Prologue

Scooby Doo was frightened. No shocker there. It was his first monthly session at the Government Anunnaki Lab since a month before when he had been blacked out for 3 hours and 42 minutes. They had gone back to the lab and reviewed files and video footage of the night and been able to account for 1 hour and 14 minutes of the time which left 2 hours and 28 minutes for which he had no memory. That time period occurred between when his Government driver dropped him off in the parking lot of his apartment complex and when he entered the apartment door.

Had he gone somewhere specific? Had he just wandered? Had he fallen asleep in some bushes or in front of their door? He and Velma and Shaggy had asked all of the neighbors, and no one remembered seeing him between those times. Although Amanda had already moved to Michigan at that time, they checked with her neighbors to see if anyone had seen Scooby – maybe sleepwalking. But none had. They checked Scooby's phone and he had made no texts or calls.

Then the Zanzabar case had come up and they were off to Tennessee. But now they were back, and it was, once again, Scooby's night for his monthly visit to the lab and he did not want to go alone. Luckily, it was Monday and the restaurant was closed. So, Shaggy was available which was why Scooby was lying on the floor behind Shaggy's desk waiting for the driver to arrive as Shaggy went through some of the endless reports which his clients - the insurance companies - required.

They were still getting used to the idea that Daphne was going to be working at Blake Industries with her sister for the next weeks if not months. When Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby were out Fred's earshot, they wondered whether this might be forever. All signs pointed to Daphne leaving the agency for good but she had said that she would be back, so they clung to that hope.

Fred was healing well from the wounds he had received in Tennessee and had even stopped taking the prescription-strength pain killers and was now on over-the-counter ibuprofen. That had him in better spirits since it kept his mind clear. He was at the doctor's office for what should be the final visit until his next annual check-up. There had been some grumbling because the new year had restarted his deductible and so he was having to pay for this visit out-of-pocket. But he and Daphne had gotten their money's worth out of their insurance the previous year with Fred being shot, Daphne being put into a coma, Fred being beaten up, and then Fred being surgically attacked.

This all put Shaggy and Scooby alone in the office when the bell over the front door rang. Scooby popped up and walked into the lobby, "Rerro Rerry."

Jerry, the driver, smiled, "Hi Scooby. I usually have to wake you up on Monday afternoons."

"Rye'm ride arake this time."

"Yeah, I guess you are. That must be freaky, losing time like that."

"Rotally freaky. Raggy's coming rith ree tonight."

"They told me."

On cue, Shaggy stepped into the room, "Hi Jerry. It'll be just a second while I forward the phone." Shaggy picked up the phone and started punching numbers to forward it to Fred. It no longer forwarded to Daphne. He looked up, "All set. Let's go."

Shaggy stopped again to lock the door and set the alarm and then they walked out to the dark blue generic Government sedan from the motor pool. Shaggy glanced at it and his first thought was that it would be a terrible tail car since it would be made as Government in a minute. He guessed he was becoming more of a detective than a restauranteur. That thought made him simultaneously pleased and displeased.

The ride to the lab was shared between Shaggy trying to tell anecdotes to lighten the tension and long periods of silence where the only sound inside the car was Scooby's claws tapping against the window. Their badges were all scanned at the gate and the car was passed through. Jerry pulled up in front of the building, "All right, Scooby, They'll let me know when you're done and I'll be waiting right here.

"Ranks, Rerry."

They placed their badges against another card reader and the door electric strike opened allowing them to step from the airlock into the entry lobby where they found Dr. Lentil 'Tilly' Weatherby waiting, "Hello Scooby and Shaggy. How are things going?"

"Hi Rilly. Rits been an interesting few reeks. Any update arout rye blackout?"

"Nothing. We're going to try something tonight and see where it leads us."

"Rike, doing the exact rame things rith the rame reople as last month and reeing what happens?"

She looked non-plussed, "And you came to that conclusion how?"

"Rye never have the rame driver two ronths in a row. Rot only was Rerry driving rut he was in the exact rame car. Rye recognized the ricense plate. Rhat is too unrusual to be a roincidence."

