Eventually, Lauren calmed down. I couldn't comprehend how she must be feeling. Oh, I knew what it was like to lose someone of course, but in the eyes of the world, Clifford Burns had blown up the restaurant. She had to live with that. Only we knew the truth. Well, suspected it at least.
Velma sat down at the end of Lauren's bed, and took her hand gently. "I'm sorry, I've to to ask this. But...are you sure Cliff wasn't like...I dunno...he didn't have a grudge against the boss or anything? He didn't have any past issues that-"
"No!" screamed Lauren. "I knew him better than anyone, he was-"
At this point, she was so angry that her speech became incomprehensible even to me. I didn't blame her.
"All right, calm down babe." I raised my hand, "You need to talk slower, we can't understand you."
Lauren shook her head. "You can stay." she told me, "but you, get out." she told Velma, pointing to the door. "Get out!"
Velma welled up. "I'm sorry..." she said weakly. "I do believe you, but..."
"Go on Velmster." I said softly. "Honestly, we shouldn't all be in here like this. Why don't you lot go for a walk?"
"Well, uh..." Shaggy began.
I stared at him. "Yes, there's a cafeteria!" I sighed.
"Groovy! Come on guys."
"All right." Fred said, "It was nice to meet you, Lauren."
She shrugged. "Yeah."
The other three left, Velma still looking guilty. I smiled at Lauren, and she half-returned it.
"Sorry, hon. She doesn't mean to be insensitive, she's just got a very logical mind."
"Yeah. I just miss him..." she said miserably. "I can't live without him, I can't..."
"No!" I said firmly, "Don't say that. I know what it's like to lose someone, and I promise you- it gets better. Not quickly, not always totally. But it does."
"Who did you lose?" she asked.
"My older sister." I replied. "She was murdered. By that little boy you saw in the restaurant."
Her eyes widened. "But who is he?" she asked. "He was just standing there in the dining room, smiling at me. I'd gone out, but-"
As she started telling me about it, she began talking faster, and again I had to slow her down. She sighed in frustration, and grabbed the pen and paper Velma had left behind.
I read it. "So, Lauren...this rude guy who laughed at you just before the explosion. I'm not saying that Cliff did it because of him, because I don't think that's true. But you have to accept that it looks that way to everyone else, especially if there was someone tormenting him. It looks like he was a dangerous man, pushed too far."
Lauren nodded. "I know what it looks like, all right? But he'd never hurt anyone. I know that."
"And I do believe you!" I assured her. "I do think he caused the explosion, I don't think he knew what he was doing."
"So, this thing...the Whispering. It's some kind of monster, and it killed your sister?"
"Yeah, and we think it will kill again in four days."
"But that's not why your here..." she said, "You are here because it engraved my name on someone before I was born?"
"Yeah..."
"But why?" she asked, looking scared. "Why would it do that? My parents aren't even from Coolsville or anything...it doesn't make sense."
"I know," I stood up, straightening her covers. "Look, I'm sorry to have come like this. We just thought maybe you might know of something...if you don't that's cool. But we had to check."
"So what will you do?" she asked.
I sighed. "I dunno. Carry on. Try and stop it...all we can do is give it our best shot, and-"
"I'm coming."
I stared at her. "W...what? No, Lauren. Your badly hurt, you can't leave hospital."
"I'm fine!" she snapped, throwing back the covers and swinging her legs off the bed. "It killed my boyfriend, and if you are gonna do something about that, I want to help."
"No, no, no!" I watched in dismay as she got dressed. "You can't, Lauren. When you are better, maybe, but..."
I stopped. She wasn't watching my lips, she was getting her things together. She couldn't hear a word of my protests. I tried to get her to look at me, but she delibaratley looked the other way. "Look!" I shouted uselessly. "You can't just leave. This is dangerous! Get well! Be with your family. Please don't endanger your life by getting involved."
Finally she looked up at me. "Sorry." she said in her muffled voice. "I didn't quite catch that." she bustled past me out of the door, leaving he standing uselessly in her wake.
Fifteen minutes later, she was marching out of the hospital, despite the doctors' best efforts to dissuade her. I tagged along helplessly. The last thing I had wanted was to get another innocent person involved...yet somehow, she was involved. We didn't understand how, but there had to be a link...her name, carved into Robson many years ago...now her boyfriend causing the explosion at Boccino Heights...there had to be a link.
She tapped me on the shoulder. "Car?" she inquired.
"Yeah, it's..." I stopped. The Mystery Machine had been in a space just a little way down the parking lot. Now, that space sat empty. Even as I watched, a smart little car pulled into it. "What..." I stared at the space, to Lauren and back again.
"It's gone!" I said clearly. "My friends must have left without us..."
Lauren rolled her eyes. "Taxi then?"
"I guess so..." I said, checking my phone. Velma had texted a few minutes ago, but I'd been too busy trying to stop Lauren from leaving the hospital. I opened it now - "soz Daph, Fred's idea." My eyes narrowed. What were they doing?
/
Fred
I sat in the smart lounge of the Blake residence, twitching my thumbs nervously. "Velma, you should do the talking, all right?"
