"All right, boys." Sam says as the photographers leave, "You can take her away now."
The paramedics place Susie's body on a stretcher and take her out the door to an ambulance outside. Sam looks over at the gang who are sitting at one end of the room each trying to convince themselves that it was all one big horrible dream. He walks over to Velma and looks down at her. "Velma," he says sitting next to her, "are you okay?" The girl takes in a deep breath and sighs, "I don't know. It's...it's just the way that her eyes looked at me when she died...like that of great fear. I wanted to close them but..."
"You just couldn't bring yourself to touch a corps?" Sam tries to finish.
Velma just nods and replies, "Yeah, I suppose you could put it that way." She glances over to the chair in which Norville is sitting. Sam follows her eyes and sees the boy staring down at his feet and, by the expression on his face, trying to figure out what had just happened.
"Poor kid." Sam finally emphasizes, "He's too young to experience a thing like this—a woman murdered, shot down like a dog, before his very eyes."
"Yes," Velma agrees as Shaggy walks up to his nephew and gives him a hug, "he is a bit young to comprehend a thing like this...but then, in a sense, aren't we all?" She gets up and walks up to Shaggy and his nephew. "Are you feeling better, Norville?" she asks the boy.
Norville just nods slightly. He then lifts his head and fixes his eyes on a pool of blood on the floor. His face turns pale as if he was going to feel sick in his stomach. Fred notices this, walks up with Daphne and places his hand on Shaggy's shoulder. "Why don't you take Norville to the Mystery Machine, Shag." He says, "I'm sure he will feel better there." Shaggy nods in agreement. "Come on, Norville." He says lifting his little nephew, "Let's go wait in the van." As he leaves the room, he turns to the rest of the gang and says, "We'll, like, see you guy's later." He then whispers to himself, "Like, I had a feeling something like this was going to happen. 'Trust me' he says...oh boy!" And with that, leaves with Scooby at his heels.
Sam approaches the remainder of the gang. "Uh," he begins in a slightly hesitant manner, "I guess I owe you guys an apology. I'm sorry for not believing you earlier."
Daphne, Fred and Velma look at each other not knowing what to say.
"I would suppose that verdict is now murder, right?" Fred asks.
"Yeah." The Sheriff replies, "There will probably be another inquest in the morning."
"Hey, Sam!" an officer calls out from one end of the room, "Look what I found!" The officer walks forward with a little bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. As he unwraps it, everyone can see that it is a small pistil.
"Hey!" Sam says taking a closer look at the gun, "This is the same gun you found, Velma. So that's where it got to." "You lost it?" Fred asks. "No, not exactly." The sheriff replies, "It was just snatched off my desk earlier." Sam's train of thought is interrupted when the sound of a car is heard parking in front of the house. The car door is opened and someone is heard coming to the door.
"I'm sorry, sir," an officer says to the man, "But no unauthorized personal allowed inside."
"I am authorized personal." The man speaks up.
"Oh," the officer replies, "I'm sorry, chief. I didn't recognize you with your dinner clothes on. Uh, please come in."
"Thank-you." The man says as he enters the house.
"Rogers!" Sam greets the old man.
"Hi, Mr. Rogers." The gang greets Shaggy's dad.
"Hey, kids." The chief replies. He then looks around the room and asks, "Where's Shaggy?"
"He's in the Mystery Machine with Norville." Fred replies, "What are you doing here?"
"I got a call over at Blake's house." Chief Inspector Rogers replies, "Something about a murder happening here."
"You got that right." Daphne says.
"Sam!" a voice can be heard coming from the basement steps. Everyone turns to see a young officer holding what appear to be plastic bags.
"What's that you got there, Pat?" the Sheriff asks.
"Remember that call you got yesterday from the blood bank reporting a burglary?" Pat asks.
"Yeah, what about it?" Mr. Rogers asks.
"Well, this may shed some light on what happened to the blood." Pat explains.
"Where did you find that?" Velma asks.
"In the basement near the water main." Is the reply.
"That would explain last night, then." Fred figures.
"Huh?" Sam and Mr. Rogers ask.
"There was blood flowing out of the faucets last night." Velma explains. Daphne displays a face of disgust. "Please don't remind me!" she exclaims.
"And this was last night?" Mr. Rogers asks.
"Yep." Fred replies.
"You know," Velma comments, "the deeper we go into this mystery, the more this ghost seems more fake."
"I think your right, Velma." Daphne says, "Sam, I received a phone call at least an hour ago. Would you be able to trace it?"
"I'll ask some boys to give it a try." Sam replies.
