Redemption [Sweet Pea x OC]

Chapter 37

I left the school, spending the afternoon with the Ghoulies, digging for information, once again coming up empty. The good news though, was that Dwight was still missing, and Darla wouldn't be making her way to Riverdale anytime soon. Dwight had taken her car when he disappeared, meaning it was not sunk in the swamp.

On the way home, I stopped by the Jones trailer to update FP. As usual, Jughead was typing away on his computer, oblivious to us in the kitchen. "You're doing good," FP said. "It's a lot to balance," FP said.

I sighed, leaning against the counter. "Serpents, Ghoulies, Chic, Lodge, and school. I don't know what you're talking about, that's only 5 things," I said sarcastically.

"You're gonna burn yourself out if you're not careful, Babygirl," FP said. "Have you told Sweet Pea about it?"

"He knows about everything but the Ghoulies," I said, looking down. "I can't do that to him."

"He's gonna find out sometime," FP said quietly. "If you won't tell him now, at least let him take care of you right now. That boy's wrapped around your little finger."

I smiled, knowing he was right. Malachai and the others would be released in the next few months and when they did, everything would come crashing down. Why not enjoy this time with Sweet Pea while I still could?

The sound of Jughead slamming his computer shut got our attention. "Hiram's gonna beat the clock," he said to no one in particular. "Feels like every step I make, he's two or ten steps ahead of me. He's lapping me!"

"He's been winning at this game a lot longer than you've been alive," FP said, walking into the living room.

"Yeah, because he's been rigging the game and everyone's too afraid to come out and speak against him," Jughead snapped.

FP sighed. "You know, uh...there's one person you haven't asked to go on record yet."

"Who?" Jughead asked, glancing at me.

"Me," FP said. " You know, back in the day, Hiram asked me and the Serpents to trash the drive-in so he could buy it for rock-bottom price. We complied."

"On purpose?" Jughead gasped. "You worked for Hiram Lodge?"

"Don't look so shocked, Jug," I said. "We all know Lodge doesn't like getting his hands dirty, so he pays someone else to do it for him. And a job is a job."

FP nodded. "I'll own up to that. On the record, if it'll help bring him down."

Jughead leaned forward for his computer, picking up his phone instead as it began ringing. FP and I waited as he listened to whoever it was on the other end.

"Who was that?" FP asked when Jughead lowered the phone.

"I have no idea," he said. "But you may not have to go on record just yet. I'll see you guys later, I've gotta get to the bus station."

"What? Why?" FP demanded.

"Whoever it was that just called, they have information about Hiram Lodge. Are you coming with me?"

"I'll go," I said, standing.

"I have to get ready for my shift at Pop's," FP said, standing as well. "Keep me updated."

The bus station emptied soon after Jughead and I got there, the waiting bus for Rochester would be leaving soon. I nodded toward the man reading the newspaper on the bench, letting Jughead take a seat behind him while I idly flipped through some travel brochures in the corner as the last of the stragglers made their way out to the bus.

"I don't have much time," the man said without turning around.

"Are you Deep Throat?" Jughead asked. I raised an eyebrow, wondering when he'd come up with that name.

"You've been calling everyone in town for information about Hiram Lodge, but not me. That's why I called you." I stayed silent, afraid the man would stop talking if he knew I was there.

"No offense," Jughead said, glancing at me. "But how does a bus driver have insider information on Hiram Lodge?"

"I used to be someone else," the man replied, turning around in his seat. "Someone who was privy to Hiram Lodge's personal affairs. Someone who suffered at his whims."

"What kind of personal affairs?" I asked, stepping forward. He knew I was here now, there was no point in pretending I wasn't listening.

"I coordinated transportation for Mr Lodge, sometimes out to Shankshaw Prison," the man answered. "He also received mail from the warden there."

"Shankshaw?" Jughead questioned. "That's not where Hiram Lodge served time."

"I'm afraid that's all I have for you," the man said.

"That's it?" Jughead and I asked together. He could have told Jughead to look into Shankshaw over the phone. Why meet in person?

"One more thing," the man said. "A question. Miss Veronica, how's she faring through all this?"

"I'll let you answer that one," I told Jughead. "I'm gonna get some fresh air." Once outside, I leaned my back against the building, waiting on Jughead. What was the connection between Lodge and the warden at Shankshaw? I didn't have long to think about it before Jughead came out.

"Come on, let's get to Pop's," Jughead said. "We need to talk to my dad."

The diner was mostly empty due to how late it was, which was perfect for us. Jughead and I sat at the counter, FP on the other side, ready to help any customers who came in.

"So, Hiram Lodge's master plan has something to do with your old stomping ground, Shankshaw," Jughead said. "I tried calling the warden a dozen times but he hasn't called me back."

"That corrupt son of a bitch," FP muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, he may not have called you back because you called his office a dozen times back to back and it's nearly midnight. If you really want to get answers from him, track down his cell number and call that."

"Don't give him any ideas, Babygirl," FP pleaded.

"He's your son," I said with a grin. "You should have taught him some patience."

"I don't have time to be patient right now," Jughead protested. "Do we have any contacts on the inside that might know something?"

FP nodded. "Yeah, War Baby. He knows everybody's business."

"Can we get in to see him?" Jughead asked.

"We can go tomorrow," FP said. "Still avoiding the prison?" he asked me.

"Yup," I said. "And, I'd rather not risk seeing some of the other inmates. So, have fun and tell War Baby I said hi. I'm going home."

I let myself into the trailer quietly, smiling as I saw Sweet Pea sprawled out on the bed, asleep. He didn't move until I climbed in next to him, his arms wrapping around me tightly. "Where have you been all day?" he mumbled.

"School, not school, the Jones' trailer, the bus station, and Pop's," I answered, resting my head on his chest.

"You need a break," Sweet Pea said, kissing the top of my head. "Go to sleep right now and we'll figure something out tomorrow."