Archie & Reggie Meet Jughead

“Why the hell do I have talk with him in the room?”

Sheriff Steel looked at Reggie, bemused.  “Why not?  You scared of him?”

“Do I need to get a lawyer?”

“I don’t know, Reggie.  Do you?  You got something you want to hide from us?”

“Hell, no!  You’re the one who should be afraid.  You misstep, and I’ll have your job.  You can’t be so ignorantus that you don’t know that.”

“Maybe I am, Reggie.  I’m just a stupid country boy, doing the best that I can.”

“So he’s here cuz you a stupid country boy?”

“That’s right!  You nailed the hammer on the head!  He knows about the accounting shenanigans you and your brother did, and since I can’t keep that numbers stuff straight to save my life, he’s keeping me on track.”

“He can’t tell you shit!  We got like confidentialities and stuff”

Gariton cleared his throat and spoke up.  “We’re required to answer inquires made by the proper authorities using the proper channels.  I am also ethically obligated to report clearly illegal activities.”

Reggie was taken aback.  He thought that CPAs were like lawyers and preists – they had to keep confidences.  “Don’t you at least have to come to me first, or an attorney or something?  Why go straight to this jackass?”

“Because I didn’t go straight to him.  I asked House about it first, and he didn’t respond.  Then I consulted an attorney, a one Thomas Cooper.  And if you hadn’t caught the memo, I’ve been arrested for murder, and I have responsibility to answer the Sheriff’s question, and a desire to bring forth whatever exculpatory evidence I can find.”

Reggie looked antsy.  Was he feeling trapped, or did he just want a smoke?  “Just ask your stupid questions so I can get out of here and back to doing stuff that matters.”

Gariton asked, “Why did you recently donate $250,000 to the biology lab of the University of Florida, the same lab where Dr. David Rowell was researching a plant sent to him by Kelly Mavis, in what may have been his last act before he went missing?”

“Hell, now I can’t be charitable?  Go Gators!”

“Pretty generous donation for a dyed in the wool Bulldog fan, Reggie,” said Sheriff Steel.

“And for someone whose previous largest donation, going back at least ten years, was a hundred dollar donation to Duck Unlimited done in 2009,” said Gariton.

“So what?  I can give to who I want!”  Reggie defiantly thrust out his jaw.

“Especially if it helps you seal a deal worth multi-millions.  You also paid Dr. David Rowell a substantial fee to be the environmental consultant on your new Compton Parks project.”

Reggie chortled.  “Hell, why not?  If he was good enough for Kayak Kelly, why wouldn’t he be good enough for us?  Don’t you want us to be environmentally consciousable?”

“I’d be happy if you had any kind of conscience, Reggie,” answered the Sheriff.

“I’ll leave it to the Sheriff to tie out what these transactions may mean for you legally, Mr. Crowley.  It’s not for me to speculate as to whether this ties in with the disappearance of Kayak Kelly, and the subsequent discovery of his body,” said Gariton.

“He went out into the swamp once too much is all,” Reggie replied.  “Odds just caught up with him.  Probably high on that Mary G Wanna he and that Billy Heart friend of his were always toking.  Besides, you just sniffing the wrong butts.  There weren’t no signs of foul play, were there?  Seems to me I heard at least that much, from people jabbering about it down at the Honey Dew.”

Everyone was quiet for a second.  It made Reggie nervous.  “Are we done here?  Can we go now?  I got some Japs coming in this afternoon, wanting a contract for some special origami paper or some such shit.”

Gariton quietly asked, “Who are the Weatherbee Exterminators?”

Reggie started to sweat.  “Beats me.  Sounds like pest control.”

“You don’t have any idea who they are?” asked Gartion.

“No.  Is that a big surprise?  I’m the goddamn owner.  I ain’t no micro-manager.  I don’t know all our vendors, I don’t personally make out all the checks.”

“But you do approve the invoices of those over $5,000.  And you sign the checks,” responded Gariton.

“You think I personally sign the checks?  Boy, you ain’t as bright an accountant as you think you are, are you?  I got a machine that does that.”

“I figured you were smarter than that, Reggie.  I thought you were watching things closer than that.  Didn’t know it would be so easy to pull one over on you,” chimed in the Sheriff.  “Pest control, huh?  What size pests you got at that mill, Reggie?  You got a raptor problem?”

Gariton began again before “Thirteen checks over the last year, several for $9,995, the amount just below the $10,000 deposit threshold that would trigger greater scrutiny.  One for that amount was given just a few days after Kelly Mavis’s disappearance.  Another was given after the police began searching the Mavis cabin. And another was given just after the murder of Rondy Strickland.”

“Is this some crappy game of coincidences?  It means nothing, except I am apparently spending way too much money on something.”

“Weatherbee Exterminators,” mused Gariton.  “Interesting name. Were your parents into Archie Comics?”

“I’ve had it,” yowled Reggie, turning to Sheriff Steel.  “If he stays, I go.”

“No, seriously, think about it.  I tried to find them.  They got no office.  Can’t find them on Google, except for their incorporation.  They’re just a post office box,” said Gariton. 

“Well, whoop de doo,” sneered Reggie.

“And then I thought about it.  You and your brothers names are Archie & Reggie, just like the characters in the comic books.  I mean, really, I know they’re not brothers in the comics, but isn’t that interesting?  And isn’t your wife Elizabeth, which is sometimes shortened to Betty?  And wasn’t Archie married briefly to a Ronnie, which could be a nickname for Veronica?”

Reggie was ready to blow a gasket.  “This is stupid!  And who are you two?  Moose and Jughead?  Your little ‘helper’ is starting to slip his area of expertise, and has done moved in to Looney Tune territory!”

“Oh!’ said Gariton.  “So you do have some familiarity with the world of Archie Comics!”

Reggie turned again to Sheriff Alan Steel.  “Would you please stop this Yankee killer moron?  What has any of this got to do with the price of tea in China?”

“Go on, Gariton,” said the Sheriff. “Let’s get to the coup de grace.”

“So, I was thinking, what is Weatherbee Exterminators?  How could that fit in?  Then it came to me.  I knew who Weatherbee is.”  Gariton paused, and the other two stayed silent.  “You know!  It’s the Principal!  The Principal of Riverdale High!  You know, in Archie Comics!”

“I don’t get it.  So what?  It’s not my company.  I don’t have anything to do with the name of it.”

“You’re right.  You don’t own it,” assured Gariton.  “Your brother does.”

“That’s right, Reggie,” added the Sheriff.  “We just got done tracing the P.O. Box.  It’s in the name of your brother.”

Whatever response Gariton and Alan were expecting didn’t come.  It was quiet again, almost for a full moment.  Reggie looked blank but increasingly pale.  Finally, he broke the silence.  “I changed my mind.”

“About what?” asked the Sheriff.

“I want a lawyer.  Now.”