Page 12 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

"Good," Oliva says. "Your aunt fixed me up with my fiance," she explains to me. "You must know about her reputation as a famed matchmaker."

"I am aware," I say. Indeed, I've watched her successfully match couple after couple here in Mystic Cove. I wonder if it is simply an innate gift that has nothing to do with her witchcraft abilities. My real aunt, my mother's sister, was a matchmaker too. She was not as prolific as Beverly, but she had her fair share of successes.

"We've set a date for April," Olivia says.

Beverly laughs. "Of course you did."

"What does that mean?"

"Wolves, like most mammals, mate in the spring. He's going to want to get you with pup as soon as possible."

Oliva and I both blush beet red. I can't believe Beverly would speak so openly about such things.

"Well...umm...we're in no rush," Oliva tries to say as she fumbles with Beverly's card.

"Oh, I wouldn't be surprised at all if you have a very special Christmas present for us all next year," Beverly goes on.

"Thanks for stopping by, Bev," Oliva says, handing her her card and shoving all the packages at us. "Next customer!" she squeaks.

Beverly and I make our way across the slushy parking lot toward The Book Coven, and I already miss the smells from Jumpin' Beans.

"Do you really think Oliva will get pregnant so quickly?" I ask her, sipping on my hot mocha. Liquid chocolate, what a treat!

"I'm certain of it," she says. "As Alpha, Adrian will want a large litter to shore up his power and hopefully find his heir among his children. It will make life easier for him that way."

I shiver at all this talk about werewolves. At the door to Jumpin' Beans, I look across the street and remember the last time I looked out this way when I was alive. Everything looks completely different. What was a dirt road is now a wide, blacktopped street. The wooden shops are gone, replaced with brick buildings. Still, I can almost see him there, Jeremiah Holland, watching me as he walked past. As I asked my husband to lock the door. As I ignored the warning of danger prickling on my skin. I turn away and rush into The Book Coven. I don't want to remember that day anymore. I'm alive again, and Jeremiah is long dead. I don't need to be afraid.

I stomp the damp from my boots on the mat but freeze when I see Detective Beckett Dawson standing by the counter, talking to Beverly's granddaughter, Sophia. His eyes brighten when he sees me too. He rushes over to take the package of goodies from me.

"Hi, Cora," he says. "You look good."

"Umm... What?" I ask dumbly, my thoughts and voice locking up.

"I just mean, you look rested. More relaxed. More comfortable in warmer clothes." His face has gone red, so I don't think he is saying what he really meant. His eyebrow scrunch in confusion. "Are you sure we didn't meet before last night? You are just...so familiar to me."

I chuckle. "I've been getting that a lot." My eyes can't help but glance up to the portrait over the counter. I am sure that every resident of Mystic Cove has been into the Book Coven at least once. It is only a matter of time before someone realizes who I am. Sure, I don't look exactly like the portrait. Saying I'm simply another member of the Barnes clan is a good explanation. But I'm sure the ruse won't last for long.

"This danish and coffee are for you, Officer Dawson," Beverly says as she hands out the goods.

"Thanks, Bev. I didn't even tell you I was coming," he says, taking a bite of the pastry.

"I knew you would," she says. "You needed to check on our little friend here."

Everyone looks at me, and I feel my face flush again. "What?" I ask. "I'm just Beverly's niece...right?"

"That's the story for out there," Beverly says, motioning with her chin toward the door. "But I've enlisted the help of Sophia and her husband, Jacob, to find out what is going on. And it wouldn't hurt to have a friend from the sheriff's office either."

I walk up to the counter and tentatively pick at my blueberry muffin. “What do you mean, ‘what’s going on’? I told you, I don’t want to look into this. I just want to…” I glance at Detective Dawson, who looks terribly confused. “I just want to live,” I mumble.

“I know that, dear,” Beverly says, patting the back of my hand. “But this is bigger than you. This is about someone—”

“Or several someones,” Sophia says.

Beverly nods in agreement. “Someone has broken at least one, if not several, very serious supernatural laws. We need to know who and why as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” Detective Dawson says, putting his Danish down and licking his fingers as he pulls out a notebook and pen. “So, what is going on here? Really?”

“I didn’t lie when I said that Cora was a long lost relative,” Beverly tells him. “But she’s someone we all know very well.”

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