CALAMITY
xi.
14.
( guilty until proven innocent )
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THREE DAYS AFTER being released from the hospital, Delilah sat in bed - propped up by two pillows - and closed her book with a sad sigh. Reading was an easy escape, a quick route out of the real world whenever she needed a breather (which was a lot, she'd admit) but Delilah knew it was much more than for enjoyment. She was avoiding something. Or rather, someone. The situation would have to come to pass at some point, but for now, Dellah was just too much of a coward to confront her fears.
A soft knock at the door jolted her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see who would enter when she replied "Come in."
Delilah had been expecting her young friend bearing news of Jughead and his father, but it was Betty's mother who entered instead. She came over with a tray, setting it on bed gently. "I made you some hot chocolate."
"Thank you," Delilah smiled, lifting the white cup and bringing it to her lips so she could taste Alice's legendary home made hot chocolate. "I was wondering if I could possibly leave the house today," she said, putting the cup down.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Alice queried gently. "You don't want to risk putting any more strain on your hand."
"It's been three days, and it feels fine. I just want to visit Jughead, that's all." Delilah admitted quietly.
"I don't think that's a good idea." Alice replied stiffly.
"I know how you feel about him Alice, but he's a good person."
"It's not him that's my concern." Delilah knew Alice's real problem lay with FP.
"His father didn't murder Jason Blossom."
"And how do you know that?"
Delilah shrugged, focusing on the flower pattern on the duvet. "Many people believe him to be a drug addict and alcoholic - which I can't deny - but I know for a fact that FP Jones is not an evil man."
"Delilah, honey, we'd all like to believe that - for Jughead's sake at least - but you can't deny the evidence. The gun was found in his trailer." Alice put a comforting hand on Delilah's unbanadaged one.
"That doesn't mean he's the culprit." Delilah argued, moving the tray to get out of bed. "Anyone could've planted the gun there while he was out, to make him look guilty." She moved to change into the only clothes that she hadn't destroyed in her rampage. She flung an old jumper over her t-shirt and hurried into a pair of unwashed jeans.
"Delilah...he admitted it."
"What?" She paused in the middle of tying the laces of her trainers.
"Last night. He confessed."
She didn't hear any words after that.
Jughead.
That's all Delilah was thinking as she ran out of the room, out of the house and down the streets - all the way to the station.
"I need to speak to FP Jones," she declared, out of breath, to the secretary at the desk.
The woman looked her up and down with distaste. "I'm not sure that-"
"Please," Delilah begged. "It's important."
"Delilah Evans?" She whipped round to see Sheriff Keller.
"Sheriff, I'd like to see Mr Jones - if I may. I'm a-a friend of Jughead's." she stumbled over the word friend. Not anymore. She had kind of put a stop to their 'friendship' at homecoming, hadn't she? "I won't be long, I just need to talk to him - please."
"Five minutes," Sheriff Keller relented, and Delilah nearly hugged the man. "Cell 14."
"Thank you!" She practically ran to the holding cell, itching with questions that needed to be answered. When she got to the cell, she immediately saw him; his head clutched in his hands, eyes focused on the floor. He looked up as she approached, and she forced herself to keep walking until she was three steps away from the white bars. "We need to talk."
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"Well if there's one person I wasn't expecting to visit, it was you," FP looked confused as he, like the receptionist had, assessed her from head to toe. She squirmed under his gaze, keeping her expression neutral as she, in turn, looked upon his unshaven face. "Come to talk on behalf of your aunt?"
Delilah shook her head. "Alice didn't send me."
"What can I do for you then, Miss Evans?"
"I need to know why you confessed," she jumped straight into it, not wanting to waste any time.
"Well, here's the thing, if a guilty suspect confesses - he usually gets a lesser punishment if he tells the truth." He said with an over exaggerated smile.
Delilah fought the urge to roll her eyes. "But here's the thing," she smiled right back, using his words. "You're not guilty."
"And what makes you think that?"
"Because you are a lot of things, Mr Jones, but murderer is not one of them." He didn't reply, and Delilah took a deep breath to continue. "I believe that you love your son very much - and whether he shows it or not he loves you too. You're one of the few things he has left, and you know it. I don't think you'd be dumb enough to screw up the relationship between you and Jughead more than you already have," she paused as FP stood from where he was sat on the stiff bed attached to the wall. "But I have to say, confessing is the easy route."
"Excuse me?"
"You're safe that way, you spend however many years in here - away from all the stress and effort of having to look after a teenage boy."
"Are you saying I'm doing this to get out of being a father?" He narrowed his eyes. "You literally just said I love him."
"Yeah, you do. But that doesn't mean you enjoy taking on the role of a responsible adult."
"That's not why I'm in here." He gave her a cold glare, dismissing her idea.
"Then why are you, Mr Jones? I'm not the enemy, I can help you, if you just tell me who did it."
"It was me," FP said with hard resolve, and Delilah instantly knew he wasn't going to give information willingly.
"Alright. Let's go back to Jughead. How do you think he feels about all this? You're the only parent who stuck around this long - you're gonna bail on him now?"
FP shook his head and carried a new irritated tone to his voice. "I'm not bailing on anyone. I made a mistake. This one's gonna cost me more, that's all."
