Chapter 2: The meeting and an offer

When Fred entered the assistant director's office, he was startled to find her accompanied by a man he recognized.

"Special Agent Jones." The assistant director spoke and gestured towards the chair in front of her desk, right beside the one already taken by the man she was speaking with before summoning him. "Please, take a seat."

Fred closed the door behind him before taking the vacant chair next to the man, his eyes darting between him and the assistant director.

Once Fred was seated, the assistant director took the lead. "Special Agent Fred Jones, Mr. Deacon Carswell of Carswell Investments. I believe you both have met before."

"We had." Carswell nodded as he turned towards Fred and extended his hand. "A long while ago."

Despite the offered hand in front of him, Fred didn't take it as his mind briefly replayed how he came to cross paths with Mr. Carswell in the first place. He and the gang.

Deacon Carswell was a one-time client turned sponsor of their show. As in the "one-time client turned sponsor who used his resources to get the gang's show on track for three seasons", "the one-time client turned sponsor who was instrumental in the gang doing crossovers with their contemporaries", the "one-time client turned sponsor who was instrumental in bringing forward the Anunnaki to audiences in the form of a multi-crossover event for Season 2", and the "one-time client turned sponsor who pushed aggressively for the show's renewal for a fourth and fifth season."

However, Carswell's role in bringing in the big bucks and name-recognition for the gang also went hand-in-hand with him being the "one-time client turned sponsor who needlessly used the sponsorship of the gang's show to bombard audiences with advertisements promoting Carswell Investment's products and services", the "one-time client turned sponsor who practically milked off of the gang's fame and likenesses by insisting on Daphne and Velma going with dresses or skirts irrespective of the practicality", the "one-time client turned sponsor who pushed for having aspects of the gang's private lives adapted on screen for the seasons three, four, and five story arcs as a bid to save the show's ratings, over the objections from Velma in particular", and the "one-time client turned sponsor who pulled the plug on the spinoffs featuring the gang's contemporaries by weighing in on a rather-out of character depiction of the Funky Phantom".

Throughout the show's run, the gang has always been convinced that Carswell was sheerly opportunistic as far as businesspeople comes. There was sneaking suspicion that he was sabotaging the show's storyline production by having it peak prematurely with the multi-crossover event pushed onto Season 2 rather than Season 3 as was originally envisioned.

It was with that in mind that Fred simply said, "It's been a long while indeed, Mr. Carswell."

If the assistant director didn't quite approve of Fred's aloofness towards Mr. Carswell, she didn't show it as she said, "Mr. Carswell has come by today, Special Agent Jones, because of some implications in one of your early cases."

"One that is very personal and close to my heart." Carswell added.

Fred closed his eyes momentarily before he opened them and turned towards the banker and asked, "Your daughter Alice?"

When Carswell nodded, Fred exhaled. "What about her?"

Carswell and the assistant director exchanged looks briefly before the latter said, "I have been informed by the BOP that Alice Carswell has went missing after she failed to turn up in a late afternoon rollcall before dinner."

There was that constrained frostiness in the assistant director's voice that Fred remembered from a briefing made a couple months back, in the aftermath of a school mass shooting in Florida almost three months prior, which detailed the investigations into the breach of protocol in following-up on a tip that could've potentially averted the tragic school shooting. He did not like where the conversation was heading.

"Missing?" Fred repeated.

"The facility was placed under lockdown after her disappearance was discovered and the rooms searched." The assistant director explained. "The BOP eventually established her escape route out of the facility."

"Has the USMS been notified of her escape?" Fred asked, referring to the Marshal Services.

"Yes, marshals are currently on the hunt for her trail." The assistant director replied.

Fred nodded. "And where do I come into this?"