"I keep forgetting that you're a detective. Well, you knowing that in advance is not optimal but it's still the best idea we have."

"And Raggy rill be rith ree at all times."

"Again, not optimal. But I understand your trepidation." She turned to Shaggy, "And how are you, Shaggy."

"Like Scooby said, It's been a heck of a few weeks."

She turned back to Scooby, "Well, as you've figured out, you'll be spending the evening with Leon in psychology."

"Rhat's where Rye blacked out."

"And we will be monitoring you closely. Ready?"

"Roe."

"Are you willing to go anyway?"

"Res."

"Then follow me."

She led them to the room labeled Room M25, Psychiatric Evaluation. They entered into the same room they had both previously visited with a video wall, special raised bed for Scooby, a second chair with a desk next to it and a computer. The only difference was that a second chair had been crammed in next to the door for Shaggy. Seated at the desk was Dr. Leonard 'Leo' Petway, "Welcome, Scooby, Shaggy. It's good to see you both."

"Hi Reo."

Shaggy immediately noticed the platter of snacks on a tray in the corner. Not a bad layout. He reached for one.

Scooby's paw immediately snack-blocked him, "Rhose are for ree."

Leo looked up, "Scooby, I'm sure that you can share."

"Rwhatever rave roo that idea?"

Leo touched an intercom button, "Mike Sierra, this is Papa One Two, could you please bring another tray of food to my lab?"

The voice on the intercom answered, "Mike Sierra copy."

Shaggy's snacks arrived within five minutes and they all settled into their places. Leo got the helmet situated on Scooby's head and they went through the same process that Shaggy had watched on the video and then experienced himself. Shaggy pulled out his phone and kept a close track on the time. It was approaching 9:00 PM which was the time Scooby believed that he had blacked out. Shaggy glanced back and forth from his watch to his friend's face and back. Leo kept droning on with questions while Scooby kept repeating the answers. The images were constantly changing on the video wall and the pace of their change appeared to be steadily increasing.

At 9:07, Scooby suddenly looked up in the middle of an answer, "Do roo hear that?"

Leo and Shaggy both stopped and became alert.

"Hear what?" It was Leo.

"Rusic. Roo hear it?"

Shaggy shook his head, "In don't think so, pal."

Leo was concentrating, "Me neither. Nothing."

"Rit rust be in my head."

"What was the music?" Leo held a pen poised over a notepad.

"Rye think it ras the theme from the old show – first season."

Shaggy nodded, "You mean Scooby Doo, Where Are You?"

"Reah. Rye guess Rye was mistaken."

They finished the evaluation and Leo helped Scooby out of the helmet. Shaggy asked, "You feeling okay. Scoob? Do you know where you are and what you're doing?"

"Rye suppose. Re'll see if Rye remember everything in the morning."

Shaggy laughed, "If I had a nickel for every time I've said that."

"Roo couldn't carry the bag."

"It sounds like you're you. Ready to head back?"

"Reah, ret's go home."

"I'll let your driver know that you're headed out." Leo clicked on his computer and started scanning the schedule.

"Rits Rerry tonight."

Leo pointed at the screen, "Yep, I see it. He'll meet you out front."

"Rood right, Reo."

"Good night, Scooby. Later, Shaggy."

Scooby and Shaggy started down the corridor toward the front lobby. As they were passing the Dispatch – which was the security control center of the facility – the door opened and Maxine Bellows, the head of Security stepped out, "Oh, hello Scooby. How are you doing tonight!" She reached down and gave Scooby a friendly head scratch and brief neck rub.

"Rye'm okay, Rax. How are roo?"

"If I were any better, the Government would put a tax on it!"

"Rhat's rood to hear."

"Well, you two have a great night."

"Roo too. Rood right."

Tilly met them in the lobby and also bid them a good night and then Jerry, as promised, was waiting in the car out front. Scooby kept up a constant but unenlightening conversation with Jerry trying to explain why the NCAA should go to a 16-game play-off and Scooby explaining why he preferred the old college bowl system. They both agreed that a rule should be added to the game penalizing the referees for every call that took longer than 15 seconds. The debate ended in a draw.

