Chapter 3: For Whom the Bell Tolls
Blue skies, moderate temperatures, and singing birds. The promise of a new day. Riverdale had awoken to a beautiful October morning, reminiscent of one of those picturesque scenes stamped onto the back of a postcard. Students slept in, relishing the start of the weekend after days of class and homework, parents leisurely headed to work, and kids played in the cool morning air. Everyone seemed so blissfully unaware of the quiet disappearance that had occurred the previous night. The same went for three of our tale's players - myself included - who had each too soon disregarded their moments of unease from the night before.
Jughead yawned, blinking the last traces of sleep from his eyes. Stretching out his arms, he was surprised when he found open air next to him. Wrinkling his brow, he yawned once more and ambled to the bathroom.
"Morning, Jug," FP said from the kitchen as Jughead bounced down the stairs. "Or should I say almost afternoon." Jughead looked over at the clock on the wall; it read 11:30 AM.
"I crashed, didn't set an alarm for this morning," he groggily replied as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked over at his father as he took a sip. "Did you see Betty come in last night? She wasn't in the room when I woke up."
FP shook his head. "No, I haven't seen her. She didn't come home with you?"
"No, she had to pick up her laptop from the school."
"Hmm," FP mused, "must have just missed each other last night, that's all." He went back to his coffee and newspaper.
Jughead checked his phone. No messages. He frowned; this wasn't like her.
A cold wave began to trickle down his spine. No, he thought, shake it off. Nothing's wrong.
FP noticed Jughead's demeanor. "Jug, I'm sure she's fine. She works even harder than you. And it's not like you haven't disappeared at Pop's for hours writing."
Pop's.
"Shoot…" he remembered, "I'm meeting Archie and Veronica at Pop's for lunch. Betty's supposed to meet us there, too."
"Have fun. I'm gonna wake JB up, I found her staring at the TV when I got home last night," FP leered. "Kid's gonna be a night owl just like the rest of us."
Jughead nodded quickly, then headed out the door, pushing his growing fear to the back of his mind.
Ding. The bell above the front door to Pop's chimed as Jughead entered the diner. He looked around, spotting Archie and Veronica already nestled in one of the booths. He slid across from the two and signaled to Pop to take his order.
"Hey, Jughead. Where's Betty?" Archie asked as he took a sip from his milkshake.
"Not sure," Jughead said as Pop walked over to the teens. "A cheeseburger, order of onion rings, and a chocolate shake. Thanks," Jughead said offhandedly, then he turned back to Archie. "She wasn't home when I woke up."
"Wow, she really did want to get that article done. I bet she's perfecting it right now; she wanted Archie to see it hot off the presses," Veronica piped up, a small tic in her smile.
"Yeah, I bet you're right." His concern began to dissipate and almost fully vanished as Pop laid his food out in front of him. "And I'm not waiting to eat just because Betty decided to be a perfectionist." He took a large bite of his burger. "How'd the rest of the night go, Archie? The tours and such?"
"Great! A lot of people were interested and a ton of the kids were excited about all the games and toys we've collected so far. Mad Dog and I are really excited. As long as no more bricks come our way, we-,"
"Bricks?" Jughead questioned through a mouthful of burger, accidentally spitting a small spray of bun and lettuce bits onto the table in front of him. Veronica shot him a dismayed look and Jughead returned it with an upturned eyebrow and smug chew.
Archie leaned back in his seat. "Yeah… someone threw a brick through a window before the ceremony last night."
"Just some losers looking to cause trouble," Veronica interjected quickly.
"Maybe, but I don't know. The message, 'Hope is dead', felt too personal."
"I don't know, Archie, maybe you're just a bit paranoid considering everything that has happened recently. Not everyone in this town bounces back as optimistically as you, maybe someone was just simply upset and took it out on your building." Jughead slurped his chocolate shake, his eyes darting between the two friends across from him and the door to the diner.
Veronica followed his eyes. "She'll be here." She poked at her food gingerly. "But if she doesn't walk in that door in 20 minutes, I'm marching over to the school and making her stop myself."
"You and me both," Jughead said, shoving an onion ring in his mouth. The three friends ate in silence for a few minutes. Ding. All three pairs of eyes flicked towards the door. It wasn't Betty.
"How's your mom doing, Veronica?" Archie finally asked.
Veronica bobbled her chin, "As good as a former mafia wife and East Villager can be in jail."
Ding. Flick.
"I know that her hands aren't the cleanest, but I need a parent." She popped a fry into her mouth. Archie and Jughead both looked around the room. "Oh… sorry," she mumbled.
"No, it's okay, Ronnie," Archie said, swinging an arm over the top of the booth, "you deserve to help her out."
"Yeah," Jughead chimed in, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "It's not like the rest of our parents' records are spotless."
Archie reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. Veronica grabbed it and rubbed gently between his fingers. "We'll support you through this, try to help you get her out if that's what you want."
Ding. Flick.
"Coming from someone who's dad has spent time in the slammer, and who's best bud is a former juvenile delinquent-," Jughead jested, glancing at Archie, "-yeah, we'll do what we can to help. Plus, anything to continue to piss off Hiram is a win in my book."
