6. Emma

SIX

Emma

I plopped down in the passenger seat and grinned at Beth. She’d had her burnt-red four-door 1964 Pontiac Catalina, her baby, was recently detailed, so her white leather interior really shone. That was one thing about Beth, when she loved something, she really loved it. This car would be better taken care of than my car ever hoped to be.

"The car looks beautiful, I said, grinning.

"Thanks,” she said.

"My car cried a little when it saw how beloved yours is.”

She laughed.

My gaze slid to the sunrise. Okay, so it was too late to be a true sunrise, but it was still a beautiful view, with the sunlight illuminating the ocean behind the houses. Man, I loved living in Mystic Hollow.

"We’re headed for our first lead on the werewolf case. I’m not sure if it’ll be that helpful, but I have a few other places to go if that doesn’t work out.”

"Perfect,” I said, settling back against the seat.

"So." Beth started the car and pointedly avoided looking at me. "What did you and Wade talk about?"

I needed to answer her without lying, but without knowing the truth. My subtle handling of the topic of dessert would be pointless if she knew about it. Then, she’d be even more awkward around Wade, and their romance would be completely derailed.

"Mostly the case," I replied, avoiding her probing glances. "He's looking into some things."

"Like what?" Her tone was casual, but her fingers flexed around the steering wheel, a telltale sign she was more interested than she let on.

"Stuff," I said. "Research, mostly."

"Emma," she pressed, "come on. You can't leave me hanging like that."

I sighed, relenting. "Fine. He's digging into some unicorn horn thing. But really, it's not as exciting as it sounds."

"Research on unicorn horn?"

"Yeah, he’s looking into who would want to kill unicorns and why.” I just didn’t mention the second half of our conversation, the part about desserts.

The heat rose to my cheeks.

"Wow." She turned the steering wheel, guiding us around a corner. "I shouldn't be surprised though. Wade has the craziest collection of animal books I've ever seen."

"Really?"

"Shelves and shelves of them." She nodded. "All sorts of creatures, myths, facts. It's like a library for the supernatural in his study. Magical creatures were his specialty when he was a professor," Beth continued, her voice taking on an enthused pitch. "It's not just books. He's got artifacts, too. Wade's place is like stepping into another world."

"Must be fascinating," I said, the corner of my mouth twitching upwards. "You've been spending quite a bit of time there to notice all that detail?"

Her cheeks flushed a pale pink, and she glanced over at me with feigned annoyance. "Shut up, Emma."

I couldn't help it; a laugh bubbled out of me, and soon Beth joined in, her earlier excitement melting into warm chuckles that filled the car.

The car slowed, tires crunching on gravel as we pulled up to the curb. I peered out the window at the neat lawns and the row of houses that looked like they'd been cut from the same white-shutters cloth. It was a nice neighborhood. I’d even dare to call it cute.

"Here we are," Beth said, killing the engine.

"Nice place." It was the kind of area where you'd expect block parties and kids playing in the streets, not harboring creatures of legend.

Beth unbuckled her seatbelt and nodded toward one of the houses. "That's Andrew Whit's place." She gestured to a pale blue two-story with a well-kept garden.

"Andrew Whit?" I asked.

"Yep, one of the two werewolves in Mystic Hollow. That we know of.”

"So, inside that building could be a cold blood monster killer?” I murmured. "It’s kind of unsettling.”

"You might be surprised,” she said, then we headed out of the car.

She started for the walkway. I followed, still trying to wrap my head around the concept of a suburban werewolf. A monster sitting right next door to a bunch of humans, without them ever knowing. I mean, didn’t they get suspicious with all the howling at the moon? But then again, I didn’t suspect the supernatural world existed the whole time I was here when I was younger, so I couldn’t exactly blame them.

"Do you know him well?" I asked as we walked up to the door.

"Sort of. I’ve been to a few parties where he was," Beth shrugged, her keys jangling softly as she tucked them into her purse. "He's always been nice. Not what you'd expect from a werewolf."

"Well, okay then." I watched her hand hover over the doorbell.

"I called him this morning, told him we wanted to talk." She pressed the button, and a distant chime echoed from within. "I’m pretty sure he knows why we're here."

"Do you think he'll help us?"

"I guess we're about to find out." She stepped back and waited.

The door creaked open and a guy with glasses that looked like they belonged in a 1950s ad campaign peered out. He was skinny, the type of skinny that made you think of high school science teachers or guys who owned too many comic books.

"Andrew Whit?" Beth tilted her head slightly as she examined him.

"That's me." He said, with a strong British accent, before he pushed his glasses up his nose with a finger. "You must be Beth. And this is?"

"Emma…" I trailed off as I stared. This was the werewolf? He looked more capable of solving algebra problems than howling at the moon.

"Nice to meet you, Emma." Andrew stepped aside. "Come in."

"Thanks for having us over," Beth said as we walked past him.

"Sure thing." Andrew closed the door behind us. "I figured it was about the unicorn horn case when you called."

"Smart man." Beth shared a look with me.