by Micol Ostow
“Yeah, that wiping part was kind of implied,” Jughead said. “Or if it wasn’t explicitly implied, I definitely inferred it. And I don’t think I was being presumptuous.”
“Well, my dad didn’t lie to me or put me off—so, I mean, I guess that’s a good thing,” Archie said, calm again after his sudden outburst. “But Dad also made it very clear that Mayor Lodge said she would handle it, so he doesn’t plan to touch it with a ten-foot pole. Andrews Construction is building the sets for the pageant and doing a bunch of other setup work for the Revels, and he wants to be sure he stays on her good side. We need this gig.” He looked guilty, his deep brown eyes sad and soulful.
“At least he was straight with you,” Jughead said. “He’s in ‘see no evil, hear no evil’ mode. But he’s not, like, just pretending evil completely doesn’t exist.”
“Yeah. I mean, he was shot. And not too long ago. So I think his days of denying evil are kind of over. That’s a pretty hard one to get past.” Archie’s eyes burned white-hot steel. I knew he hadn’t gotten past his father’s brush with the Black Hood, either.
“Shot, right,” Betty said. Her voice rang with guilt and remorse. “By my dad. Who, at the very least, is in jail right now, so he hasn’t had the chance to lie to me about what the hell is going on.” She gave a cynical grin. “There truly is a bright side to everything.” The grin faded as quickly as it had appeared. “My mom, on the other hand, is in complete denial. It must be something in the Riverdale water.”
“Or the maple syrup,” I said, only half kidding. (A quarter.)
“Yeah, and normally, this is the kind of juicy scandal my mom would be all over,” Betty pointed out. “Especially now that she’s at WRIV. It’s extra shady that she couldn’t care less about investigating this. Not for her show. Not for her own curiosity.” She tilted her head and held her hands up, the universal gesture for nothing. “She claims she’s busy with the Farm. I’m not sure I buy it.”
“Betty,” Jughead said, low and gentle, “the thing is, she has been super wrapped up in that stuff lately. I know it kills you. But … I do kind of buy it. Even though I don’t like it.”
“Ugh, I know you’re right,” Betty admitted, reluctant. “I guess I’d rather she be obsessed with a new body than with the Farm. Potentially the lesser of two evils. Is that twisted?”
“Oh, come now,” Jughead said, picking up her hand in his and kissing it. “This is Riverdale. We’ve basically redefined the meaning of the word ‘twisted.’ This barely registers on the meter.”
“So, what now?” Betty asked, shaking off whatever lingering ennui she was feeling about her mother’s most recent weirdness and snapping back into productive mode. “I mean, we have to investigate.”
“We do,” I said. “But.”
“V. There was a body in a maple barrel. There can be no ‘buts.’ ”
“There can be one very valid ‘but,’ which is that our parents told us to leave this alone. And even if we have no intention of doing so—”
“Which we do not,” she confirmed, emphatic.
“Even if that’s true,” I continued smoothly, “or rather, especially if that’s true, then there needs to be some subterfuge involved. Some low-key attempt to look like we’re listening to them. Otherwise they’ll be all over us, and in our way, making it infinitely harder to uncover anything.”
Betty considered it. “That’s actually an excellent point, V,” she admitted. “Pretending to behave will keep them off our trail.”
“Besides,” Archie said, “Veronica and I totally have your back—we’ll run point whenever you need us to—but honestly, you and Jug are the sleuths of our group. We all know that. You’re the mystery-solving A-team. You guys sniff around, tell us what you find, and give us our marching orders. We’ll be in, we promise.” He looked at me. “Right?”
“OMG, of course,” I said quickly. “We’ve got your back, total ride-or-die. You know that. But I do think that in the meantime, it would be prudent for Archie and me to go along with our regularly scheduled duties: me coaching Kevin, and whatever else needs doing in the lead-up to the Revels. Archie helping his dad. Plus, we’re both official sponsors of the Revels. So we really need to play at normalcy. Which, sadly, kind of is par for the course for us, around here.”
Everyone nodded solemnly at that. It was pretty indisputable.
“We were already covering the whole thing for the Blue and Gold,” Betty said. “We’ll just cover it a little more … intensively. And a lot less objectively.”
“All right, then.” Jughead stood, shrugging his Serpents jacket on and pulling his hat down into place. “Ready, Watson?”
“Oh, please,” I laughed. “If anything, Betty is the Holmes of your duo.”
Betty smiled. “I appreciate the sentiment, V.” She stood and slipped into her own powder-pink peacoat. “But if I’m anyone other than Betty Cooper in this scenario, I’m Nancy Drew.”
“Touché, B.” With the seedlings of a nascent plan in place, we split up. It was time to divide—and, with any luck, conquer.
Hermione Lodge:
Hi. Just checking in to be sure we’re on track for the pageant set construction to begin tomorrow morning?
Fred Andrews:
8 a.m. sharp.
Hermione Lodge:
And there won’t be any issues, given what happened at today’s ceremony?
Fred Andrews:
None on my end. You’ll let me know if anything comes up for you?
Hermione Lodge:
Of course. We’re investigating the issue as we speak. And I appreciate your discretion. Perhaps we can find some room in the budget to improve your fee.
