Hey, everyone! I'm sorry that this story isn't that great. I'm so sleep-deprived I can hardly think but every time I shut my eyes I have these totally bizarre nightmares that make me feel more tired than I was before. So what am I doing when I can't force myself to fall asleep? Writing this story! Okay, now I know you didn't decide to read this so I could tell you about my lack of sleep and coherency so on with the story!

Chapter 3 The Two Suspects

"Freddy," Daphne said quietly. "What was that creepy voice?"

"I don't know," he replied, "but we're going to find out."

"No, you're not," O'Connor snapped. "If this...ghost, or whatever the hell that was, wants us to leave, then that's exactly what we're going to do." He turned and shouted to his men, "Come on, boys, we're getting out of here before we end up like Marks."

"What about the body?" someone asked.

O'Connor thought for a moment. "We'll take it with us."

Henry, who had managed to break into the house, now came out, looking flustered. "That's going to be kind of difficult considering Marks is gone," he said to O'Connor.

"James, I don't have time for your stupid little practical jokes right now," spat the detective, looking as if he were considering shooting the psychic right there.

"Billy, this is no joke. There's no body."

"Someone must've stolen it," Fred thought aloud, causing the full attention of the two men to be focused on him.

"You kids were the last ones with Marks' body," O'Connor stated, glaring at them suspiciously. "You could have been the ones that stole it!" He looked around and spotted a new-looking officer. "McGee," he shouted to the man. "Search that van!" he commanded, pointing at the Mystery Machine.

"Hey!" Fred yelled. "We didn't do anything. You can't just search through our stuff."

O'Connor took a few steps toward the now-frightened blonde boy. "Oh, yeah," he said in a low hiss. "Well if you didn't do it, then who did?"

Daphne stepped up, pushing Fred aside. "Give us some time and we'll figure out."

The detective chuckled bitterly. "You think you kids can solve this case without the help of the police?"

"I think they can," Henry piped up. "I mean, look at all the cases I've solved without your help." He smiled kindly, making O'Connor furious enough to stomp away. Henry then directed his attention to the group of teenagers before him. "Alright, guys, do you honestly think you'll be able to figure out what happened? I can't do much as long as O'Connor is too scared to keep investigating here, but maybe you'll be able to dig up something," he told them. "Here's a key to the house." He handed them a small, worn key. "That'll give you access to everything and since the police are basically abandoning this place, no one should disturb you while you work. Good luck!"

Henry trotted off so quickly that the gang didn't have time to protest. After all, they were just kids. What could they do that the police couldn't? But then Shaggy said something that was so motivational and inspirational that no one would have ever guessed that it was truly coming from the mouth of this hungry coward.

"Isn't this what we signed up for?" he asked. "We wanted to solve mysteries and, like, help people out. Well, this is a mystery and we'd be helping the police. I know this may seem like a lot to handle, but we're, like, Mystery, Inc. We catch bad guys and get in loads of trouble. That's what we do, and it's tough and scary, but we do it well. We, like, shouldn't stop now. I say we go inside that totally creepy old mansion with a dead guy hiding in it and solve us a mystery!"

A few hours later the group slowly and quietly stepped out of the Mystery Machine where they had been hiding, waiting for the last few police officers to leave the scene. Fred took the key that Henry had given them out of his pocket and inserted it in the lock. Seconds later Mystery, Inc. found themselves inside Mr. Marks' home, trying to figure out what the heck had been going on.

"What do we know so far?" Fred asked nervously, for he was overcome with the feeling that someone was watching them.

"Well, we know that Marks was murdered, using the doughnut that Velma found to disguise the poison," Daphne said.

"And that there's some seriously creepy mumbo jumbo going on in this place," Shaggy commented.

"Reah, reepy r'voice." Scooby shivered at the mere memory of the creepy voice.

"And we know that whoever was trying to scare us all away was also the one that stole Marks' body," Velma added, staring off into the distance as if she were remembering something. "Oh, I almost forgot, we know that Stephen Marks was here!"

"Yeah, and he didn't seem to upset about his father dying," Fred said suspiciously.

Velma smiled. They had their first suspect. "Stephen and Mr. Marks were estranged. They had been for years," she informed her friends. "The last time I say Mr. Marks he told me all about it. Also, there was something going on with his will. I think he was changing it so that, after his death, Stephen would no longer be the sole benificiary."

"That gives Stephen motive," Fred mused.

"Hey!" an unfriendly voice barked. "What do you think you're doing here?"

The gang turned around to see a man in his fifties, wearing a worn cap and overalls covered in mud. He was holding a shovel and there was fresh dirt coating his shoes.

"We were just trying to figure out what was happening here," Velma explained. She now remembered seeing this man lurking around in the shadows as the police were investigating earlier.

"Well that's none of your business," the man replied, indicating that he would like them to leave. "I'm Jeff Parker, the caretaker of this place. Mr. Marks was my boss and he didn't like intruders so I would appreciate it if you all would be on your way now." He gestured to the exit.

"Before we go," Daphne said as the others began walking toward the door, "would you mind telling us what you know about Mr. Marks' will?"

Parker sighed. "There was a lot of tension between Marks and his son over that stupid piece of paper. Marks was my best friend. That's why he hired me to work here: I really needed the money to pay off some old debts. After a few months he told me that he had planned to leave his estate and money to me, thus cutting Stephen out of it entirely. It wasn't like the two of them really got along well to begin with, but after he heard about that, Marks' son kept coming over here, demanding that his father change the will. Marks told him to leave and never come back." He looked back at each of the kids. "Now, that's the end of that story, so you should all be on your way."

"Err, right," Fred said. Everyone was leaving, except for Daphne who was standing there, looking suspiciously at Parker. Fred quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her outside, his heart beating furiously either from being so close to her or from the creepy, sinister look that had been on Parker's face the whole time. As soon as everyone was safely back in the van, Fred told them all what he had been thinking. "Did you guys hear all of that?" he asked. "If Parker really was the one who would get everything after Marks died, that gives him clear motive to kill him."

"Plus," Velma added, "he did say that he had 'old debts' that needed to be paid off. Sounds pretty shady to me."

Everyone seemed pleased that they basically had this case solved when Daphne moaned. "This doesn't help," she said sadly.

"What do you mean?" Fred asked curiously. "Isn't having a suspect a good thing?"

"Well, it would be if there were just one suspect," she replied. "But we have two: Stephen Marks and Jeff Parker. Both of them could easily be the murderer."

"So that leaves one question," Velma said.

Fred sighed. "Yeah, which one of them really did it?"