Shaggy watched Scooby for any unusual behavior as they walked up the stairs to the apartment and they entered to find Velma sitting at the dining table with two books, a notepad, and her laptop spread out before her. "Hi guys. Everything go okay tonight?"

Scooby immediately pulled out his telephone and stylus and started typing into it while speaking, "Runeventful. They rid everything the exact rame as rast month to see rhat rould rappen. Rothing rappened."

He walked his phone over to Velma and laid it on the table next to her. Shaggy leaned over her shoulder and they both read the screen:

Check for a bug under my collar.

Velma looked up, nodded, stood, and talked as she headed back toward her and Shaggy's bedroom, "Hopefully, it was just an anomaly and won't ever happen again."

When Velma stepped into the bedroom, Shaggy took over, "Yeah Scoob. Maybe you just ate some bad pizza that night and it messed you up."

"Rhere's no such thing as rad Rizza."

Velma returned with a small handheld device and began waving it over Scooby's body, "Some of the things you two put on pizza is pretty nasty." She stopped and looked at the meter, "Okay, you're clean. Why were you thinking you were bugged?"

"Raxine, the security rady, isn rever rhat rappy and she rever pets me. Rhat ras a show for the rameras. Check under rye rollar."

Shaggy slipped his fingers and started working his way around Scooby's collar. About a quarter of the way around, he pulled out a tiny envelope which had been taped on the underside of the collar.

When Shaggy held it up, "Rhy is everyone sticking things runder my rollar rately?"

Velma shook her head, "It does seem to be the 'in' move."

Shaggy tilted up the nearest light and held the envelope up to it, "Doesn't seem to be powder inside. Unless anyone has a reason not to, I'm opening it."

With no one in dissent, Shaggy opened it and took out a small plastic-sealed packet with a note attached which read, Open and read contents within 30 seconds.

Shaggy looked at Velma, "Get your phone out."

Velma pulled out her phone and pulled up the camera app, "I'm ready."

Opening the plastic, Shaggy quickly pulled out a small slip of paper and laid it on the table. Velma took two pictures of it and then they read:

I need to meet with your team away from the lab. No one from our side must know about it. I will meet you at Cercey's Steak House in Riley at noon on Wednesday. Do not call or contact me to verify. I will explain everything there. PS-Do not come yourself, SD. You attract too much attention.

It was not signed but Scooby had no doubt that the author was Maxine Bellows.

They all watched as the original slip of paper dissolved into a pile of short white threads. Velma brought up the picture on her screen and read it again, "Well guys, it looks like we have another mystery."

"Rike ree reed another one."

Shaggy scratched at his chin, "I'm with you, pal. Maybe we can get through this one without anybody going to the hospital."

xXx

On Monday afternoon, while Shaggy and Scooby were waiting for the Jerry to pick them up and take them to the lab, Fred was sitting in a chair in Tim McAdam's office. Fred usually laid on the couch during his therapy sessions but his back wasn't quite yet healed enough from the attack he had suffered in Tennessee to be comfortable putting weight on it. So, he was perched on the front edge of the chair as he and the psychologist stared at each other waiting to see who would talk first.

The therapist broke the ice, "May I fill you in on what I know about what you have been doing since our last session?"

"Where did you find out? From Velma?"

"Given that she is also my client, that is a reasonable guess."

"Aren't you supposed to not tell me what she says?"

"These are just facts. Velma rarely elaborates or extrapolates. I trust that they are specific and correct."

"Should she be talking about me in her sessions?"

"She can talk about whatever she wishes."

Fred thought for a moment, "It probably saves time. What did she tell you?"

"You and Daphne are now living at separate locations. Correct?"

"We are."

"Within days after the beginning of this trial separation, you had sex with another woman and Daphne caught you. Correct?"

"That is correct."

"In your last case, you were specifically targeted and attacked, leaving you with very painful wounds."

"They're getting better."

"Those are the facts that I know. May I ask some follow-up questions?"

Fred nodded.

