Chapter 3

~*~ That Afternoon ~*~

Distracted by the disaster that was lunch with her mom, Betty blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the Cottonmouth.

"Is that Betty Cooper?"

Smiling, Betty got the impression of a tall shadow moving towards her before FP wrapped her in a bear hug, lifting her off of her feet.

"Hi, FP," she laughed as he set her down, his large hand fondly squeezing her arm. "It's good to see you."

FP's warm welcome was a stark contrast to her mother's preoccupied frostiness. Betty's eyes finally adjusted and she beamed, taking in that FP had gone completely grey.

"How was Yale?" he asked, walking towards the bar. "Want a drink? JB! Look who's here!"

Jughead's little sister, Jellybean, had grown into a pretty, young woman. She emerged from a doorway and gave Betty a once-over, laughing as she trotted towards her for a hug.

"You look like a spook, Betty!"

Betty forced a chuckle but glanced at FP in surprise. Did she really? FP looked just as startled but seemed to agree with JB. He lifted his brows and shrugged as he set out three shot glasses.

Giddy with the heartfelt welcome of FP and JB, Betty decided one shot wouldn't hurt – even if it was only 2:00 pm. Her mom had fed her a sizable meal.

"Guess you're why Jug is upstairs cleaning, huh?" FP chuckled.

"Is he?" Betty replied, fighting feeling flattered. She and JB leaned on the bar and watched FP pour generous shots of tequila.

Silently, they lifted the glasses in salute to one another and knocked them back. Betty gasped as the tangy alcohol burned down her throat.

"I've got to meet Freddie. See you, Betty!" JB hollered and skipped out the door.

"How long are you in town?" FP asked as he slung a towel over his shoulder and started slicing limes.

"I've got to be back to work next Friday," she replied. "JB looks good, happy."

"Don't let her sweet, little face fool you. That girl is a handful. Jughead's done the best he can keeping her out of trouble but she's stubborn…"

"Like other Joneses I know…" Betty grinned. Was it the tequila or the earnest welcome melting her heart? Growing up, even before there was a Black Hood or Farm, there had always been something chillingly aloof about the Cooper family. They were not affectionate or supportive. Unlike the Joneses who had open arms even though they were far from perfect and had gone through rough times.

FP looked like he wanted to say more but just nodded. He pointed at a nondescript door.

"He's up the stairs."

"Thanks, FP."

It was difficult to concentrate on analyzing the case file in Jughead's apartment. Betty was enveloped by the scent of lemon cleanser and Jughead's aftershave. And Jughead. He was being helpful, examining each photograph and piece of paper, asking intelligent, pertinent questions. When he went quiet, Betty looked up to find him staring at her, arms crossed.

"Is this weird?" she asked.

"No," Jughead replied.

Betty stared back and crossed her arms. Obviously, he had something on his mind.

"Betty Cooper… You wrecked me, baby," he said softly.

"I made a mistake, Jug. …Tom Petty aside, I'm still sorry, for what it's worth…" she whispered slowly, voice trembling. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. She refused to cry over something that had happened years ago. Why did it feel fresh? Like it had happened yesterday? She'd already apologized many times and cried many nights.

When Betty opened her eyes, she found that Jughead had his back to her and was looking over the two items they had pinned to the wall: a city map and one picture of Terrance Tate as he lived, jovial and warm.

"Pop deserved better," he announced.

"So did you," Betty murmured.

If Jughead heard her, he gave no indication. He sat down and they resumed going through the case file in silence. After a couple of minutes, Betty's trained, analytical mind sharpened and focused on the story painted by the evidence.

"Walk me through it..?" Jug asked, ashen faced as he pushed photographs of the body around the table top.

"Terrance Tate was stabbed thirty-seven times," Betty said softly, slowly. She could almost picture how it all went down.

"He was putting trash in the dumpster behind the diner when he was attacked. The wounds on his arms and hands indicate that he was surprised and tried to defend himself."

Jug stared hollowly at Betty.

"It was unplanned but personal. If there were fewer wounds, I would suspect it was done by someone under the influence. But the attacker wanted to hurt Pop. They had no idea what they were doing. They hit the common carotid by accident."

Betty's voice dropped to a whisper; "His body was dragged out of sight into the field and he bled to death. It was relatively quick…"

"I get it," Jug rasped, eyes red and suspiciously wet. "He always gave me a little extra when I couldn't afford it – burgers, fries, chicken…"

Heart sinking, Betty remembered when Jughead had been homeless. She'd shared meager bits of food with him when she could have easily made him three meals a day – more if she had thought about it. But, no. She'd been too wrapped up in her own little world, dreaming of a future with Archie Andrews. Scowling at her self-involved younger self, Betty looked down at the scattered file and forced herself to refocus. Nostalgia was dangerous. She'd been a kid. She shouldn't beat herself up and goodness knew Jughead would not appreciate her pity.

"Huh," Betty said, unaware she'd even spoken.

"What? What'd you find?"

"Probably nothing. Pop's birth certificate… It was issued a few years after he was born."

"Is that unusual?" Jughead asked, leaning over her shoulder to look.

Veins buzzing at his proximity, Betty fought the urge to either turn into his arms or slip away. Maybe it was a mistake to set up her investigation headquarters in Jughead's apartment. She'd hadn't taken into consideration that the family-like welcome of FP and JB would thaw the frozen cockles of her heart and she had grossly underestimated her ability to ignore her physical attraction to Jughead.

"Generally, birth certificates are issued when someone is born – especially when they're this old. But, they can be lost and replaced or… Altered."

"Can you alter a birth certificate?"