"As you've remembered, Alice has been serving a federal sentence for kidnapping, extortion, assault, human trafficking, and attempted murder." Mr. Carswell explained. "And I've been visiting her to the prison since she was sentenced, and I'm still at my wits end trying to figure out why she did what she did…those poor lads…"

The banker took a moment to compose himself and gather his thoughts, then he continued, "Alice has been going a rough patch ever since her mother died, and you kids were kind enough to offer her support, yet that didn't seem to suffice in conquering her demons, so to speak, as I wasn't really in her life much…"

"What exactly do you need from me, Mr. Carswell?" Fred spoke. It was Carswell's strategy of eliciting sympathy and interest when he wanted a favour done.

"Not just you, Special Agent Jones." Carswell spoke. "Your whole team as well."

"Obviously you can count on us trying to figure out Alice's next moves, Mr. Carswell. Afterall, our Fugitive Task Force is very skilled at assisting the Marshal Services in apprehending people like Alice…" Fred spoke, only for the assistant director to shake her head.

"He isn't referring to the team here at the bureau, Special Agent Jones." The ADIC spoke, prompting Fred to turn towards her in confusion.

"What do you mean by that, ma'am, surely Special Agent Lecroix's team is very capable of…?" Fred began, only to trail off as the looks in both Carswell and the assistant director's faces made him realize who the banker was referring to.

As it dawned on Fred, he only managed the word, "Oh."

There was silence in the assistant director's office as Fred gathered his thoughts. The gang has not been together for almost a decade now, no doubt there was still the gulf between them on account of the circumstances leading to their dissolution all those years ago.

While they have been keeping in touch with each other since the breakup, not one of them expressed any interest in going back to mystery-solving, especially Velma, the brains of the group, and Fred frowned as he recalled Velma's words from her memoir on why the gang went their separate ways. In it, she explicitly laid the blame squarely on the feet of Deacon Carswell's meddling in their show and work in his role as the show's primary sponsor.

Fred drew in a breath as he leaned back on his seat, then looking squarely at Carswell, he said, "For me, it's no problem if you need me to track Alice down before she can hurt herself or others. But for the rest of the gang…good luck trying to convince them to get back to the mystery-solving business, especially as one of them parted ways from us with…some choice words about the show's primary sponsor."

Notwithstanding Fred's rejection on the gang's behalf, Carswell was nothing but a banking executive with his teeth in the entertainment industry. He swiftly cut to the chase. "$25,000 apiece just for trying, another $15,000 each if you bring Alice back unharmed."

"Why not simply let the Marshals handle it?"

"I don't need a public spectacle over Alice's escape and capture should the Marshals capture her." Carswell spoke. "I need the actual folks…the ones that know her best, the ones who know what they're doing…to get this done."

Fred's frown deepened. "You can stop playing that card, Mr. Carswell."

"Okay, here it is straight out, no bullshit." Carswell pivoted. "$25,000 each just for everyone to gather back together, signing NDAs and hearing what this is all about, full scope, guaranteed. $10,000 more each if you take the case, and then $15,000 more each if you bring Alice back unharmed. Oh, and all of that does not include the expenses for you to bring your crew together, expenses which will be covered separately."

Fred briefly glanced at the assistant director before he said, "So this discussion will not leave this office, nor would it leave the gang."

"No, this will be one with Confidential-level security clearance on a need-to-know basis." The assistant director confirmed.

Fred nodded slowly. There was a part of him that doesn't trust what Mr. Carswell has to say, and he was certain the same thing can apply for the rest of the gang. He got up from his seat.

"I'll have to discuss this with the gang, I will let you know by tomorrow afternoon." Fred said.

"You will have to let me know by tomorrow morning; twelve hours is too long for me, and who knows what will happen to Alice during that time..." Carswell began, only for Fred to cut in.

"Mr. Carswell, I will need more than twelve hours, and I am not asking." Fred said, his voice filled with constrained anger. "Because you are asking me to reach out to people who I haven't brought up mystery-solving with for a decade, people who has some rather choice words on the circumstances behind the show's implosion all those years ago, people who would be lining up to give you a piece of their minds, to put it politely, and chances are whatever they have to say isn't-"

"Special Agent Jones…" Carswell trailed off before he added, "…please."

