Prologue

Our Spring Break Road Trip had resulted in two debilitating mysteries and we all agreed that we needed some time to lick our wounds. Judging from the sounds in the back seat of the car on the last leg of that drive, that wasn't all that Fred and Daphne were licking. Even now the memory of the sounds coming from just two feet behind me makes my skin crawl. At least they kept their clothes on and everything, although noisy, remained PG. But this is not a discussion about class aves and genus apis.

In the previous week, we had seen a man killed, two men arrested, and a young woman of our age irreparably emotionally impacted. Mystery-solving was neither fun nor cute anymore. It was way too real. We would continue to work together to get the two episodes edited and uploaded which would keep us busy for several days. But we would not go looking for a new mystery.

And we didn't. It came looking for us.

I was definitely dragging a bit on Monday morning when we returned to school. We had gotten back on Saturday night and I thought that one day would have been enough rest for me to be revitalized. It wasn't. At the age of fifteen years, ten months, one week, and five days, I felt old for the first time. Maybe it was the waking up screaming every hour for the past two nights. An emergency call to my therapist over the weekend had resulted in an emergency appointment with a psychiatrist… next month. Somebody's definition of 'emergency' was a little out of whack.

I made it through the morning and shuffled my way down the lunch line. It was definitely a comfort food sort of day-grilled cheese sandwich and macaroni and cheese. I would start my diet next week. Fred and Daphne were already at our usual table. They were sitting really close to each other but trying to play it cool. By the way everyone was casting furtive glances their way, they were not being cool enough. I really wasn't in the mood.

I walked up to their table. "Guys, I'm not really up for talking mysteries today. I might just sit alone if that's okay."

Daphne looked up. "Nightmares?"

I nodded.

"Me, too."

Fred reached over and gently held Daphne's hand. This was really touching. I had to get out of there.

This new nice Daphne helped. "Do whatever you have to do to get through this. We're here if you need us."

We? Us? I guessed that was pretty official now. They were a 'we'.

"Okay." I didn't run from the table. But I wanted to.

I made my way over to the nerds' table which was empty and sat. The grilled cheese was cold which made the crust chewy and the macaroni and cheese was also cold which didn't affect it that much. I saw Shaggy come into the cafeteria with a couple of his stoner friends. They were laughing a little too much and walking just a bit wobbly which indicated that they had just returned from the 'secret' place where they went to get high that everyone knew about. High school is an amazing microcosm of society.

A shadow crossed through my peripheral vision, followed by the screeching of the chair on the vinyl tile floor. A tray plopped down next to mine and Marcie Fleach sat down.

"Hi Marcie." I wasn't my usual perky self—as if anyone would notice.

"Hi Velma. Are you mad at your other friends?" A blunt statement made by a blunt person. But the insertion of the word 'other' before the word 'friends' was endearing and made me feel just a little better about life. Marcie didn't make an effort to make me feel better—she just did.

"No. They're fine. It was just a tough week."

"You didn't have fun on your trip?"

That was a perfectly normal question. It was a Spring Break trip with friends. I had been looking forward to it. It should have been fun. But then I had stared into a man's face as he died.

"Not in the end. No, not much fun."

"Are you still solving mysteries?"

"We're on kind of a hiatus."

"That's too bad."

Marcie was not the type to sympathize. If she said it was 'too bad', she wasn't supporting me emotionally. There was a very specific reason that it was 'too bad'.

"Why?"

There was no pause. Again, she was Marcie. "I think I have a mystery that needs solving."

Who was going to die this time?

I put this thought out of my head and asked instead, "I need more detail." With Marcie, I could speak efficiently without being call 'Robot Girl'.

"There's something wrong at the Funland amusement park."

I was aware of the amusement park. It was on the beach, not far from Crystal Cove. It had been closed down since I was ten years old. I needed more background. "What's your association with Funland?"

"My father bought it and is trying to reopen it this summer."

This was stunning news. "Your father is a professor at Darrow University."

"He quit that. He said it was a childhood dream to own the park. My mother calls it a mid-life crisis."

He quit my dream job to run an amusement park? This would require further study but was not germane to the topic at hand. "What's been happening at Funland?"

"Things that are not easily explained. Parts of the park turn on randomly and other parts which worked moments before cease operating."

"Sounds like electrical glitches."

"Granted. But my father has put me in charge of the hot dog stand. I was working there on Saturday and it ceased functioning. I went to the breaker box and checked all of the connections and they were all tight. When I went back, not only was the stand operating normally but six hot dogs had been made with ketchup, mustard, and relish and left in a row on the counter. I've been working on an automated hot dog delivery system but it was not operational at that time. I completed it yesterday and it tested satisfactory."

"So, someone made those six hot dogs while you were away from the stand. How long were you away?"

"Ninety seconds at a maximum."

"How long would it take you to put together six hot dogs?"

"The buns were steamed. I prepared five sets of six hot dogs in the same manner and my best time was ninety-one point four five seconds. My average time was ninety-four point seven two seconds and my median time was ninety-four point one two seconds."

Thorough, but unnecessary, information. Sometimes I see why people find me irritating. "And you consider yourself accomplished at wiener cookery?"

"I've been practicing since my father told me that I could keep the profits from the stand to use for my college fund. I am excellent at time-efficient preparation." No brag, just fact.

"So, you believe that it would be impossible for someone to wait for you to exit the stand, come out of hiding, fully make six hot dogs, and then return to hiding before your return within ninety seconds?"

"Yes."

"And similar things are happening at other locations of the park?"

"According to my father, yes."

"Has your mother provided confirmation?"

"She stays in the office and handles the bookkeeping. My father and I take care of technical things."

There was an expression on Marcie's face that I could not fathom. I went through the mental checklist that my therapist had given me to help me decipher body language. Was she leaning toward me or away? Toward me. That generally meant that she felt positively about me. Were her irises slightly dilated? Yes. That meant the same. It was inescapable that Marcie Fleach considered me to be a friend. And I felt the same about her.

I desperately needed a break from mysteries and hated what I was about to say. "Let's go speak with the rest of the gang."