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Jughead Jones

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Jughead Jones

"AND IN THAT MOMENT OF HESITATION, YOU'RE DEAD. ALL OF YOU ARE DEAD"

Dilton warned his Boy Scouts sternly. Spotting me, he jumped in surprise.

"At ease, Doiley. I'm writing an article for the Blue and Gold. Hoping you can help," I reassured him. Dilton turned to his boys and barked, "Dismissed. But stay close." The scouts scattered.

"Cheryl and Archie both claim they heard a gunshot on the morning of July 4th, but they don't know who fired," I continued.

"Sheriff Keller already asked me about this," Dilton interjected quickly. "And like I told him, my Scouts and I didn't hear anything unusual."

I pursed my lips and stepped closer. "Well, did you see anything unusual?"

"A white-winged crossbill. A long-eared owl," Dilton replied thoughtfully. "Oh, and Cheryl, sitting by the river, soaking wet."

There was this one scout who kept eyeing me while I talked to Dilton. Later, when I spotted him at Pop's and saw his dad leave, I approached quietly and swiped the cherry off his sundae before sitting down across from him.

"What the hell, man?" he exclaimed, holding his hands up in surprise.

"I saw the way you looked at me during Grizzly training. You're hiding something," I pointed out.

"It's Scoutmaster Doily. He's lying," the boy blurted out.

"About what?" I asked, leaning in.

"The gunshot. It was him. He was teaching us how to shoot targets," he explained.

"Dilton Doiley shot the gun on July 4th?" I clarified.

"Yeah, he's a hardcore survivalist. He says if we don't protect ourselves, no one will"  the boy nodded earnestly.

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