Velma gave me a hard stare. "This was your idea!" she replied. "You do it."
"Oh but-"
"No. Your idea, you talk to him. Not me. You ain't scared of him are you?"
"Yes!" I whimpered, turning to Shaggy. "Shaggy, man...maybe you-"
"No way, pal." Shaggy said shortly. "What if he hurts me?"
"What about me?" I whined. "Please, can-"
My blood froze. Daphne's father had just walked in.
"Yes, yes, well yes?" George snapped aggressively, sitting down in his favourite armchair. "What the blazes do you want?"
I gulped, and replied in a shaky voice. "Sorry, Mr. Blake...I was hopi-"
"Uh, one moment, please." he cut across me, giving me a blood-curdling stare. "You recall, I hope, that you are always unwelcome in my home. I thought I told you that?"
I nodded, "You did sir...yes, but it's urgent."
"Well?" he growled. I sat, rooted to the seat...it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but...what if he killed me? What if he actually killed me? What was I thinking, telling him everything? He'd never believe me...I turned to Velma, who looked away stubbornly. Literally shaking, I turned to Mr. Blake again.
"Well it's-"
"One second, please." he barked, standing up and grabbing an antique golf-club from next to the fireplace. He sat down again cradling it in his hands, saying nothing of it. He glanced at me again.
I forced myself to calm down. Looking him in the eye (when I could bear it) I began telling him everything that had happened in the past few months. The more I spoke, the calmer and more confident I started to feel.
"And so..." I finished finally, "We're just totally clueless about what to do, sir...we think it will kill again in three days from now. We just can't handle it...we can't." I finished lamely.
George had listened quietly, and for a long minute said nothing at all. Finally, he spoke.
"So my daughter was killed by a...what was it?"
"It usually looks like a child." Velma replied, finally speaking. "Or sometimes it looks like the adult version of the child...but that's just what we see. It's some sort of...extra-dimensional hive mind. I can't really explain it..."
"Clearly."
"Yeah, well...Mr. Blake, you have to believe us. We've got proof, if you don't."
"Yes, yes, yes, whatever." George raised his hand, silencing her. "Let's assume, for now, that I did believe this nonsense. What in the blazes do you expect me to do about it? I'm angry, yes I'm angry! My daughter was killed by a lunatic. How dare you use her death as a part of this crap! How dare you?"
I shrank down in my seat. George had gone red in the face, and was gripping the golf-club by the handle. I whimpered involuntarily. Velma was more relaxed. He respected Velma slightly more than me, and whatever his flaws, he would never raise a hand against a woman.
"You've got...forgive me...connections, haven't you? Terry Vasquez?"
"He went off the grid."
"All right, well someone like him. Is there anyone who could help? If we at least had some sort of muscle behind us, the ability to defend ourselves...we..."
George rose from his seat, the club raised above his head. He was coming at me. "Help!" I squealed, as Shaggy screamed and fell over the back of the seat to get away. He was going to hit me, I knew it. I managed to duck just as the club came crashing down, breaking the backrest of my seat. I sank my right fist into George's stomach, hard. He groaned, but it didn't stop him coming. He swung the club again, narrowly missing my head.
"George!" Velma screamed, "Stop!"
But he didn't stop. He swung the club again, and once again I aimed for his stomach. But he knew what I was doing. At the last second, he threw the club down and grabbed my fist in a tight hold. He lifted me bodily off the floor, and slammed me down. I groaned as my body went crashing to the floor. He leaned over me, tears in his eyes.
"Listen here, you stupid, worthless, little twerp." he growled. "My daughter is dead! My wife and I are grieving and you and these two idiots are trying to make a case for yourself out of it. I won't have it."
"That ain't how it happened!" I protested. "We didn't believe Daph at first...it was her who made us believe it."
"I won't hear any more of this!" he bellowed, throwing his club back over to the fireplace.
"You two," he grunted at Velma and Shaggy. "Get this lummox out of my house." he gave me a kick in the ribs, sending a fresh bolt of pain down my body.
"And you..." he said to me softly, anger dripping from his voice. "Keep your hands away from Daphne. She likes you, and that's the only reason you aren't leaving here in individual pieces in a plastic bag. Do you get that? Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
I nodded, allowing the others to haul me up off the floor. They half-carried me from the room, and out of the manor. We sat back down in the Mystery Machine, with Velma at the wheel. I wasn't up to driving.
"That was inevitable, pal." Shaggy said to me quietly.
I nodded, massaging my aching ribs gently. How could I have been so stupid? Velma had said he'd never believe me, and Daphne would be furious with me...
"Don't blame yourself Fred." Velma said bluntly. "He's a thug and a bully, but he's helped us out in the past. Maybe it was worth asking, I don't know...maybe he'll come to change his mind, especially when someone dies in...well, three days now."
I looked at her. "Don't say that..." I murmured. "We're trying to stop it..."
Nobody replied. Could we stop it? Or would we all die trying?
For once in my life, I truly couldn't tell.
Note: Terry Vasquez is a character from a previous story of mine, not part of any official Scooby Doo franchise.
