ghosts // riverdale

[8]

The problem with the big bad wolf being back in town was that wolves travel in packs and little did we know, the one in charge had a following. A large following. These weren't timid wolves nor were they kind, they were bold and vicious. Once they had the taste for blood, a little wasn't enough. Besides them traveling in packs, the most dangerous part about them was that they were resourceful at succeeding in their given missions. They wanted to keep their boss happy and they did what they had to do to make sure that he was.

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A cold breeze tugs at the branches of the trees overhead as Sheriff Keller stands tall, his thick boots heavy against the packed dirt beneath him. Bright red and blue lights flicker in the night sky as loud birds chirp in their hidden homes above. A handful of law enforcement wander up and down the embankment as they wrap neon yellow "caution" tape around the bases of the trees that line the edge of Sweetwater River.

"Who found him?" Sheriff Keller asks one of his officers as he crosses his arms tight against his chest and stares down at the body nearly ten feet in front of him. "Two high school kids," the officer responds. Sheriff Keller nods his head simply as he sucks in a breath of fresh, cold air. He uncrosses his arms as he carefully approaches the body, his eyes wandering for any obvious clues.

"He couldn't have died more than 24 hours ago," Sheriff Keller says as he watches for any obvious signs of trauma. "Are we going to tag this case as a murder or suspicious death?" The officer now behind him asks as he too scans the body up and down. Sheriff Keller presses his lips together as he kneels beside the body, careful not to touch it. "We'll mark it as a suspicious death," Sheriff Keller answers, "for now."

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The bell rattles on the front door of Pop's Diner as black stilettos tap against the shining tiles beneath. Brooke scans the row of booths to her left, searching for a familiar face. While she doesn't exactly find a familiar face, she finds a familiar nape of the neck. One that she herself has dug her nails into. While the nail marks have faded, the slightly peppered dark hair is still the same. Brooke smiles to herself as she steps towards the booth, gliding her fingertips against the backs of the booths as she passes them.

"Thank you for meeting me," Brooke smiles as she slides into the seat across from FP Jones. FP presses his lips into a smile as he gives a small nod. "Sure," he says with a meager shrug of his shoulders. "Have you been keeping up your end of the deal?" Brooke asks as she sets her bag to the side, leaning against her palm as she gazes into his dim eyes.

"Sure," he responds again with another gentle shrug, a small smile spreading across his lips. Brooke licks her bottom lip as she leans back into the booth. "Is all you're going to say to me is sure?" Brooke asks as an attitude bites with her words. FP takes a single sip from his ice water as he glides the damp glass across the table. He doesn't say anything. He just stares back at her.

"I know that you haven't FP," Brooke claims as she keeps her eyes on his. Pop approaches their booth, a warm smile on his face. "And what can I get for a pretty lady like you today?" Pop asks as he pulls a small white notebook from his pocket. "I'll take an ice water too please," Brooke smiles, "thank you." Pop nods his head as the request is so simple he doesn't even bother to write it down. "Of course," Pop grins, "one ice water coming right up."

"FP Jones," Brooke says, her voice low, "spotted tossing whiskey at the Whyte Wyrm. That's only one part of your deal and if that's the most simple part and you still can't agree to it, I'd hate to see your ability to abide by the other parts." FP grits his teeth together as his chest rises and falls slowly. He scratches an itchy part of his chin before responding.