Chapter 02

Uncle Stuart didn't move too well and couldn't handle the uneven route through the cemetery. So, Fred ran back to retrieve the car and bring it to the Kingston Mansion to pick up Sharon, Uncle Stuart, Daphne, and me. Shaggy and Scooby were bribed with more Scooby Snax to make their way back on foot. They took the road rather than returning through the cemetery and Shaggy came back with his brief foray into sobriety at an end.

Sharon took us into the Weatherby Mansion when we got back and we were met by Mr. Weatherby for the first time.

He ignored us and looked at his brother. "Stuart, is that you?"

Stuart, who had been barely able to walk a moment before, bolted across the brightly lit entry hall and into the relative darkness of a parlor off to the left. He proceeded through until finally alighting in an overstuffed chair in the darkest corner of the room.

We followed him in, led by Sharon's father who opened the questioning. "What happened Stuart?"

Stuart propped his right elbow on the arm of the chair and wearily rested his chin in his hand. "It started when a ghostly voice called out from the old mansion. I had to obey it. It drew me out of the house. I was in a trance. I went past the Kingston Mausoleum and, finally, into the old mansion.

"And there is where I saw the ghost of Elias Kingston! He spoke to me. The Weatherby fortune belongs to me. Unless it is returned to me. Unless it is returned to this mansion before morning, the entire family shall suffer this terrible fate.

"That's when he made me an old man. As a warning to you all."

Sharon spoke up. "What are we going to do?"

I glanced over to see if there was any hint that she was kidding but she seemed stone cold serious. Again, not the brightest bulb in the forest.

Her father pulled a phone from his pocket. "First of all, I'm going to call the Sheriff." He looked down at the phone. "That's strange… no bars."

The 'who' in this mystery was already obvious. But we needed to have some time for a group discussion among the Gang to figure out the next steps.

"Why don't you go get the Sheriff, Mr. Weatherby? We'll wait here." I volunteered.

Fred was keeping up. "We'll keep an eye on Uncle Stuart until you get back."

Mr. Weatherby looked over us 'incompetent teenagers' that an hour earlier he refused to even speak with. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

Fred was now the spokesperson for us all. "No problem."

"Okay. It shouldn't take me any more than a couple of hours. You stay in the house and…" he dropped his voice so only Fred, Daphne, and I could hear… "keep a close eye on Stuart."

After that, it took him a couple of minutes to gather his coat and keys and he was gone.

Daphne turned on the beamer smile. "Sharon, darling, I'm afraid that we came straight here from another mystery and haven't had a chance to eat all day. Might there be a little something in the kitchen that you could rustle up?"

"Oh!" Sharon appeared abashed. "I'm so sorry. I should have offered you something when you first got here. I'll make some sandwiches."

She headed toward the door.

"Sandwiches?" Shaggy was on full alert now. "I'll help." He made a move to follow her out.

Daphne grabbed him by the back of his collar, almost pulling him to the ground. "I'm sure that Sharon is a whiz in the kitchen and won't need any help from you."

Sharon turned and looked back at Shaggy with an expression I didn't recognize. But, for some reason, it made me angry. That was illogical, so I put it aside.

When we were alone with Stuart, Fred beckoned us to step out into the entry hall which was far enough away from Stuart that we could speak without being overheard but also had a direct line of sight to where he remained seated in the chair.

Fred got us started. "Everybody is seeing the make-up, right?"

Daphne scoffed. "Of course. I could do better in grade school. The cheapest of theatrical oils."

"I guess he only thought he would have to fool Sharon—which isn't challenging."

Daphne tsk-tsked me. "Be nice, Velma."

"I thought I was."

Shaggy chimed in. "Why don't we just pull the mask off of him right now and be done with this? Then we could focus on eating."

Fred and Daphne turned to me. "Because he hasn't done anything that couldn't be explained away as a harmless prank. As a matter of fact, the poor make-up job would only reinforce a claim that he was just having some fun with his relatives. We have to trap him into doing something that is actually illegal."

Fred perked up. "Trap! I'm liking the sound of that!"

Sharon returned from the kitchen with a silver tray filled with crudely-made sandwiches—half of them peanut-butter-and-jelly and the other half cheese and mayonnaise. It looked like something a small child would make for their mother on Mother's Day.

Sharon smiled proudly. "I made the sandwiches! I hope everyone likes peanut-butter-and-jelly or cheese! Peanut-butter-and-jelly is my favorite!"

I'll admit that I was beginning to feel guilty regarding my initial thoughts about Sharon. I had originally thought that she was simply not very bright but I was realizing that she had a true intellectual disability. That would explain there being no discussion of where she went to school. As Daphne had said—she knew of Sharon. And she obviously knew enough not to bring up the topic. She must have mentioned something to Fred since he was the most likely among us to put his foot in his mouth—especially since she was a pretty girl of about our age.

Fred, Daphne, and I had half a cheese sandwich each. Shaggy ate the other five cheese sandwiches almost without chewing. Sharon and Scooby shared the PB . By shared, I mean that Sharon snagged one sandwich and almost lost a finger doing it. Scooby was an eating machine. The tray was empty in seconds.

We sidled our way back into the parlor where Stuart appeared to have fallen asleep. He might have been faking it, but, if he was, it was the first good acting we had seen him perform.

I couldn't help but notice that Sharon's eyes were also getting a little droopy. I checked my phone and it was after midnight. "You look tired, Sharon. Maybe you should go ahead and get some sleep."

She seemed to have some trouble understanding what I had said and it took her a moment to respond. "I am feeling sort of… funny. I hate to leave you all alone."

"No problem." Fred piped in. "Just to make sure that nothing else happens, we'll all take turns standing guard."

Sharon stumbled slightly as she turned toward the stairs. "Thank you all so much. I am very tired. It has been such an exciting day." She was able to make it up the stairs and to her bedroom suite without assistance.

Daphne looked around at the rest of us. "Whose going to stand the first watch?"

Fred pointed at Scooby Doo. "Who else? The watch dog."

With Stuart only about twenty-five feet away, Scooby couldn't reveal that he could talk but he could get a lot of mileage out of what should have been an unexpressive dog's face. He did not want to be left alone with Stuart.

A little more guilt got added to my emotional heap when we all took advantage of his inability to argue to make our way to the upper floor and find a couple of bedrooms.

Shaggy stopped by his friend. "Scoob, I'll be back down in two hours to relieve you."

I saw Scooby whisper something but couldn't make it out. I slowed my steps up the stairs and allowed Shaggy to catch up. "What did Scooby say?"

Shaggy looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. "He explained what he would do to me if I got high instead of coming down to relieve him."

"Are you going to heed his warning?"

"He was pretty explicit. Like, it sounded like he was looking forward to it. There are some pent-up emotions in that dog."

"Good for him."

Daphne waved to me as we crested the top of the stairs. She had apparently found a guest room. I'm sure it was pretty swank but I have no clear recollections other than realizing how exhausted I was and falling asleep without changing into my pajamas. And I slept soundly…

…until Shaggy screamed.