"Sam," Velma says beginning a train of thought, "do you know who Ms. Smith's lawyer is?"
"Not off the top of my head," is the reply, "but I can find out for you."
"Thanks." Velma smiles.
There is silence for a brief moment, which is broken by the officer at the door saying, "Come in, inspector. We've been expecting you." Moments later, a middle-aged man enters the room. He is tall, with a slender built his hair is that of a dark brown and he bares a slight mustache. He is wearing a hunter's hat, blue jeans, and a checkered jacket open slightly at the collar revealing his pajama top. "About time you got here, Quince." Sam greets the inspector. "Yes, well, terribly sorry about that." Quince explains, "But I was staying with some relatives and it took them a while to reach me."
Velma looks over the man and comments, "I see that you left your home in a rush, Inspector Quince." "Why, yes." The inspector responds, "I'm sorry for the way that I'm dressed. I guess that gives it away quite quickly."
"Oh, there's a quicker way than that." Velma says.
"Oh?" Quince asks in surprise, "What's that."
"The fact that you're wearing slippers instead of shoes." Velma points out.
"Oh...Ha ha ha." Inspector Quince blushes. He quickly looks around the room to find a way to change the subject. His eye quickly glance the blood on the floor and he grabs his chance. "What a bloody mess." He comments.
"Yeah," Fred responds, "I suppose you could call it that."
"Oh, Quince, I'm sorry." Sam says to the inspector, "Allow me to introduce you to the notorious Mystery Inc." Pointing out Sam continues, "This is Daphne, Velma and Fred."
"Isn't there another boy and a dog?" Quince asks.
"Yes." Chief Rogers replies, "My son and Scooby. They are in their van."
"Nice to meet you." Fred smiles extending his hand. However, he forgot earlier to wipe the blood off his hand. So, then extending his hand, he reveals it on his palm. Inspector Quince looks at Fred's hand. "OH!" Fred exclaims slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry." He quickly pulls out a Kleenex and is going to wipe it off, but Inspector Quince yells out "Don't! Wait! You'll destroy the evidence!" He instantly puts handcuffs on Freddie's wrists.
"Hey!" Fred cries out, "What's going on?"
"Here is your murderer, Sam." Quince says ignoring Fred's question. "Place him and book him."
"I don't understand!" Fred tries again.
"Caught you red-handed, my boy." Quince explains pointing out Fred's hand.
"But..." Fred protests.
"You have the right to remain silent." The inspector continues. "I must remind you that anything you say, or do can, and will, be used as evidence against you."
"Nock it off, Quince." Sam cuts in, "We happen to know that the murder is a woman. Now how about you take those handcuffs off Fred and get some sleuthing done."
The inspector just grunts and reluctantly removes the handcuffs from Fred.
"Don't mind Quince too much." Mr. Rogers explains as the inspector walks away, "He just likes to solve mysteries the old fashioned way."
"I wouldn't exactly call catching a guy literally red-handed the 'old-fashioned' way." Velma comments producing a roar of laughter from her companions.
"So! Where were you on the night of the murder?" a voice comes from behind them making them jump. They turn around to see Inspector Quince his clothing had changed due to the fact that he had turned his coat inside out, thus making it look like a trench coat and had put on a scarf. "Early Halloween costume, Inspector?" Sam asks.
"Is it just me, or is that Sherlock Holmes?" Fred asks his female companions.
"Neh." Velma replies, "He's too old to be Sherlock. I'd say he's Mycroft."
"Are you kidding?" Daphne blabbers out, "With clothes like that, how can you even make-out what he's dressed as?"
"You have to use your imagination, Daph." Velma replies.
"I think Daphne's got a point there, Velma." Fred chuckles, "With brains like his, it is pretty hard!" He instantly begins to go into full laughter. Velma and Daphne, however, do not find it funny. "FREDDIE!" the both scold.
"Where were you on the night of the murder?" Quince asks again pressing his magnifying glass into the gang's faces.
"Will you please do your job seriously!" Sam yells.
Quince makes a face of disgust and begins to walk around the room viewing everything closely through his glass.
"Is this the best detective on the force?" Fred asks Chief Inspector Rogers.
"He's the only one who is the closest to town." Is the reply.
"Huh?"
"All the rest are on holiday or on another case." Is the explanation.
"Oh.
"Sheriff!" Inspector Quince calls out from an open window, "Come here quick!
"What is it?" Sam asks walking forward.
"There are footprints right out here." Explains Quince.
The sheriff frowns in deep thought. He then turns to the gang. "Was this window open when you guys arrived?" he asks.