Veronica let out a soft hiss. "Agreed. He may be in jail too, but he still needs to see that his little schemes won't break me."
Ding. Flick.
The three friends stared at their table in silence for a few minutes, as if holding in a collective breath. Veronica was wringing her hands on her lap, while Archie shifted his shoulders and Jughead adjusted his beanie.
"Maybe we should just head to the school. To check on Betty," Veronica offered.
"Good idea," both boys stated at once. They rose from the booth and clambered out the door, the once calming ring of the small bell above the door now adding a note of dread to their already apprehensive minds.
A clear, blue sky hung over Riverdale High School. The faint sound of a Saturday afternoon football practice greeted the friends as they drove up in Archie's car. The three bolted up the front steps and into the school.
"Straight to voicemail," Jughead muttered, lowering his phone from his ear. "Her phone is off."
He swerved into the Blue & Gold office, expecting to see a sleepy blonde sitting at the main desk, but instead found himself gazing into an empty room. His eyes swept the room before landing on a silver rectangle laying on the desk.
"Her laptop's still here," he mused, slowly walking over to it. He ran a hand over its case and winced. "And it's cold..." Veronica came up behind him while Archie walked over to the foggy window. Jughead brushed aside a falling piece of hair and swallowed back his rising panic. "She never made it here."
"Maybe not to the room, but she did make it here," Archie exclaimed, pulling apart a few blinds from the window. "Look!" Jughead and Veronica scrambled over, squinting against the bright sun pouring in through the window. Sitting alone in a side parking lot, slightly hidden in the shadow of a tree, was an all-too-familiar station wagon.
Jughead flew out of the room and slammed open a pair of side doors leading outside, Archie and Veronica run-walking behind him to keep up with his frantic pace. A small glitter of light below the car kept dipping in and out of view. Jughead stooped down next to the passenger side door and reached underneath the car. He pulled out a set of keys that jingled around as he turned them over in his hand. A large pit grew in his stomach as his head churned, caught in a riptide of dread.
"Jug…" came Archie's distressed voice from the other side of the car. He held up a cracked phone, its' light blue case dirty and smudged. Betty's phone. Veronica let out a small gasp and wrapped herself around Archie's arm. Jughead slammed his fists into the top of the car, his eyes seething. He stayed there, leaning, peering into the dark interior of his girlfriend's car.
"What does this mean?" Veronica uttered. "Was she attacked?"
"No," Jughead grumbled, still staring into the emptiness of the car, "Not just attacked. If she had been attacked and got away she would have found us, or she would have gone to the police station."
Archie shuffled, leaning from one foot to the other. "And got away…" he repeated under his breath, "You're saying…?"
Jughead looked up at him with black and vacant eyes. "Put her phone back down where you found it. We have to call my dad. This is a crime scene."
Half an hour later police cruisers had the side lot at Riverdale High blocked off. Strands of yellow and black tape swung in the gentle autumn breeze, surrounding a small assembly of police officers. Jughead stood next to FP, who had a notepad in hand. Veronica leaned against a nearby tree while Archie sat on the curb behind Jughead. A few of the Bulldogs who were practicing had wandered over when the police arrived, but Archie had shooed them away and he was now staring at the football field making sure they stayed away.
"This is how we found it," recalled Jughead, "the keys were under the car while her phone was on the ground next to the driver's side. It was cracked when we found it. You'll find my prints and Archie's on them because we picked them up to have a closer look." His shoulders rose and fell, matching his labored breathing as he watched Betty's phone be placed inside a sealed evidence bag and taken away.
FP glanced at the car, then at the two other teens and let out a long sigh. "What were you doing at the school? What led you here?"
Jughead looked down, bouncing his head. When he looked back up at his father his eyes flared. "We were at Pop's, having lunch and waiting for Betty, but she never showed. We assumed she was trying to finish her article, so we headed here to check on her." He sucked in a shaky breath. "Dad, we found her laptop in the Blue & Gold office. And her car out here. She never made it inside."
FP stared sympathetically at his son, placing a hand on Jughead's shoulder.
"Dad, she came here last night. It must have happened then. She told me not to stay up and wait for her and I didn't. If I hadn't fallen asleep I would have noticed something was wrong."
"Stop it, Jughead. This is not your fault. None of us could have seen this coming." The glow in FP's eyes matched his son's. "Now, the three of you, go home. We'll take it from here, run forensics and check for fingerprints. Please, Jughead-," he took his son by his shoulders, "-please just be patient and let us do our thing first. I'll let you know as soon as possible if we find anything."
"Mr. Jones." Archie had sprung up behind Jughead, "Please, can't we do anything? It's Betty."
"I know, Archie, but we don't know who did this or why, or anything for that matter right now. I'm sorry." He straightened up, face turning stern. "Please go home. Clear your heads."
Archie huffed but nodded. He gently grabbed Jughead's arm, pulling him away from the scene and towards the tree where Veronica stood. "You're not going to be patient, are you?" he whispered to Jughead.
Jughead shook his head, eyes burrowing into his friend. "No, not one bit."
