I pretty much really enjoyed the last little Hairspray mystery I wrote, so I decided to write another one. This one might be even more crazy than the last one was.

Continuity: I am once again struck down with the deasease of laziness and didn't do reasearch.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hairspray. My spell check is broken. 'Nuff said.

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When the recording studio was finished with Link Larkin and sent him home, he still stood in his back yard, practicing, sarinading the moon and sometimes old Mrs. Lebrouski, the widow who lived across the alley behind the Larkin house, as she sat in her rocking chair at her window when she heard his smooth, melodic voice start wafting though her open window.

Tell me you're my girl and I'm your boy...that your my pride and I'm your joy... he sang out without reservation

She sat with her eyes closed, a small smile on her face and tears silently running down her cheeks, clutching a picture of her late husband to her chest.

Link finished the song with a long high note he liked to pour his whole heart into, imagining Tracy's smile whenever he did It Takes Two. The way she let her eyes close dreamily, the way she sighed.

He allowed silence to settle around him after he finished the song, happy witht the result. He expirimented with key changes for awhile unitll he heard Mr. Truman next door lean out his window and yelled out, "Get inside and quit that racket, boy! I'm trying to sleep!"

Link looked at his watch and learned that it was half after eight.

"Crotchety old goat." Link mumbleld to himself as he walked back to his house.

"I heard that, you punk!" Mr. Truman said as he ducked back into his second-story window.

Link headed quickly back toward the light of his back door, trying to avoid any more wrath from Mr. Truman, but before he could reach it, Link's mother appeared in the doorway.

"That was beautiful, Link, but you have a telephone call, Baby." she said and dissapeared back inside the house.

"Thanks, Mom" he said as he passed his mother in the kitchen, doing dishes.

He crossed into the living room to the phone. "Hello?" he said into the reciever.

"Link, I was wondering if you could come to the record shop." the voice on the line said.

"Seaweed? What's going on?" Link asked, confused.

"I don't know. A guy just came in and...I'm guessing he'll explain when you get here. He wants to talk to us." Seaweed said.

"I'll be right over." Link said and hung up.

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Link shook the stray snowflakes out of his dark hair as the bell jangled when he pushed the door open to Motormouth Records record shop. He rubbed his hands together and hopped form foot to foot to try to warm himself in the sudden heat of the shop.

He jumped when Seaweed suddenly popped out from behind one of the shelves of music.

"Link!" he said.

"Holy Shit! Seaweed, you scared the crap out of me! What the hell's the matter with you?" Link said, taking off his coat and hanging it on the hat stand by the door.

"He's back here. He was real insistent." Seaweed said, chuckling at startling his friend.

Link followed Seaweed in the back, where Motormouth was sitting and talking with a man.

"Link! Come and sit down, Honey. Do you want anything? Something to eat? You boys are so skinny, I don't know how you keep warm in the snow." She asked him.

"No, No thank you, Ms. Maybelle." Link said, sitting where Motormouth had indicated. "Seaweed said something about needing to talk, Ma'am?"

"Well, Link, we have a visitor here that wanted to ask you a favor." Motormouth said with hesitation.

The man who sat in front of Link had been silent up unitll now, studying Link. He held out a hand. "Tom Weatherly." the man intoduced himself.

"It's...uh...Nice to meet you, Mr. Weatherly" Link said hesitantly taking his hand and shaking it.

"I've come to ask for you and Seaweed's help, Link" Tom said.

"With what?" Link asked.

"I own a restaurant downtown." Tom began. "And I had been doing well for a number of years. A couple of weeks ago, on one of our busier nights, I was taking the trash out and heard strange noises in the back hallway. I went to investigate and saw a shimmer of silver light dissapear into darkness. Then, later, as I was talking to patrons in the restaraunt and the same light shone brightly in the middle of the dining room giving everyone a warning that anyone who enter the building was cursed."

"That would clear a room in a hurry." Link commented.