"No." is the reply.
"But how could the window be open from the outside?" Daphne thinks aloud.
"Crowbar?" Fred replies.
"No way, Fred." Velma contradicts examining the area, "There are no marks of prying of any kind of tool."
"What does that prove?" Quince demands.
"Simple," Fred explains, "that the window was opened from the inside."
"But how could the murderer have gotten in to begin with?" Mr. Rogers inquires.
"Sarah keeps keys under the doormat." Daphne replies, "They aren't really that hard to find."
"Sarah?" Inspector Quince inquires, "Sarah who?"
"Maclbe." Is the reply.
"Is she the owner of the house?" Quince asks.
"Yes."
"Where is she now?"
"At a hotel."
"Which one?"
The gang just shrugs.
"Like, are you guys coming?" Shaggy asks as he comes in the door, "We're, like, getting tired of waiting out here."
Inspector Quince walks up to Shaggy, looks him squarely in the eye and states, "No one is leaving the facility unless I say so." And with that, he walks off.
Shaggy looks over the inspector's clothes and asks Fred, "Like, who was that man—Inspector Clouseau?"
"Nope." Fred replies, "Inspector Quince."
"Really?" Shaggy jokes, "He looks like he should be in the Pink Panther!" Upon which, he and Fred chuckle lightly.
"Rey, Raggy!" a voice from outside barks.
"Like, what is it Scoob?" Shaggy calls back.
Scooby comes in with little Norville in his arms. "Rorvilles rasleep." He replies. "You see?" Shaggy points out, "We're, like, getting tired."
"For the last and final time," Inspector Quince yells out, "NO ONE IS LEAVING THE BUILDING UNLESS I GIVE THE OKAY!"
Norville stirs a bit. He slowly opens his eyes and looks at the inspector. "Is that, like, Inspector Clouseau?" he asks.
"My name is Quince." The inspector responds.
"If only he had a beard growing," Velma whispers to Daphne, "I'd say he was Freddie the Freeloader." The two girls giggle lightly.
"I suppose you kids would like to leave now, huh?" Mr. Rogers asks.
The gang nods in unison. "You can go ahead and go home now." Sam says, "It is getting late and I suppose you guys would like some time to recover from this trauma."
"Now just see here, Sheriff," Quince objects. However, he is calmed down my Mr. Rogers and eventually gives in. "Okay," the inspector sighs in defeat. He then turns on a more serious note, which sounds more like a threat, "but don't leave town."
"There really is no reason for us to." Fred assures him as he heads out the door. "Like, that may be true for you Fred," Shaggy contradicts, "but, like, certainly not for me."
"Oh?" inquires Fred, "And why is that?"
"Cause', like, there's a killer on the loose!" Shaggy exclaims.
"Reah!" Scooby barks in agreement, "Ri'll ro rith rat!"
"Oh, come on you two." Daphne sighs as she pulls Scooby and Shaggy to the Mystery Machine.
As they are driving off, Shaggy exclaims, "Like, that Quince chap is some character, huh?"
"I'd say!" Fred agrees.
"What do you think, Fred:" Daphne asks, "Does Inspector Quince look more like Freddie the Freeloader or Inspector Clouseau?"
"Are you two girls still doing that thing?" Fred asks.
Velma and Daphne nod.
"Like, why?" Norville inquires.
Velma rests her elbow on the passenger-side door, places her chin in her palm and replies, "We got bored after a while." The girls blush as everyone laughs.
"Like, I sure hope he isn't Clouseau." Shaggy finally says.
"Why is that, Shag?" Fred asks.
"If we, like, get stuck working with him," Shaggy responds, "Things may not be pretty."
"Huh?" everyone asks in unison.
"Like, don't you remember what he did to Chief Inspector Dreyfus?" Shaggy answers.
Everyone laughs as they drive into the night.
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Norville awakes the next morning to find himself in his uncle's room in his bed. He sits up and begins to rub his eyes. "Like, what a night." He says to himself. He quickly jumps out of bed and gets dressed. As he brushes his hair, the door to the room is opened slightly and in jumps Scooby, who jumps on the boy thus messing up his hair again. "Like, morning, Scoob!" Norville exclaims as he scratches the Great Dane between the ears. "Is breakfast ready yet?" Scooby sits up strait and burps, "Rit ras."
"Huh?" Norville asks, "Hey, you, like, ate it all?!"
"Rust Ridding!" Scooby smiles.
The boy chuckles slightly to Scooby's little joke as they both head down to the dinning room.
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"Velma," Mrs. Dinkley calls from the bedroom door, "telephone for you."