Fred exhaled as he exchanged glances with the assistant director, then he paced around the office briefly. Finally, he turned towards Carswell and said, "I will reach out to the gang and talk this over, then I will let you know as soon as possible, ideally tomorrow morning as you prefer."

Carswell got up from his seat. "Thank you very much, Special Agent Jones. That's all I can ask."

After Carswell took his leave with a security escort, Fred exhaled as he turned towards the assistant director, who beckoned him to close the door and sit back down.

"Fred, are you alright?" The assistant director asked.

Fred exhaled again. "To tell you the truth, ma'am, I don't know. I mean, with all this talk about Alice Carswell…the gang and I went to high school with her together when it happened…and to this day I still don't understand what possessed her to get involved in this trafficking ring in selling off boys she drugged and kidnapped for slave labour, and this is the same Alice that I once went out on a date on, where things didn't work out but nothing happened to me in particular."

"Yes, it still amazes just what the human mind is capable of." The ADIC nodded. "But it's not just the discussion about Alice Carswell I'm talking about."

"Right." Fred nodded. "The gang and I have known Mr. Carswell since we helped him take out an embezzlement scheme at his company, and he was all too happy to repay the favour…but his involvement in our show still left a bitter taste in our mouths to this day."

The blonde shook his head. "Poor Velma, for all I know, Carswell was the very reason for her calling it quits ten years ago, not sure what Shaggy, Scooby, and Daphne think, though I can't imagine them having a positive impression of him."

"Do you think his pleas were sincere?" The ADIC asked.

"To be honest, ma'am, I don't know." Fred replied. "I mean, if Daphne Blake was here, she would've picked up on how he said please and thank you in the same conversation, something he's never done in the past when we interacted with him."

The assistant director nodded thoughtfully. "In any way, Fred, let me know what your decision is so I can put you out of the rotation."

"When the gang and I make our decision, ma'am, you will be the first to know." Fred nodded as he got up from his seat and headed for the door.


When Fred got back to his apartment, his mind was still replaying the conversation in the assistant director's office. After he put down the groceries on the kitchen counter, he took out his personal phone and scrolled through his list of contacts.

At the top of the list were the gang, Shaggy, Scooby, Velma, and Daphne. He sighed as he stared at their names on the screen, then his eyes darted towards a framed photo on the wall.

It was that of the gang many years ago near the Grand Canyon, all smiles. Given the number of cases he had worked since joining the bureau, it took him considerable time to recall the exact circumstances behind the photo.

His eyes first settled on Shaggy, then Scooby, then Velma, and finally to Daphne. He sighed at the sight of Daphne in the photo as he remembered how the mere sight of her used to fill his stomach with butterflies early on. Of course, that was before he eventually mustered up the courage to ask her out in high school, which cumulated into them moving into her downtown penthouse condo for university, only for him to move out two years later when things really started drifted apart between them.

The flame extinguished, he and Daphne remained on good terms as friends, and even though the gang went their separate ways, he still regularly chatted with her, although the topic of going out again or mystery-solving was never brought up. He didn't mind it, he and Daphne were just different, and given how much work has been occupying her as of late, he had no reason to expect anything to change between her and him.

Thinking back on those times he has with Daphne, Fred sighed as he decided to call her first. Seeing that it was almost 20:30, he figured she would be finished supper by now and promptly tapped on her name.

The line only rang once before Daphne answered, "Hi Fred."

"Hey Daph, how was work?" Fred asked.

"It was well, busy as usual." Daphne replied. "You?"

"It was the usual, up until the end of the day." Fred spoke and sighed. "You won't believe what happened, and, um, it's kinda the reason I'm calling."

"What happened?" Daphne asked.

Fred took a moment to compose himself and then he replied, "Two words, Daphne."

Holding up two fingers as if Daphne could see them, he continued, "Deacon Carswell."