"It did. and it kept clearing the room, every week, like clockwork, on friday, my buisiest night." Tom said, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, sir. I really am, but I really don't see what this has to do with me." He looked back uncertainly at Seaweed and Motormouth's confused faces.

"Well, I read in the paper a few months back and saw you and Seaweed save your show and I was hoping...that you two could take a look into this for me." Tom told him.

"But sir, I-I'm a singer. Seaweed and I dance on a TV show, We're not a detectives." Link explained.

"Not to mention there's no such things as ghosts or curses." Seaweed agreed.

"Please. You would be doing me a huge favor." Tom pleaded.

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In the end, Seaweed and Link agreed to try, careful not to promise anything, and the next morning found them at the Weatherly's restaurant.

It sat in a brick building, squat, but still managed to maintain some elegance, labeled 'The Echo Room' with a graceful neon sign and fancy window furnishings. Link could tell it was a high-class place.

The Echo Room was in a part of Baltimore that Link didn't see much, not that it's that particularly different from his own neighborhood, Link had never been there much before.

They stepped inside, siging with relief as the warm atmosphere of the eatery.

"Good morning!" squeaked a high pitched voice The voice belonged to that of a painfully thin brunette hostess, who paused on Link, giving him a long look from his perfectly formed hair to his booted feet. "Welcome to The Echo Room. Table for two?" She said with the same look in Seaweed's direction.

Link didn't seem to notice. "No, thank you. We're looking for Tom Weatherly. Is he around?" he asked her politely.

"I don't know, but is there something I can help you boys with?" The hostess asked in what she apperently thought was a sultry voice, leaning on her wooden podium and batting her eyes at them..

"Boys!" A familiar voice greeted. They saw Tom Weatherly striding toward them, a huge smile on her face. "Thank you, Rosa." he said to the hostess. Rosa slumped back, a dissapointed look on her face as Weatherly led Seaweed and Link behind a door marked Private.

"She single." Weatherly informed them with a wink.

"Huh?" Link said.

"Rosa. I think she liked you two."

"I have a girlfriend." Link and Seaweed said together hastily.

"Oh, yeah." was all he said.

They were led into the back hallway, which was several degrees colder than the dining room. Seaweed and Link fanned out, unsure what to look for, but looked anyway.

"It was right there, by the coat closet." Weatherly informed them.

Link gavitated more toward the back door, perpendicular to the closet, while Seaweed went for the actual closet. They came up with nothing. The dining room yielded the same.

"Well, I think we should come back on friday, so we can see this ghost for ourselves." Link concluded.

"I'd comp your meal. Bring your lady friends." Weatherly said eagerly.

"Thanks, Mr. Weatherly. We'll be back. Can we leave out the back door?" Link asked, feeling the cold walk around the building was worth not having to deal with Rosa again.

"Sure." Weatherly said as the phone bagan to ring. "Can you show yourselves out?"

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Seaweed grabbed Link's arm as he reached for the doorknob to the snow-covered world outside.

"What?" Link asked.

"You notice how he watched us when we looked around? I'd say that wasn't on the up-and-up, you know what I'm saying?" Seaweed whispered as they heard the door to Weatherly's office open and close. "Something doesn't sit right with all of this. I think we need to check out this phone call."

Link shrugged his shoulders, opened the back door and closed it, and follwoed Seaweed to the outside of Weatherly's office. Seaweed and Link put thier ears to the door.

"This didn't work out so well the last time we tried this." Link whispered. "We ended up tied to two chairs." Seaweed elbowed him into silence.

"-what you want these two for before I go any further. They're just kids!" Weatherly was saying.

Link pressed his ear harder to the door, his attention effectively grabbed.

Weatherly sighed deeply. "Of course I remember. No, please, I'll do it. They're coming back on Friday."

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Well, that's an odd twist. I'm excited to see where I'm going with this. I mean, I totally know what I'm doing. Kind of.

This chapter started very simply and it kind of raged out of control. So if I missed anything in redoing it, apologies.

Anyway, thanks guys for coming around for a second go around with these Link/Seaweed mysteries. I do so enjoy them.

-Gold