Fred Andrews:
Not necessary, Madam Mayor, but I’m not too proud to accept. Gratefully.
Hermione Lodge:
Of course. Everyone in Riverdale is just so impressed with your dedication to our hometown.
Fred Andrews:
What can I say? Our hometown is my home.
Hermione Lodge:
Alice, I hope you don’t mind my being in touch. With regards to the … wrinkle we experienced at the time capsule opening earlier this evening.
Alice Cooper:
“Wrinkle”—is that what we’re calling it? Spectacular.
Hermione Lodge:
Well, Alice, that’s why I’m reaching out. To be completely honest, we don’t know WHAT to call it just yet. Which is why I think it would be downright inappropriate if you were to report on the event before we have a full understanding of the situation.
Alice Cooper:
Until you have your ducks in a row, you mean. Relax, Madam Mayor. Believe it or not, for once, I couldn’t care less about the latest scandal to plague this godforsaken town. I’ve got other things to worry about.
Hermione Lodge:
Do I even want to ask?
Alice Cooper:
When have you ever? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Hermione.
Veronica:
Bravo, Mom. I can’t begin to imagine what your endgame is here, with metaphorically burying the bones in the time capsule, but it looks like you’ve gotten what you wanted. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.
Hermione Lodge:
Mija, despite the fact that I owe you zero explanations, I’d be happy to show you Curdle Jr.’s report myself. Until then, I strongly suggest you reconsider how you speak to your mother.
Veronica:
Believe me, I’ve given it plenty of consideration.
Hermione Lodge:
I have the reports. Everything’s perfect. Thanks for taking care of this.
Hiram Lodge:
I promised you, didn’t I, mi amor?
Toni:
Hot Dog’s good to go and ready for his close up? Jughead told me to check in.
Sweet Pea:
Uh, yeah, MOM. I think I got it.
Sweet Pea:
The dog’s been washed and brushed and looking forward to h
is moment in the spotlight.
Sweet Pea:
Fangs even got him a new leash for the occasion.
Toni:
Perf. I’ll take lots of pics.
Sweet Pea:
Tell me you haven’t started an Instagram. Not exactly Serpent-style.
Toni:
I haven’t … but I kinda LOVE that idea.
JUGHEAD
In the absence of a single, solitary lead on the body in the maple barrel (only in Riverdale, my friends, only in Riverdale), Betty and I figured the next best thing to do would be to start by going straight to … well, if not necessarily the source, then a source at least: Pop Tate, a man whose persona embodied the soul of our town more than maybe any other of our founding families.
Besides—he was the one who’d given Archie’s dad the map for excavating the time capsule in the first place. Institutional knowledge was a powerful thing.
Pop seemed to know a little bit about everything, particularly when it came to Riverdale, and Betty and I were hoping that this would be as true of the time capsule, and the history of the Revels, as it was for anything else.
Betty had study hall during third period, and I had English, which I was doing well enough in that I felt okay ducking out just this once, in the name of something inarguably more important.
“Besides,” I told Betty, “we were assigned the job of covering the Revels for the Blue and Gold by Principal Weatherbee himself. Isn’t this just an extension of that, really? Which means that it’s essentially a school project. And since it’s journalism, I think it’s basically just another form of English class.”
“Wow, Jug,” Betty said, feigning at impressed. “Well done. And here we thought Hermione Lodge was the one who was good with spin.”
“Not bad, right? I try.”
We had just parked my motorcycle and were standing outside Pop’s, contemplative. “This is only a recon mission, Juggie,” Betty said, tightening her ponytail and fixing her gaze.
“Yep,” I said, taking her hand. “Let’s go fishing.”
Inside, it was quiet—a few cars in the driveway and some booths filled with retirees grabbing a late breakfast. Pop registered our arrival with an inscrutable look, like he’d been expecting it, yes, but he wasn’t sure whether he was happy about it. Generally speaking, Pop seemed to think Betty and I were determined to get ourselves killed, the way we insisted on poking our noses anywhere things didn’t smell quite right in Riverdale. And maybe he was right. We’d sure come close enough, plenty of times.
“Hey, Pop,” I said, giving him my best “winning” smile.
“Jughead and Betty. Please tell me you’re here for a milk shake and some fries.”
“Pop, it’s ten fifteen in the morning,” Betty said.
“Which, normally, is the perfect time for a burger, Pop. And believe me, I’d never want to say no to an offer like that. But alas, as I’m sure you suspect, based on the look on your face, we’ve got some other fish to fry right now.” I stepped in to clarify the purpose of our visit, but even as I declined the offer of food, my stomach gave a grumble. I glanced at Betty. “I mean … we can fry fish and drink a milk shake, right?”
She grinned. “I’m still full from breakfast, Jug—but I know you can.”
“Other fish to fry, huh?” Pop asked as he moved to get started on my milk shake. Betty and I settled ourselves in at the counter.
“Or rather, other maple barrels to tap,” Betty quipped. Her expression, though, belied her playful tone. “Specifically, bone-stuffed barrels connected to a tradition that was apparently near and dear to this town’s settlers—and yet, is somehow missing from the pages of every local history book.”