Velma stirs slightly and asks sleepily, "Who is it?"
"Sam." Is the reply.
Velma instantly awakes, grabs her glasses off her bedside table and the receiver from the nearby phone. "Morning, Sam!" she greets the caller. "Morning." The sheriff replies, "Velma," he says in a little more serious voice, "I have the name of that lawyer you wanted. Do you have paper and pen ready?" "Just a sec." replies Velma. She quickly grabs a pencil and notepad off the table. "Ready." She finally says. "Okay." Sam begins, "Mr. Jonathan H. Parker." Velma quickly writes it down. "Do you also have the address?" she asks. Sam quickly shuffles a few papers around then responds, "Suit 853 Walkerson Towers, 28937 Main Street, Sandusky."
"It's out of town?"
"Yes," is the reply, "it appears that she once lived there."
Velma finally says, "Thanks a lot, Sam."
"My pleasure." The man replies and hangs up.
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"Daphne?" Mrs. Blake's voice calls in her daughter's bedroom. "Honey?" she calls again. A groan echoes throughout the room. Mrs. Blake looks in the direction of Daphne's bed. Daphne is still in it with the covers pulled over her head. "Daphne, come on." Her mother urges, "Breakfast is ready and getting cold."
"I'm not hungry." Daphne groans in a sleepy voice turning away from her mother.
"Darling, you must eat something." Mrs. Blake tries again.
"Mom." Daphne snaps kicking the covers off, "After what I saw last night, my stomach just went on a vacation."
"I can understand that." Her mother says approaching her daughter, "But surly, you must eat something."
Daphne rolls on her back and stares at the ceiling for a while. Her stomach begins to growl. She gives a slight grin. "Maybe I am a bit hungry." she finally gives in.
"That's a good girl." Applauds Mrs. Blake. She picks up Daphne's robe off the foot of the bed and hands it to her daughter as they both head downstairs.
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"Uncle Shag," Norville asks his uncle at the breakfast table.
"Hmm?" Shaggy answers between gulps.
"You said something last night," the boy starts, "about you having a feeling that something was going to happen. How did you, like, know?"
Shaggy sips down some of his milk then replies "Have you, like, ever heard of something called 'listening to your gut'?"
"Yeah." Answers Norville, "but I don't, like, exactly know what it means."
Shaggy sits up and grins slightly, "It's when something inside of you tells you something."
"Like what?" his nephew asks.
"It can be all sorts of things." Is the reply, "Usually it is something of the, like, up most importance."
Norville ponders on this for a while, but his train of thought is interrupted by the sound of his stomach rumbling. The boy looks at his uncle and chuckles, "Like, I think my gut is yelling out to me something."
"Oh?" Shaggy asks looking up, "And, like, what exactly is that?"
"I'm, like, hungry!" Norville replies, "Pass me some of that toast!"
A few moments later, the phone rings throughout the household. Mr. Rogers walks to the hall phone and answers it. "Hello?" he greets the caller, "Oh, good morning, Freddie!...Yes, he's here...All right, just a moment." The man puts the phone down and approaches the dinning room. "Shaggy," he says, "it's Fred. He wants to talk to you." Shaggy quickly excuses himself and runs to answer the phone. "Like, hi, Fred!" He calls joyfully, "Like, sure, I'll be ready...Like, see ya later." And hangs up. Upon returning to the table, Shaggy is asked, "What did Freddie want?" He quickly finishes his meal and replies, "He just wanted to know if I was, like, ready. He'll be picking me up shortly." Moments later, the sound of the Mystery Machine can be heard stopping right out side the Rogers residence. Shaggy quickly arises from the table and grabs his coat. Scooby quickly follows his master to the door. "We'll, like, see you later." Shaggy calls out.
"Morning!" Shaggy cheers as he and Scooby enter the van.
"Did you two sleep well?" Daphne, who Fred had picked up just earlier, inquires in an attempt in engage into pleasant conversation.
"Like, I suppose you could put it that way." Shaggy responds as Fred drives off, "Right, Scoob?"
The Great Dane just yawns, "Ruh-huh." stretching his back and laying down comfortably on the floor.
"Like, where are we going?" Shaggy asks.
"Velma's." replies Fred, "She called me earlier saying something about a little trip for Daph and me."
"Oh."
Moments later, Fred pulls the Mystery Machine up in Velma's driveway. Velma instantly walks out to greet them. "Hey, Dumpster!" Freddie teases playfully. Ever since he gave her that nickname, Velmster, the rest of the gang had been playfully joking that it sounded more like 'dumpster'—especially if one mispronounces it. Velma had long since been used to the mispronouncing of her name. Just recently, someone had mispronounced 'Dinkley' and addressed her as 'Ms. Dinky'.