"Good. Neither are we." The redhead gestured toward Veronica, who nodded in agreement.
"But maybe your dad is right." Jughead and Archie gave Veronica a sharp look. "For now," she added, "rushing in emotionally in these types of situations hasn't always helped us in the past. For Betty's sake, we probably should take a step back and clear our heads."
Jughead just stared between the two of them for a few moments, breathing heavily, fighting against the raging tempest in his head. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. Clear head. For Betty."
Archie and Veronica nodded back and the three walked silently towards Archie's car.
The people of Riverdale had let their guard down, and once more the unthinkable had happened. How do you clear your head when such a tragedy is so close? That's what we had to figure out as the town asked once again for its youth to turn aside and let the adults do their job. This wasn't reassuring, as their job in the past seemed to consist of fumbling in the dark, grasping at proverbial straws.
While we were no strangers to dark and twisted things, this one felt different. We've all been the subjects of morose happenings, but that was usually in the middle of a spree of killings or a murder investigation, not out of the blue. Now answers were all I wanted. That's all any of us wanted. How could we rest knowing one of our own was out there, alone, scared, and at the mercy of who-knows-what? Or, simply just who? It turns out we didn't have to wait long for that first maddening answer. Sometimes in Riverdale, you don't have to go looking for trouble, trouble comes looking for you.
Archie and Jughead walked up to their respective houses' steps, casting one last downhearted glance at each other before stepping inside. Jughead flopped onto the couch, tearing off his beanie in dejection. Rage, frustration, guilt, fear - he wasn't sure which he felt the strongest. An image of Betty, her green eyes wide in panic, lips curled in a silent scream, and limbs thrashing as a stranger whisked her away into the night burned into the back of his eyes.
He let out a soft moan, trying to shake the looping, troubling image away. I didn't protect her, he buried his head in his hands, I didn't protect her and now she's gone.
"Jughead?"
He yelped, startled at the sudden appearance of his sister at the foot of the stairs. "What's wrong? Dad looked upset when he left earlier."
"JB…," he said slowly. "Uh, it's Betty. It's… it's not good. She's missing."
FP slumped down on the chair in his office and rubbed his face with a shaky hand. Why does everything keep falling apart? He glared absentmindedly at the paperwork on his desk. A job – a good job – a house, both of his children back, but why did everything still feel so wrong?
His eyes fell on the evidence board hanging on his wall, his gaze tracing the crisscrossing lines. Whatever pieces had finally been set in place in his life felt as if they were dislodging, ready to fall into a jumbled pile. The town was on the verge of becoming the subject of yet another one of his son's mystery novels, but instead of being the misguided scapegoat this time, he would be the laughing stock caricature of the sheriff, milling about aimlessly as younger protagonists swooped in for the glory. And somehow that was worse, more pathetic.
Bringg! The phone on his desk jolted him back to reality. "What now…?" he muttered before picking up the receiver. "Hello?" His face fell, draining of color as he listened to the voice on the other end. "Damn. Yeah, I'll send officers out right away. How long?" A pause. "Since yesterday? Alright, thank you."
FP hung up the phone in a hurry, grabbing his keys clumsily and flying out the door towards his cruiser.
Jughead cupped his hands, resting his chin in the crook of his fingers, and stared at his sister's perplexed face. "We found her car and phone by the school. I called dad to have him check it out. We don't know what happened."
Jellybean frowned; Jughead knew she was only partially grasping the gravity in his voice. She wrapped him in a hug. "You'll find her. You always do, you always figure it out."
Wiping away a quiet tear, Jughead couldn't help but smile. Between Archie and his sister, optimism wasn't fully dead in Riverdale. He hoped that she didn't grow into as much angst and cynicism as he had. He let his head fall on her shoulder, enveloping Jellybean in a returned hug.
The two stayed in their hug, momentarily escaping the ache lodged in Jughead's heart. Jellybean opened her eyes and stared out the window behind the couch, her mouth forming another confused frown. "Jug," she said warily, "who's that?"
"What?" Jughead looked over his shoulder. A man stood in the street adjacent the house, staring right back at him. He bolted upright, instinctively herding Jellybean behind him. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, complimenting the pounding he felt in his chest.
"Dad," Jughead said, raising his phone to his ear as he tried to steady his breathing.
"Jug, where are you right now?" FP shouted urgently into his phone. He was speeding down the street in his cruiser, the lights and siren blaring.
"I'm at the house. With JB."
"Good. Stay there, I'm on my way. Listen, I just got a call that there's an escaped convict in town. Jughead, it's-,"
"-Chic." Jughead finished his father's sentence, a fire burning in his chest, his brown eyes locked in silent contention with the wicked blue eyes staring steadily back at him through the window.
Author's Notes: A little bit of a shorter chapter this time. I'm peacing out the rest of the weekend for 4th of July vacation, and then I've got some big projects I need to focus on at my job so, fair warning, the next update probably won't be for at least a week! But I wanted to leave you with a little more of the story.
The chapters are going to be pretty long from here on out, and there are plenty of twists and turns ahead. Don't get too comfortable!
As always, review, let me know what you think! Sorry to leave you on such a suspenseful cliffhanger!