"The last time we spoke, you and Daphne were in discussions regarding having a child. Did that issue get resolved?"

Fred paused trying to figure out the answer to the question. After a moment, he figured out that there wasn't a good answer so he just started talking, "Sort of. She decided to go ahead and get pregnant without my agreement."

"She had an affair?"

"No. She stopped her birth control without telling me. I didn't find out until she was already pregnant."

"How did you react to that?"

Fred shrugged, "Everything else you said. Separation… Infidelity."

"How are the communications between you two now?"

"Not good. She's working at her father's company now and I don't see her much."

"Do you want to?"

It was the most important questions that Fred hated the most. "I don't know. It's complicated."

"Don't think about it. No details. All feelings. Do you want to see her? Don't hesitate. Just answer."

"Yes. I feel incomplete. We've been together in one way or another for most of our lives."

"So, you think you'll be happy if you two get back together?"

"Happy?"

"Yeah, I chose that word carefully. It's a psychology thing. Do you think you will be happy if you get back together?"

"I can't picture being happy."

"Can you remember being happy in the past?"

The memory hit Fred instantly. He and Daphne had been at The Canard Restaurant on their last anniversary. He remembered in irony that the discussion had been her explanation for why she wanted a baby. The memory replayed before Fred's mind's eye…

She launched into the mentally rehearsed portion of the presentation, "If you could sum up your feelings about where our life is now in one word, what would the word be?"

The first thing that he noticed was that his wife used the plural adjective 'our' along with the singular noun 'life.' 'Our life.' The warm feeling from this turn of phrase gave him his answer, "Happy."

Fred popped out of his revery to find Tim staring at him, patiently awaiting an answer, "Yes, I can remember being happy."

"When was it?"

"A few months ago."

"Was Daphne involved?"

"Daphne was… it. She was all of it. She was the… happy."

"But you don't feel those feelings now?"

"I don't know. I remember them. But I only feel… I don't know what I feel."

"What changed?"

"I killed Frank Herring."

"Yes. You did. And you think you should be punished for that."

"Apparently I didn't do anything illegal."

"So, you want to be punished and no one is willing to punish you."

"That sounds stupid."

"It does. Doesn't it? So, when no one is willing to punish you, then you have no option but to punish yourself. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

"It sounds like psychobabble."

"That doesn't make it untrue. Can I ask you another question?"

This was getting annoying. Tim obviously had some point to make, why didn't he just go ahead and make it? "Go ahead."

"Have you punished yourself enough?"

Fred had seen that one coming, "This whole line of reasoning is based on an assumption."

"Maybe my last question will sum it up then."

"Bring it."

"Have you punished Daphne enough?"

These words hit Fred like a body blow. He shuddered twice and squeezed his eyes shut. Fred Jones would not cry. His body continued to shudder. Twice. Three times. Four times. Nausea hit his stomach and he forced the bile back down.

"Fuck you, Tim."

Tim allowed a long pause to pass before saying, "Fred, I don't think I can help you anymore."

This came at Fred completely out of left field. Something in the back of his mind registered that the therapist was throwing this at him when he had obviously been impacted by the last question. It was a tactic to keep him off balance and it was working. As many times as he had thought about quitting therapy, he now knew that he needed it. He needed it desperately. Everywhere else in his life, he was surrounded by people who loved and forgave him. This was the only place where Tim forced him to go back over and over again to that night. To relive the horror of when he had taken a man's life… and relished it. This was the only place where he was forced to feel the grief and the anguish and the guilt. This was the only place where he got the punishment he deserved.

"What do you mean… you can't help me anymore?"

"You said it yourself. As you are, you are incomplete. We are trying to treat half a problem. You can't come back here again until you and Daphne come together."

This had been brought up before. Fred had even mentioned it once to Daphne. That had been weeks ago.

"No."

"Then I'm afraid that you'll have to find a new therapist. I've become convinced that the key to your recovery lies in dealing with the whole problem which requires both you and your wife."

Tim clearly wasn't backing down. Fred weighed his options and said, "I'll talk to her."