"Morning, Fred." Velma smiles back.
"So," Freddie asks turning onto a serious note, "What's this little journey you have for Daph and me?" Velma hands him a piece of paper. Fred looks at it. "That is the name and address of Ms. Smith's lawyer." Velma explains. "It's in Sandusky!" Fred exclaims. "You have a problem with that?" inquires Velma.
"It's more than an hour's drive." The blond replies.
"Three hours to be exact." He is corrected.
"The drive will take nearly half a day!" Daphne jumps in, "And car trips like that totally kill my hair!"
Velma just rolls her eyes, "Honestly Daph, just for once, can you not worry about your hair?"
"Are you kidding?!" the red head exclaims.
"Like, cool it, Daph." Shaggy says in and attempt to calm the girl down.
"But, why can't you go?" Fred asks Velma.
"I some things to attend to here." The brunette replies, "Anyway, Daphne has a way of dealing with lawyers, which is what we are in desperate need of."
"Huh?" Shaggy asks.
"Of coarse!" Fred smiles, "They can't read the will until after the funeral."
"Exactly!" Velma conforms, "Daphne, was Sam able to trace that call?" "Yes." The other girl replies, "I have it written down somewhere." She begins to rummage through her purse and pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Velma. "Besides, Fred" Velma continues, "this leaves you to six full hours alone—just you and Daphne."
Upon hearing this, the blond man's bright blue eyes fully open and a smile grows on his face. Velma notices this as well as Scooby and Shaggy as they exit the van. Fred looks at Daphne and turns to Velma and declares, "We'll see you in six hours." And pulls out of the driveway.
"Like, I don't know about you," Shaggy says as he and Scooby enter Velma's car, "but, like, I didn't like the smile on Fred's face as he left." "If you're thinking about that 's' word," Velma responds placing her laptop next to her seat, "you can forget about it. Fred's not the sort of person to do that." She pauses for a moment. "Then again..." She ponders. She looks at Shaggy and he looks at her. "Neh." They conclude.
"How's Norville doing?" Velma asks.
"He's still, like, feeling a little sick in his stomach." Shaggy replies.
"Poor kid." Velma sympathizes.
"Like, where are we going?" Shaggy asks as Velma pulls out.
"Sarah's house." Is the reply resulting in a low whimper from Scooby. "Like, no way!" yells Shaggy.
"Why?"
"'Cause there's, like, a killer on the loose!" answers Shaggy and Scooby nods in agreement. "Like, I tried to tell Fred." Shaggy continues, "Trust me' he said and this is what happened. Who does he think he is—Indiana Jones?"
"The surname does fit him perfectly." Velma chuckles.
"Are you trying to be funny?" Shaggy asks struggling to sound serious, however, he is not very good at it for moments later a broad smile unfolds on his face.
A few moments later, Velma pulls into Sarah's driveway.
"Are you two coming?" She asks as she exits the vehicle.
"Yeah." Replies Shaggy, "But, like, just for a moment. I, like, want to see if that lasagna is still there."
"Reah!" Scooby barks jumping out of the car.
"I had forgotten about that." Velma says as they enter the house. There is still blood on the floor from where Susie was shot down the previous night.
"So, like, what are we doing here?" Shaggy finally asks.
Velma turns to him and holds up the photograph of Sarah's family. "I'm just retuning this to the photo album." She replies, "There is no real need for it since I scanned it into my computer last night."
"Rey, Raggy!" Scooby barks from the kitchen, "rhe rasagna's rill rere!"
Shaggy just laughs, "Looks like Clouseau didn't go through this place with a fine-tooth comb!"
"Is that your new nick-name for Inspector Quince?" inquires Velma.
"Actually, it's Lil' Shag's." Shaggy responds as Velma chuckles lightly as she heads off to the den.
As Velma places the picture back into the album, she can hear what appears to be a fight in the kitchen. "Must be Scooby and Shaggy fighting over something." She thinks to herself. A moment later, footsteps are heard entering the room. However, she thinks nothing of it figuring that it maybe Shaggy coming down.
"What are you doing here?" A voice comes from the bottom of the stairs. Velma, not recognizing the voice, spins around to find a tall slender woman in her early thirties, hands on her hips, looking straight at her.
"Returning a photo." Velma replies in a shaky voice.
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A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, but I was having computer problems. Hopfully, I'll update the next chapter sooner. Keep on reviewing!