Riverdale: What no one saw coming...

Chapter Forty-Seven

"Cheryl... Did your Dad bury mine?" Betty asked, saving the unrelated small talk. The words stung like venom wen they erupted into the room, destroying all silence. She sat upon a velvet chair in Cheryl's luxury suite, far too superior to be labelled an apartment but not big enough to be called a house. It had the interior of a mansion and the soul of a fresh faced millennial. It was so... Cheryl.

The theme was crimson red, matching her lips, her hair, her fiery personality. Jughead stood beside the chair, hand on its neck. His face hard, he was without his black jacket, his famous crowned beanie returned to its rightful place atop his messy curls. His secret identity stayed hidden from everyone on the North side, well everyone with Betty as the exception.

Cheryl looked up, her glass of gins movement stopping as her hands went stiff.

"What would make you think that?" Cheryl asked.

"He collected my Dads body from the morgue, he had to of done something with it." Betty explained.

"And the fact you had your own personal cemetery highlights our point." Jughead added his voice dry and sarcastic.

"My Dad never buried anything... not since Jason. He would need some form of a mechanical digger, our ground has added sedatives to preserve its shape, meaning its extremely hard to dig up by hand. He would have needed help, none of which happened."

Betty sat puzzled. Then where was her Dad?

"Okay then who took the car?" Jughead asked.

"What car?" Cheryl asked flat. Eyes avoiding the pair.

"Yours Dads range Rover, its not hard to miss." Jughead remarked, sardonic humour his strongest feature.

"Oh yeah that, it was reported stolen. Probably taken by the man who set fire to the house." Cheryl said , blatantly lying.

Betty and Jughead showed an all knowing look. There was no mysterious man dressed in black, only Cheryl's dark subconscious.

"Well then, do you know who the mysterious man was?" Betty said raising her eyebrows at Cheryl.

She sunk further back into her own chair.

"To be honest, I don't know. But for the last few weeks I had my suspicions some one was staying in the house and that my parents were covering it up. I have a feeling whoever it was locked my parents room and made off."

"Why didn't you tell this to the police, Cheryl." Jughead asked, his voice harsh as he rubbed his temples.

"It sort of discredits my story... the police are bus scavenging the towns radius in search for my parents killer, with any look they will find and imprison the dreaded rover stealer."

"How are .. things anyway?" Betty asked, unable to fathom the words.

"I mean when they died , it hurt. But them I rembered every single thing they did to me, to Jason, to everyone and all grief flies out the window faster than he lost his hair." Cheryl's regular quick witted tone never failed her.

"But I mean.. your okay, right?" Betty asked sincerely.

"Definitely." She sat up proud ready to continue.

"They're dead to me."

Betty and Jughead walked out of Cheryl's not so humble abode, Gollum looks plastered on their faces. No new information surrounding their case, if anything they were moving further back.

"Now what? Where do we go from here?" Betty groaned as they reached the secluded road that led from Thornhill.

"I don't know... I suppose we could take a "visit" to the sheriff, see what he's cooking. Or we could focus in on Cheryl as our prime suspect. "