Chapter 04

"I am sixteen years old!"

"Exactly." Barty Blake was, once again, playing bad cop. Nan was playing 'other bad cop'. "And a sixteen-year-old heiress does not go flying around the country without a security detail."

"But a normal sixteen-year-old does."

"Agreed. But you are not a normal sixteen-year-old. You are a Blake, which makes you a target."

Nan pitched in. "No one is going to kidnap your friend Velma, dear. Why would they?"

"She's already been kidnapped!" And that was a good thing?

"And so have you." Barty laid this down like he would a piece of insider knowledge in a business deal.

"You watched the Swamp's End episode." The Gang had edited most of the worst part out but thought that the episode would lose a lot of its umph if they cut it out entirely. It had been a gamble that her parents might see it.

"The security lead did and reported back to us. He was not pleased that you had been kidnapped and had not submitted an incident report."

Daphne had her lie prepared for this. "I really wasn't kidnapped. It didn't last any time and I was never in any real danger. We sort of jazzed it up for the episode to make it more exciting." This was the exact opposite of what they had done. Her father's response would tell her how closely the security team was watching her.

"Be that as it may. You will have security. You will travel on one of the family jets…"

"But I want to travel with my friends!" She interrupted.

Which a Blake did not do. Nan's eyes narrowed. "Daphne!"

Daphne dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry, father. But I would prefer to travel with my friends."

"I assume they are traveling commercial." Nan said the word 'commercial' as if it had a bad taste.

"The airline tickets are being provided by the National Geographic Society—our client."

Barty looked at Nan and then back at his daughter. "Jemison from the legal department called me up and let me know what kind of questions that you've been asking her. I have to admit that I didn't foresee anything positive coming from your association with these people but you're asking good questions and learning business from the ground up. Your income from YouTube is nothing to write home about but, considering that you are sixteen, it is not unimpressive. I, of course, had perfected the bubble bath manufacturing process by the time I was twelve and made my first million when I was your age. But, you've at least surpassed your sisters."

Nan patted his arm, "There is only one Barty Blake."

Her father continued, "A security detail will accompany you and your friends to the airport in Riley and another detail will meet you in Washington DC and will accompany you through your endeavor."

Daphne felt herself wanting to bounce on the balls of her feet. But that wouldn't do. She was a Blake after all. "I can live with that. Thank you, Father… Mother."

xXx

"I'll work Mondays the rest of the Summer."

"But Velma, you're our big draw." Dale Dinkley was using his forced patient voice. "When people come into the museum, they get to see one of Mystery, Inc."

"I'll end up working the same number of days."

"But Monday is our quietest day of the week."

Angie Dinkley stepped in. "Velma, can you make a presentation about your mystery-solving escapades? You could use it to advertise your YouTube channel."

"I suppose." Velma saw a trap being sprung in the form of a compromise.

Angie turned to her husband, "Dale, can you advertise these special presentations on Mondays and maybe make our quietest day busier?"

Dale jumped on it. "That's a great idea! I'll make signs and put out a press release to all of the local travel and tour agencies."

Velma found herself agreeing to making public speaking presentations. At least she could consider it practice for the days when she would have to give lectures when she was a professor. And maybe if she was advertising the show, then she could get some of The Gang to join her.

xXx

"You can't take pot on a plane."

"Yes sir. I know that."

"If they catch you, then you will go to prison. You've come close before."

Shaggy didn't really think that he had but he wasn't going to argue with his father. "Yes sir."

"And you can't go around looking to buy drugs in Washington DC. You'll get caught and I don't have the money to come and bail you out or hire some fancy attorney."

"No pot. Yes sir."

Colton Rogers left the room without saying another word. Shaggy looked expectantly at his mother. She nodded. He was going.

xXx

Fred Jones Sr smiled, "It sounds like a great learning opportunity and a lot of fun."

Relief rolled over Fred. "I've got Joey and Jeff from the football team lined up to help you. Just call them whenever you need. I'll pay them from the money we make from National Geographic."

His father's smile deepened, "Son, you are young and strong and are a big help to me on my jobs, but that isn't the reason I want you to work with me during the summers. I work so many hours that it's hard for me to find time with you. I just like spending the time together. I'll get by for a few days."

Fred nodded. "It'll just be a couple of days, I promise." Fred turned to leave and tell the others but stopped and turned back, "I enjoy spending time with you, too, Dad."

xXx

The next morning, Daphne took lead on the conference call, "Mr. La Gorce, our attorneys have reviewed the contract and the NDAs which you sent and your revisions based on their comments are acceptable. We have also worked out our logistical issues and are immediately available."

"Excellent," he replied from the other end, "I took the liberty of booking four tickets for you for this evening. We have also reserved four rooms at a hotel which is not too far from the headquarters. We will reimburse you for any Uber or taxi charges which you incur."

"Four tickets?" Shaggy broke in. "What about Scooby Doo?"

The Society member was nonplussed, "I didn't anticipate that you would be taking your pet."

The brief silence was broken by Fred, "If you watched our episodes, then you have seen that we rely heavily on Scooby Doo's tracking abilities in solving our mysteries. Scooby is extremely well trained."

"He's a service dog!" Shaggy blurted.

"What type of service dog?"

"A comfort animal. I have the certificate."

"I'm afraid that airlines are no longer recognizing comfort animals as official service animals. But I can make arrangements for him to accompany you. Do you have an animal carrier?"

"A what?"

"An animal carrier. For shipping your pet."

"Shipping?"

Velma stepped in, "We'll get one before we leave."

Fred appended, "Can we get reimbursed for the expense?"

La Gorce let out a brief sigh, "I suppose. In for a penny, in for a pound." After some more travel planning, he signed off, leaving The Gang to speak among themselves.

"Rye'm reing ripped rike ruggage?"

"Yes, Scooby," Velma answered, "it looks like that's the only way to get you there."

"Rwhat if the ruggage rompartment deressurizes?"

Velma waited for someone else to answer but, apparently, this debate was going to be left to her. "You've been watching too many disaster movies."

"Rut it can rappen."

"Yes, and the whole plane can crash…"

"Zoinks! What?!"

Oops. "But it is still far safer than driving."

"Driving's not safe?!"

This was working backwards. "Everything will be fine. Scooby will be safe and we all will be safe."

Daphne mumbled under her breath, "Tell that to my security team."

Fred finished off. "The bottom line is that we've got just a few hours to get packed and buy a dog carrier for Scooby."

"Rog Rarrier! Row rumiliating!" Scooby huffed.

Daphne's phone blinged. She opened her e-mail to find a plane e-ticket in her name. "There's something wrong with this ticket. The seat number is way too large."

"What do you mean?" Fred sidled in behind her.

She pointed at her phone. "See, my seat number is 32A. They normally don't go up higher than 12."

There was a stunned silence from the non-rich contingent of The Gang. Fred looked to Velma for help. And Velma took it on. "Ummm Daphne, we're flying economy."

Daphne looked dumbstruck, "Economy?" She regained her composure. "I've never done that before. How quaint."