When Jughead's jacket brushed her shoulder, Betty offered him the photocopy just to keep from jumping out of her skin and climbing him like a cat. He took it and wandered to the kitchen counter, grabbing a handful of pretzels to snack on.

"Closed adoptions… Court orders for other reasons…"

Rhythmic buzzing sounded from Betty's coat and she fished out her phone.

"Veronica is inviting us to join her and Archie at Pop's for dinner."

"Maybe Vanessa knows something about the birth certificate… Free milkshake? And maybe I can get a burger before she throws them all out…"

"Sounds good," Betty agreed, shuffling the papers together, arranging them neatly and then pulling on her jacket. It was important that she and Jughead relocate to a public setting. She wasn't sure how long she could suppress the effects of being alone with him.

Betty's was at the door when Jughead stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him, grateful that he took a step back. Did he feel the electricity, too?

"Listen, uh, before you hear it somewhere else…" he said, one hand on his hip while his other hand gestured with embarrassment at the floor.

"You're married," Betty teased.

Jughead huffed, "No, I, uh, I spent some time in jail."

"Oh. Sheriff Keller mentioned that. …Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, wondering what inspired him to share the dirty detail with her.

"Hard no," he said quickly. "But the offer is appreciated."

Grinning, Betty descended the stairs into the bar, Jughead on her heels. Betty waved fondly to FP and tried not to feel too elated that Jughead held the front door open for her.

"Want to ride with me..?" Jug asked, mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Listen, Jug – Jones, I'm only here a week," Betty replied, triggering the Jaguar's keyless entry by slipping her fingers under the handle.

Jughead closed the distance between them, setting Betty's hair on-end. He stood there, a breath from her, and cracked a sardonic smile. Was he going to kiss her? As if thinking the same thing, his gaze flicked to her lips. Suddenly, she was filled with fear. She couldn't fall for him, again.

"I'm not proposing, Betts. It's just a ride," he said with a wink.

Betty slithered away, and popped open the car door.

"Race you there," she dared.

~*~ At the Diner ~*~

Betty and Jughead reached the Diner well before Veronica and Archie, giving them plenty of time to question Vanessa.

With finesse, Betty maneuvered Vanessa into a booth to ask about her father while Jughead, as if he knew his gang-affiliated presence wouldn't help, sat at the counter and ordered.

"I'm working with Sheriff Keller on your father's murder-"

"Why?" Vanessa asked, brows drawn.

"I'm FBI, Vanessa," Betty explained softly, pulling out her badge and setting it on the table between them. Vanessa sat up straighter in the booth, apparently ready to take Betty seriously.

"I noticed that your father's birth certificate was issued four years after he was born."

"Is that strange?"

"It may be nothing. It's unusual for the time but sometimes, it indicates that it's been changed…"

"Why would a birth certificate be changed?" Vanessa asked, twisting an empty straw around her fingers.

"Adoption is the most common reason…" Betty watched Vanessa's expression as she absorbed the information and she noted the moment that Vanessa's mind touched on a connection. "Was your father adopted?"

Tears welled in Vanessa's eyes and she blinked, looking up at the ceiling to contain them.

"It was a family joke… We don't have the 'Tatoes… But I don't think so. At least, if he was adopted, no one ever said so…"

"Tatoes?" Betty repeated with a gentle smile.

"Tate toes. All Tates have these goofy toes – the one next to your big toe and the middle toe are connected tighter than the others. My dad and I don't have them. We joked that he was adopted… If he really was, no one ever said."

Betty nodded. "Thank you, Vanessa. I'll let you know if I find out anything."

Betty pulled her badge off the table just as Archie and Veronica walked through the door. They and Jughead joined Betty in her booth. If Archie had been wearing a letterman jacket, they could have been back in high school…

~*~ After Dinner ~*~

"We must have a chat, Bettykins," Veronica announced as Betty exited the Jaguar and Veronica's limousine pulled around in a wide circle and drove away.

"What's up?" Betty asked wearily. At the diner, she had returned from paying the check to find that Jughead was gone. She hated his silent departure and she hated that it bothered her.

"If you're not interested in Archie, you need to tell him."

Betty blinked rapidly and then narrowed her eyes. "I've never been interested in Archie in that way. Well, not since sophomore year of high school…"

Veronica nodded. "He needs to hear it from you. Didn't you notice him staring at you and laughing hysterically at your every witticism?"

"No," Betty frowned, rolling her shoulders. After the long day, she was ready to shuck her holster and soak in a tub. "Was he really?"

As the pair strolled towards the entrance of Thistlehouse, Veronica nodded with her brows lifted in commiseration. Betty suddenly halted in her steps.

"Is that why Jug left..? Without saying goodbye..?"

"Are you two..?"

"Oh, no. I mean, I'm only here temporarily… I just noticed that he didn't say good-bye."

"Since you brought it up… I went to see Archie this morning. Honestly, I was hoping for a little trip down memory lane but he was, frustratingly, a gentleman and politely turned me down."

"I'm sorry, Vee," Betty said slowly, wondering what made Veronica decide to share that personal tidbit. Was she embarrassed? Or blaming Betty for Archie's behavior?

"Well, I suggested that you and Jughead might have something starting and-"

Betty gasped, "Veronica!"

Veronica held up a manicured hand, signaling that she had more to say.

"And I called Jughead a criminal. Archie firmly corrected me. He said Jughead took the blame for something he did – he went to jail for him."

"Jughead did time for Archie?" Betty repeated, dumbfounded. "Why would he do that?"

"That's all Archiekins would tell me. Maybe you'll have better luck getting it out of him…" Veronica replied airily, floating towards the house.