Chapter Text
Norville yawns, covering his mouth with hand, the other on Scoob's collar. He's a smart dog, but anyone who thinks they can trust a Great Dane to restrain themselves at the smell of carnival food is a fool, and deserves the mess that that will inevitably cause -- or so Norville thinks.
The late spring night is unexpectedly chilly, and Norville is glad he always has spare blankets in his car. Looking around, he can see some of the lights are still on. In particular, it looks like the lights on the stage near the center of the tiny park are still on, which makes sense -- that's where the news says the body is. So he makes the short way to the semicircle of benches, winding between the tables of the dining area. He passes a table and notices a paper plate resting atop it. Before he can get a second chance to look, Scooby has his front paws on the table and is delightedly licking the plate clean of barbecue sauce and leftover ribs. That's odd -- had someone missed this cleaning up? Had old man Jenkins decided to give himself a reward for a job well done? He's cold, though, and he knows if he doesn't get moving again, he knows he'll lose the courage. So he pulls on Scoob's collar ever so gently and steps forward, knowing his old pal will follow.
As he approaches the back row of seats, he raises his head a little to see if he can get a look at the body -- and notices a person sitting on a bench to his left. He stops moving immediately and Scoob nearly pulls him off his feet as he too sees the stranger and immediately makes to lick their face. He makes a noise that sounds almost like "please" as Norville keeps him back, and the person on the bench turns. It's only when he sees her face that he notices her red hair and, frankly, garish purple outfit. It's Daphne Blake. She speaks first.
"Shaggy? What the hell are you doing here -- with your dog?" He voice doesn't necessarily carry any haughtiness or scorn. But she still sounds vaguely displeased to be around Norville, and he doesn't like the way she says dog.
"If you need to, like, ask why Coolville's most laid back hippie is loitering at a park with tons of cheap, greasy food, you haven't been paying attention, dude." He takes care to keep his tone neutral. "And please don't call me Shaggy."
"No need to be rude, Norville, I was just surprised." She crosses her arms and eyes Scooby warily, and the huge dog sits, his ears going back.
"... so what are you doing here?" Daphne asks, looking somewhat guilty.
"I was curious," he replies, looking towards the stage to indicate his meaning. "I guess I just wanted to see what it looks like.
She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "That's a little dark, don't you think?" Norville nods in a distracted way.
"I guess," he admits. "Why are you here, then?"
She pauses for a long moment, looking anywhere but at the stage. Her brow furrows, and she swallows down some emotion.
"I, um." She pauses again, but not as long as before.
"I didn't know about it before I came here." This surprises Norville -- he would have thought that she of all people would have been in the loop about these things.
She continues, "They already moved the body, if that's what you want to see. But it's still a crime scene -- they've got the tape on it and everything. All you'll find is some equipment for the investigation."
"Oh." There's a silence that lasts for a long minute, neither knowing exactly what to do or say next. Then, Scoob whines, and Norville takes it as conformation that he wants to move on.
"Well, I guess we'd better go. Scoob probably wants more dinner." He gives a nervous chuckle.
Daphne stands awkwardly. "Well, I guess I'll see you --"
There's a noise to Norville's left, and the three look. A few dozen feet away, a light shines from around a corner -- it must be old man Jenkins. The two teens look at each other, nod, then scramble to get away. Immediately, Norville and Scooby gain a lead. It doesn't last, though -- they stumble over a bench, allowing the redhead to catch up. She doesn't seem to be running so much as speedwalking -- Norville realizes making a getaway in heels can't be easy on the toes. He and Scoob catch back up in a moment, and the three reach the fence at the corner of the park. The only path left for them is to the right. They round the corner of a carnival game just in time to avoid the light from Jenkins's flashlight to shine where they just were.
"Shit," Daphne swears, much to Norville's surprise. He gives her a questioning look.
"He saw me," she elaborates. "I was a little slow, he saw me before I could hide."
"Zoinks," Norville says, giving a defeated smile. "Guess we're caught.
There's a long pause as the light grows brighter. In the dark, Norville thinks he can see her brow furrow. She gives him an odd look. Conflicted, maybe.
"Go, get out of here," she says.
"What?"
"He didn't see you, he saw me. I'm that nice Blake girl, I can talk him out of it. But you're Coolville's most laid back hippie. They'll get you in Juvie for whatever they can."
"But, like, you can come with. We can get out of here together." He's confused -- what's up with this girl?
"Oh, come on." He can hear old man Jenkins's footsteps. "I'm in heels, and you can almost keep up with that dog -- if I come with, you'll get caught. Just let me talk to him and distract him while you get away, okay?"
Jenkins is seconds from rounding the corner, and Norville sees her point. He nods. At this, Daphne steps out to intercept him. Norville and Scooby take off for the car.