What's Love Got To Do With It?

9.

TW: attempted murder // violence with a deadly weapon.

FP should have gone home and let his team look at the evidence, but he couldn't let go. He needed to be the one to solve this case. How could he possibly go to sleep knowing that the people you had sworn to protect were still in danger?

Everything was spinning around him, so he took a sip of his coffee to get back his focus. Look at the facts, FP. What do you have? There were four victims. One murder. What they had in common? They had all commit a sin. Melinda had a relationship with a woman. Manfred was accused of fraud. Rumor said that Midge had used Jingle Jangle. And Fred? The only thing FP could think of was that he was divorced.

That was another dangerous thing. The Black Hood knew everything about everyone in the town. Clearly, he had this idea of what someone pure had to be like. And nobody in a town like Riverdale fitted that image.

FP sighed and rubbed his eyes, as his board full of Polaroid, news articles and victim or witness statements was making him dizzy. How the fuck was he going to solve this?

But then his eyes fell onto the news paper of last week. The damn picture of himself in his Serpent Jacket. He didn't even know why he still had it. Was it because it was still annoying him to his core that Cooper had the audacity to publish this?

Weeks ago he had received the dead snake in the mail, telling him that the Black Hood knew about his secret. But why hadn't he attacked yet? Not even after he had visited the abandoned house? Was he waiting for him to put the pieces together so he'd die with the knowledge that he couldn't protect the town?

And then the realisation hit him. That article had been written by Hal Cooper. He had taken the picture. He knew he was a Serpent. And the Black Hood did too. FP quickly grabbed the polaroid of the Hawk they had made at SoDale, looking for any kind of detail that would lead them to Hal. This couldn't be a coincidence, right?

If he was right, then he needed to find proof as soon as possible. He couldn't make an assumption about this, certainly not when he had a rivalry with Hal that could blind him from the truth. But it wasn't his anger towards the man that was confusing him.

One search on the internet was all it took. A combination of things he would have never guessed to look for. FP was right. Hal was the Black Hood. How he knew for sure? The big Cooper's Hawk on his screen that matched the sign perfectly. That's why Alice recognized it. It was a family symbol.

The blood disappeared out of his face once he realized where she was. Alice was at home. With a serial killer. If Hal had any clue about their affair, he won't waste long before he'd make her his victim, too.

He sprinted through the other side of the station to the rest of his squad, almost out of breath as he started to order them. This was the most important mission of their life.

"We've got a lead. Hal Cooper is our main suspect now. There is possibly someone in danger, so we're heading to Elm Street, now!"

Nobody questioned his authority. They trusted FP enough. Once they had sprinted to the car, he speed dialed her number. His heart was racing in his chest, feeling like it was about to explode. He could even hear his own heartbeat over the sound of the sirens. What if he was too late? Only the thought of something terrible happening to her was making his stomach turn. They had to be on time.

"Pick up, pick up..." He murmured to himself, his foot anxiously tapping on the car floor as they raced through the street of Riverdale. The phone rang once, twice, three times... but nobody answered. Voicemail. Fucking voicemail. He sighed, but there wasn't another choice than to tell her the truth. If she just heard it on time...