"You regret killing Jason?" If he wasn't going to reveal the real killer straight away, she'd at least try and pick as many holes in his story as possible.
"I don't think his absence from this world is a great loss. He was a good kid, but in the end he was raised by the wrong parents."
"You have a grudge against the Blossoms?"
"Who doesn't have a grudge against those people? Evil runs in their blood."
"You're saying he deserved to die because of the family he was born into?"
"What are you doing here Delilah? Planning on becoming a cop or something? Sorry to break it to you, but I already had my interrogation. You really want to know anything - try speaking to your buddy, Keller. Since he was willing to let you speak to me, why not give you my whole files?"
She rolled her eyes at his patronising tone. With arms folded she stared him down. "Alright, I give up. You can stay in here and rot in this cell for all I care. But do not think for one instant that I'm going to let you drag Jughead down with you." She decided she was wasting her time, and turned on her heel to leave the vicinity of FP Jones.
"I'm sorry about your parents, Delilah. I didn't think he'd allow innocent people to die just to keep his secret." FP's words caused her to spin right round. Her face ashen, she managed to string a few words together.
"W-who?" She took a few steps forwards, closer to the cell bars again. When FP didn't answer she wrapped her hands around the bars, wishing she could reach inside and strangle the man who was just stood, smirking. "Who killed them?!"
"Time's up!" Sheriff Keller stood at the end of the corridor. Delilah looked between him and FP frantically. The sheriff was walking towards her, and she knew she wasn't going to get any of the information that she needed. "Delilah," his voice was firm. "I gave you five minutes but you need to leave now."
Delilah gave FP one last glance, and as she was about to pull her hands away he grabbed them with his own. The movement sent a shiver down her spine as he leaned closer, bringing his lips to her ear. "Those closest to you may be hiding more secrets than you know. Trust nobody." Then he let go and was sitting back in his seat, and Delilah knew she had to leave - before she did anything stupid.
She practically ran through the corridor, murmuring a quick "thank you" to the sheriff before exiting the station, relishing in the soft breeze that blew across her face once she'd escaped the building. She focused on steadying her breathing - she was not going to break down again. Not here. So she set off down the road with a slight sway to her steps, but nonetheless a deep fire burning in her heart as she attempted to still the storm raging in her mind.
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"Where the heck have you been?!" Once Delilah walked through the door she was pounced on by Betty, who shook her by the shoulders and started firing questions instantaneously. "Mom said you just ran out - we've been so worried about you!"
"I'm sorry," Delilah answered, and she genuinely was. "I just had to-"
"Delilah!" She was interrupted by Alice, who, upon seeing Delilah safe and sound, embraced her in a firm hug. Betty stepped out of the way as her mother chastised Delilah. "What on earth possessed you to do such a thing?"
"I'm sorry Alice," Delilah hung her head. "I- I wasn't thinking."
"No you most certainly weren't!"
"But Alice, I spoke to Mr Jones-"
"I told you he's bad news," Alice glared.
"I know, but listen! He knew the truth about my parents-"
"The truth? Delilah you know the truth."
"Mom, stop interrupting her," Betty said, seeing Delilah getting more agitated by the moment. Delilah nodded to her gratefully then continued.
"He said someone else was involved - that a he killed them to keep his secrets! He didn't say who this man was but FP said people close to me may be hiding secrets!"
"You listen to me right now!" Alice grabbed hold of Delilah's shoulders, forcing her to meet her eyes. "Your family died in a tragic accident. An accident, that's all it was. Mr Jones is a spiteful and vindictive man; he'll do anything to tear people like you apart because that's who he is." Even as Alice spoke, Delilah was shaking her head.
"But what if you're wrong? What if it's all a lie, and that fire didn't start accidentally?"
"Delilah, you need to let this go," there was a warning tone to Alice's voice now.
"I'm sorry, Alice. But I can't do that," she gave her a sad smile, shaking her hands off her shoulders and walking towards the stairs. Betty followed her silently as Delilah walked to her room.
"Do you really believe what he said?" she asked gently, once Delilah was sat at her desk.
Delilah shrugged. "What reason would he have to lie?"
"I don't know. But are you sure you should listen to him? He's been arrested for murder - and even if he didn't pull the trigger, he was involved in the murder, or at least knew about it. That means he could still spend significant time behind bars."
"I want to believe that it was an accident, that they died because it was their time to die - not that someone wanted them gone. I can't explain it, but someone feels off about it, has felt off since the night it happened. I always knew there was something more - and now Mr Jones says there is... I need closure, Betty. Surely you understand that?" She looked at her, her blue eyes full of fear, and sadness, and the truth that Delilah couldn't do this alone. Betty nodded, her own eyes filling with tears at seeing her best friend so vulnerable. FP's words played like a broken record inside Delilah's head: Trust nobody, trust nobody, trust nobody, trust- But if Delilah couldn't trust Betty then she has no one else. She shook off the voice and said to her best friend. "Will you help me?"
Betty heard everything else that came with those four words; will you stay? Or leave like everybody else?
"Of course. Whatever it takes," she pulled Delilah into a hug, neither of them needing to say anything else. But Delilah had heard Betty's real answer: I'll stay.
And that was all that really mattered.