My girl liked to get straight to the point. It was one of my many favorite things about her.
“Are you kids sure you can’t find some other way to have fun?” Pop asked, shaking his head. His tone was light, but I knew he was worried.
“Pop, you know you love us just the way we are,” I said. “This is how we have fun.”
He sighed and began to wipe down the counter. “You kids—you’re asking for trouble. If the mayor says the barrel was a prank, why can’t you believe it?”
“Because it would be the most random prank ever. Because fake dead bodies in a town that has an unexpectedly high body count aren’t funny. Because supposedly the Revels were this whole big thing, like, forever, but not even Cheryl Blossom—who knows everything about Riverdale’s history—has ever heard of them.” Betty ticked her reasons off on her fingers as she listed them.
I nodded, patting her on the shoulder. “I think that about covers it.”
Pop took a deep breath. He leaned forward on the counter, looking right at us. “Okay,” he started. “So let’s say you’re right. Let’s say it wasn’t a prank. No one knows who it is or even how old the body is. No clue. And meanwhile, the coroner himself is calling it a fake. The mayor has the report.”
I winced. He made a point. “She did flat-out offer Veronica a look at them.”
“You know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe she forged them,” Betty countered. “Or had someone else forge them for her. Maybe she’s calling Veronica’s bluff.”
“Okay. But why?” I persisted, playing devil’s advocate. “If those bones are real—Betty, you saw them. You know the condition they were in. If they are real, whoever that was in the barrel is long dead. What the hell would they have to do with Hermione?”
Betty looked at me. “I have no idea,” she admitted. “But still, something doesn’t add up.”
“Why does no one in this town understand that the best thing to do when a dead body is discovered is to get as far away from it and whatever made it dead as you possibly can?” Pop sounded exasperated.
“Because we’ve learned that the secrets that people keep in this town literally kill,” I said.
“And because in this town, that’s impossible to do,” Betty added. “Pop, you should know as well as anyone. The Black Hood shot Fred Andrews right here. You mopped up the blood yourself.”
Pop took this in, his face growing even more grave, if that were even possible. I couldn’t say what was going on in his head, but he seemed to be coming to a decision of some kind. “You two really don’t believe that it was a prank?”
“I don’t,” Betty said. “We don’t.”
“It is extremely suspicious,” I agreed.
“And you don’t have any leads?”
“You were our first stop. You always know everything about the history of this town—even the things Cheryl somehow misses. Didn’t you tell me once about how you served Madonna and her entourage in that booth there”—I pointed—“back in the eighties?”
He smiled. “Might have.”
“Exactly.”
Betty’s eyes lit up. “And you and FP! Just yesterday you were talking about how some of our parents—or, you know some adults, anyway—were eager to bring back the Revels. Even though it seemed as though no one even knew about the Revels in the first place.”
“Betty,” Pop said, slow and measured, “if no one knew about the Revels, how did anyone know to bring them back?” He peered at her and then turned away, walking toward a corner booth with a fresh-brewed pot of coffee.
“He’s right. Someone knew. Maybe a few someones.” Betty looked at me. “We have to figure out who it was—who lobbied to reinstate the Revels. Can we ask your dad?”
I shook my head emphatically. “That’s a nonstarter. As soon as he got the word from Mayor Lodge this morning, he told me: That’s their story, and they’re sticking to it. Even if there is some massive cover-up going on, we’re not going to get anything else about the Revels from him.”
“Pop’s right, though,” Betty insisted. “Someone knew something. I think we just have to dig deeper.”
I looked at her. “Anything on file about the town history would be at the library.”
“Well, then, I guess that should be our next stop,” Be
tty said, decisive.
Pop looked satisfied as he came back to the counter. “I suppose that’s where I’d go, too. But after school,” he added knowingly.
I put down some money for my milk shake, and Betty and I hopped down from our stools. “Then I suppose that’s where we’ll go,” I said. “After school, of course.”
We were so caught up in the possibility of a new lead that when we stepped out the door of the diner, we immediately collided with a tangle of limbs and catering trays.
“Oh god—we’re so sorry—” Betty started. She cut off abruptly when she realized who was holding the tower of aluminum in her outstretched arms. “Evelyn?” She got cooler and pulled back just the slightest bit.
There was no love lost between the two girls, and I didn’t blame Betty one bit.
But why was Evelyn here, now, in the middle of the school day, carrying a metric ton of aluminum trays in her scrawny arms?
“Big party at the Farm?” Betty asked, raising an eyebrow. “Getting some Pop’s takeout? Given how much you guys like sharing chores and stuff, I would’ve thought you’d do all the cooking together.”
Evelyn gave Betty a small, patient smile. “You’re right at that, Betty. We do generally prepare all our meals together. Cooking is such a wonderful way to build a sense of community, after all. But this is for the Revels. We’re helping Pop prepare canapés. You know, for Cocktails and Canapés on Friday? A few of us Farmies volunteered to help with the event. Transporting supplies, working as sous-chefs, setting up on the day of. You know, that sort of thing. I was just dropping these trays off for Pop. So we have them when the food prep is done.”