.

But these things never do.

as i said, this was kinda a short and mostly pointless chapter, but i needed a way to transition into the climax and hopefully this works? hopefully chapter eleven will be out next week.