There was a pregnant pause and Fred bided his time. Finally, Daphne spoke, "That's the first time I've heard that jackass' name in a dog's year, what the blazes does he want now?"

"It's about his daughter Alice, she's escaped from federal prison earlier this late afternoon." Fred spoke.

Daphne was silent, and the blonde spent the next few minutes recounting his conversation with Carswell.

"You're right, Fred, that is unusual." Daphne said after he finished. "It's not usual for him to put please and thank you in the same conversation. However, as I wasn't party to that conversation, I can't tell for certain whether that please was genuine, I will have to have that conversation with him myself."

"And what are your thoughts on the $50.000 he's offered to each of us to help bring Alice back unharmed?" Fred asked.

"I think we're going to need to get the gang back together and discuss this together in detail among ourselves." Daphne spoke.

"Exactly what I was thinking." Fred nodded. "How soon can you catch a flight here?"

"Among the perks of being a Senior Accounting Manager at Corporate means I can arrange for a private flight to any destination on short notice." Daphne replied. "Though if I were you, I'll call Velma first and have her call me so I can arrange for the private flight to bring us down to LA first thing tomorrow morning at once."

Fred nodded again. "I knew I can always count on you, Daph. Thanks!"

After Fred hung up, his eyes next settled on Velma's name, and he briefly paused as he studied her number. They have kept in correspondence irregularly over the past decade, in most cases said correspondence came in the form of birthday messages. Even so, knowing the circumstances surrounding Velma's decision to quit the gang, never once did Fred brought up solving mysteries in any of his correspondence with her.

He was certain that Velma wouldn't like what he had to say, but it was a call he had to make. With that in mind, he inhaled before tapping the call button on her contact details.


Velma sighed as she went through all the receipts in her office in the bookstore. It was closed for the day and after sending Winsor home, she was in the office alone, trying to get the sales tax return filed. The room reeked of the smell of takeout Chinese she ordered on her way to the bookstore from the university.

Barring her clicking on the mouse and typing, the silence in the office was deafening. Too deafening to her liking. She thought about turning on the radio, which was tuned into a station that would be playing some light classical music at this hour, but then she remembered that she has yet to replace the radio after it broke a couple weeks ago and in between her work at the university, her doctorate studies and research, and the bookstore, she just hasn't found the time to get it replaced.

Her eyes were already exhausted from her staring at the computer screen all day at the university lab, and she remembered that she didn't get much sleep the night prior.

Momentarily rubbing her eyes and taking a break from the tax filing, Velma got up and went to the washroom to wash her face. As she was about to splash her face with cold water, she paused as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"Oh, you gotta love those hags at the bottom of my eyes." Velma muttered. "Don't suppose some catchup on my sleep is in order."

Her minute of quiet solitude was shattered when her cellphone rang, and she sighed as she hurried back to the office and picked up the phone.

It was Fred Jones, and she frowned before she answered it. "Hello, Fred."

"Hi Velma, how have you been?" Fred asked.

"I am well, Fred, thanks." Velma replied. "What about you?"

Fred hesitated briefly. "I'm well, Velma, though I'm afraid I'm gonna have to put a pause on whatever it is you're doing right now, for we have a mystery."

Velma merely blinked. "Thought I told you I'm done with mysteries, Fred."

"You did, but this one pays." Fred quickly said.

Velma paused. "Guess that means I'm slightly less done with mysteries."

"If we crack this one, each one of us receives a fee of $50,000." Fred continued.

Velma rubbed her chin. "Very intriguing, Fred. What's the catch?"

There was a pregnant pause from Fred's end, then he quickly said, "Two words, Velma: Deacon Carswell."

Another pregnant pause went by before Velma said, "Best of luck solving it with the bureau, it's supposed to be your job anyways."

With that, Velma hung up, leaving Fred to stare at the phone in his hand.

After hanging up the phone, Velma exhaled as she digested the brief conversation with Fred. $50,000 certainly goes a long way in between the lease for the bookstore, utilities, and the rent for her upstairs apartment. And even if she were to not renew her contract at the university for the next academic year, she'd still have a little nest left for a rainy day.

