Mr. Norville And the Case of the Missing Uncle Part One:

Leila stepped out of the cab and into the dim glow of the only street light illuminating the dilapidated office building in front of her. It was late but her friend had said the man would be there. He was always there, waiting for the next mystery.

There was no buzzer. A beat up piece of two-by-four, propped open the door. Leila felt uneasy. She wasn’t the type of person to seek out help like this but her uncle was missing, possibly in danger and she needed answers. It’s not like she would be the one in the thick of it anyway. In the long run, she would provide the funds while someone else did all the work. Eventually, she would end up waiting by the phone for any updates.

Leila pushed her way through the door, making her way to the fourth floor. She found his office at the end of the hall. Letters peeling off the frosted glass read: N. Rogers, Private Investigator, She rapped on the door . The only answer was the low howl from a dog. She knocked again louder.

“Zoinks,” the startled man on the other side said. He cleared his throat. “It’s open.”

Leila stepped inside. A faint musty odor hung in the air while empty take-out containers–a few containing remnants of half-smoked joints– were haphazardly strewn around the room. The man lay face up on an empty desk in a wrinkled olive shirt and brown corduroy jeans, his bloodshot eyes stared up at the ceiling. An aging great dane looked at her curiously from a pallet on the floor.

Leila hesitated, “Mr. Shaggy?” She asked.

The man sat up, slowly dragging a hand down his face. “Norville,” he said. “No one calls me Shaggy anymore. Now, what can I do for you Miss–?”

“Jones. Leila Jones. My uncle is missing,” she said, laying a photo on the desk beside Norville, “And you’re going to find him.

Norville stared down at the photo, almost afraid to pick it up. The dog stood, tilting its head to examine the photo itself, a low yowl escaped its throat.

“I know Scoob,” Norville whispered. “But we can't.” Norville addressed Leila, “I’m sorry Miss Jones, we won’t accept this case but if you ever have another mystery that needs solving you know where to find me. I’ll be sitting on my desk, waiting for the next one.”

Leila knew that Norville and her uncle had a history. Years ago, along with two other friends, they had started Mystery Inc. A traveling crime-solving group that operated out of the back of a van. A few years after that a falling-out had occurred but Leila didn’t know the specifics.

“Please, Mr. Norville. I think something terrible has happened to him and no one will talk to me. I can pay you all up-front.” Leila said, grabbing the check book from her purse.

Scooby barked at Norville and then began a low growl. It was strange to Leila how they seemed to understand each other.

“They threw us to the curb, Scoob.” he said trying to reason with the old dog.

Scooby barked again and Norville threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine,” he finally said, “But you’re going to have to buy your own scooby snacks.” Norville turned to Leila. “Okay Miss Jones, Where was your Uncle Fred last seen?”

Leila exhaled in relief. “ The last place he was seen was on the Island of Grenada. He has a vacation home there.”

Norville snorted, “If only life could be so easy.” He grabbed an old baseball hat off the floor of his dingy office and Scooby followed him to the door. “Well, Miss Jones, Aren’t you coming?” he said looking back.

“What do you mean?”

“You know more about your Uncle’s dealings and whereabouts than I do and your help would be invaluable to solving the case. Plus, it’ll be nice having a partner again. At least for this one case.”

Scooby barked from the hallway.

“Like, you know what I mean Scoob.”

“Uh huh,” Scooby barked sarcastically from the hallway.

“Wait, did your dog just–” but Norville was already walking away from the office. Leila hurriedly shut the door behind her and clambered to keep up. “So, where are we going?” she asked, following the duo to an older model Honda parked in front of the building. The horn was missing from the steering wheel and old newspapers and trash littered the car.

“We’re going to the airport," Norville said, hopping in, "And I hope you're hungry because we’re stopping for some chow first.”

The car peeled off as Leila jumped into the back seat. Hope I'm not in over my head She thought as she met Mr. Norville's eyes in the rearview mirror.

To be continued…

[WC:800]

Trying my hand at writing mystery and I thought it would be fun to do it via SEUS and Scooby Doo! More parts to come. Feedback would be great! Thanks for reading.