The phone rang again, and Velma nearly scoffed at Fred's name before picking it up.

"What part of this being your job did you not understand, Fred?" Velma asked.

Despite her statement, Velma knew that she was going to cave in. Even so, she was going to make sure she has every leverage she needs in the event she wants out.

"Velma, at least come by my place down in LA so we can discuss this in full detail." Fred spoke. "I've spoken with Daphne earlier, and she offered to give you a lift on the private flight she is arranging."

"I see."

"Would you be able to make plans to fly down to LA first thing tomorrow morning, Velma?"

It was Velma's turn to create the pause, and she milked it for a while before she replied, "I suppose."

"Great, we'll see you then."

After she put the phone down, she went back to her sales tax return and was going through the revenue. While the bookstore has made windfall from the promotion of newly published novels, it was barely enough for the business to break even. Adding to the fact that there hasn't been much customer traffic as of late, she did the math in her head. Two more months like this, then the bookstore would have to close, and with it her major income stream.

$50,000 was a solid temptation with Deacon and Alice Carswell as the two-headed serpent.

With that in mind, she promptly picked up the phone and gave Daphne a call.


Despite Shaggy's plans to catch up on some much-needed sleep, as the clock reached quarter after 11, he was still wide awake. For some inexplicit reason, even though his mind was tired from reading all those numbers in the office all day, it was as if the mind suddenly became jolted as soon as his head hit the pillow.

And that's why when his phone rang in the living room, Shaggy was swift in getting up and headed straight over. Though he was still wide awake, the fog in his mind from the darkness meant he came close to tripping over Scooby, who had perked up.

"Rho re rell could re calling rat ris runrodly rour?" Scooby asked.

"I guess we're about to find out, Scoob." Shaggy replied as he turned on the living room lights and scooped up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Shag, hope I didn't wake you and Scooby up." Fred said. He had forgotten that they are three hours ahead of him.

"We're in bed right now but still wide awake, Fred." Shaggy replied. "What's up?"

"I'm not sure if you guys are still up for it, but we've got a new one guys, and I would like you over at my place in LA so we can discuss it in detail and see if you're interested." Fred spoke.

"New one, as in mystery, Fred?" Shaggy asked.

"Yes, and it pays."

"How much?"

"$25,000 minimum each up to $50,000, each."

Shaggy whistled as he exchanged looks with Scooby. With the restaurants doing well, it's not like he and Scooby needed the money urgently. However, as he was still paying off his student loans from college and the fact that their Ottawa location has only started seeing black five months prior, it was money that could come in handy for a rainy day.

"What's the catch?" Shaggy asked.

Fred sighed. "Three words, Shag: Find Alice Carswell."

Dead silence from Shaggy's end as he and Scooby exchanged looks with one another, then the latter quipped, "Rhat's re first rime rin a rong while I've reard rhat ritch's rame, rhat's she rotten herself rinto, Red?"

"Apparently, she's escaped from federal prison this late afternoon and her dad's gone apeshit hoping that we will band together to find her and bring her back unharmed." Fred explained.

Shaggy and Scooby were silent as Fred recounted the conversation he had with Carswell earlier.

"Are the girls going to be there?" Shaggy finally asked.

"Yes, I've spoken with both Velma and Daphne, they've both agreed to come over to discuss it in greater detail."

Shaggy and Scooby both nodded.

"Rokay, ruess that means re'll re rere too." Scooby piped up.

"Excellent." Fred said. "How soon can you guys get here?"

"Well, one of the perks of being recognizable owners of a successful restaurant chain is that we can book a train trip or a commercial flight in short notice, Fred." Shaggy said. "Though accounting for a transfer at Toronto, Scoob and I would have to rush pack and head straight to the airport for the first flight from Toronto in the early morning."

"Good, I'll see you guys there." Fred nodded.


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