Chapter 4: The Sportscar II

It was absolutely hopeless finding out who had anonymously donated those case-files. After interviewing all of the neighbors, who were mostly senior citizens and likely to be up before dawn even on weekends, it became apparent that no-one had seen or heard anything. If the McCalls had lived in a slightly more upscale neighborhood, there might have been private security cameras, but not here.

Scott seemed to be in a daze all afternoon when he finally climbed out of bed. Joe forced him to sit down to get that Chem report out of the way and she resorted to pinching him to make him pay attention.

"Ow!" he hissed the third time and swatted her hand away. "Jeez, I'm thinking!"

"If that's how you look when you're thinking about molecular equations, I feel sorry for your girlfriend."

Scott's face split in a stupid grin and he rubbed his hair. "She's not my girlfriend...I think." His face fell as he apparently remembered something. "We were suppposed to go on a date tomorrow. But now it's turned into this group date thing. Bowling."

"You hate bowling," Joe pointed out and Scott only nodded in consent. There'd been a few birthday parties where either of their dads had taken them to bowling alleys in a general belief that all kids loved bowling. Joe also hated bowling, mostly because of the smell and the competitiveness. Trying to beat each other at something was not her idea of a good time.

The front door downstairs opened and closed, followed by the familiar call of: "I'm home!"

"Okay!" both Joe and Scott called back simultaneously. By the sound of it, Aunt Melissa made a beeline for the fridge and then the TV. Joe nodded towards the half-finished assignment and asked Scott to focus for a couple of minutes. "I just gotta ask Aunt Mel about something."

He shrugged in agreement and Joe went downstairs where Aunt Mel was halfway lying on the couch with a beer, leftover takeout and the TV on. She was still in her scrubs and her curly hair was scattered all over her head, the same style Joe usually ended up with. She'd given up years ago trying to control that lion's mane.

"Hey, how was your shift?" Joe asked and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. She wasn't too fond of beer.

"Meh," was Aunt Mel's response and it was clear all her focus was on the drama-series she insisted on TiVo-ing.

"So, uh, that package you took in this morning..." Joe started and waited for Aunt Mel to pause her show. "D'you see who brought it? Or was there a note or something?"

"No, nothing. Just had your name on it."

Joe nodded - it had said "Joe Delgado". Which meant it couldn't have been Derek Hale, as he thought she was a McCall. Not that it made any sense that it should have been him, but he had been the epicenter for mysterious things lately. He was the only one she could think of that would do something so strange.

"I figured it was just something from the university. It wasn't?"

If she told her aunt about the contents, she was positive Aunt Mel would make her tell the Sheriff. Which she did not want to, not yet. She did not know enough yet.

"I'm not sure," Joe said, which was only half a lie. "It might've been. Just a weird delivery time that's all."

She excused herself to go back upstairs and help Scott. At least Chemistry was something she could do in her sleep, leaving her time to think about the strange case and the unknown benefactor.

Next day was was a Berkely-day and she yawned her way through the commute. Another all-nighter to get some actual points down for her session with Professor Kane, not just anectodes about the murder and the string of similar cases she had found when doing some digging. It was the societal impact of the case she was studying, not the case itself. She had to repeat that mantra to herself every so often.

She had forgone her usual CDs and turned on the local radio that mostly played classic rock. It was there she caught the report of another animal attack, this time at Beacon High. A bus driver was severely injured, but alive, and brought to Beacon Hills Memorial. Definitely an animal attack, the victim had survived and lived to tell about it, nothing ambiguous like the severed body found in the woods. Wonder how the online conspirators would spin this.

Professor Kane seemed a bit too delighted about the newest attack. "It is turning out just like Bedburg!"

Where allegedly sixteen people were killed by the werewolf before they managed to stop him.

She seemed pleased with Joe's work too, and together they made an outline for how to approach a few of the key points. Joe tried to carefully hint at the delivered police files, but Professor Kane did not seem to know what she was talking about and to be fair, she had no reason to be hiding it from Joe either. Added to that, Professor Kane had the unfortunate habit of using Joe's full name in written correspondence and would not have adressed it to "Joe Delgado". So the search continued.

After office hours, Joe followed her set schedule, ending with tutoring in the library, before she managed to trudge back to the car to go back to Beacon Hills. A flock of girls passed her on the sidewalk on her way to the parking lot. Judging by the makeup and outfits, they were headed for some kind of party. Joe watched them a bit wistfully as they giggled their way down towards the student houses.

"Stop being stupid," Joe berated herself under her breath and got in the car. She did not even like parties. The few times she attended, she ended up in the kitchen, usually forced to listen to some guy's sob story of his high-school sweetheart who broke his heart a few months after moving to another college and giving up on their long distance relationship. Her former classmates stopped inviting her in the end as she'd always find an excuse to not attend. It only got worse when her dad cut her off and she was forced to move off-campus.

Saving the sob-stories for another day, she played another girl rock band CD on her way home and poured her soul into singing along to it. What she lacked in talent, she almost made up for with enthusiasm. She had passed the city-limits to Beacon Hills when she spotted a familiar car outside one of those independent gas-stations that somehow manage to survive gentrification. The black sportscar.

She forced her car to make a hairpin turn and parked on the side of the building to avoid detection. It was the same car. There weren't that many black sportscar in Beacon County, and it had the same tinted windows and all. Not really sure if she wanted to confront the driver, she carefully got out of her Ford and crept around the corner to take down the license plate number. California-registered at least.

The gas station itself was a squat building with a nondescript sign labeled "Food mart". The door jingled as someone exited and Joe took a step back to avoid being seen. Her jaw dropped open.

"Why am I even surprised?" she said out loud and stalked up to the sportscar's owner. "You nearly forced me off the road, asshole!"

Derek Hale seemed infuriatingly unbothered by her appearance. He ignored her in favor of getting the pump out to fill his car up and sounded bored as he spoke. "You and your car seem to be in one piece."

"What, so it's okay 'cause I'm a better driver than you expected?" Joe demanded and crossed her arms, indicating she was not going anywhere. "What's your deal? Why are you harassing our family?"

Still halfway turned away from her, he watched the numbers tick upwards on the pump as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "Believe it or not, I'm just trying to look out for you. And Scott."

"How is tailgating me in the middle of the night in any way or form looking out for me?" Joe scoffed and relished in the anger that made it easier to ignore that alluring scent that seemed to radiate from his person.

Derek shrugged. "What'd you think would've happened if you hit that deer herd going almost 60 mph?"

Her car would have been totalled for one. She might have survived if she was lucky. Joe realized this, but that did not take away the fact that: "How the hell did you know there was a deer herd coming?"

He ignored this completely, but this was because his attention shifted to a couple of other cars pulling into the gas station. One red and one white SUV. They parked on either's side of them. Derek's jaw tightened and he handed Joe a twenty without looking at her.

"Go inside."

Joe cocked her head - he could not be serious. "Excuse me?"

For the first time that evening, Derek Hale looked at her and she was subject to the full force of his intense glare. A second layer seemed to creep into his voice, almost an animalistic growl, as he demanded: "Get inside."

Something was wrong with his eyes, and Joe scoffed to try and play off how much he unnerved her. For some reason, her entire body had tried to respond immediately to his command, but her brain was not cool with that. Still, Derek had squared up when the new cars pulled up, and he looked more poised to fight than flight.

"Fine," she huffed and snatched the bill from his hand. The driver of the red SUV got out of the car the same second she opened the door to the gas station. She recognized him as Allison's father, the one who'd offer to help her carry her coffee at the game. By the way he and Derek looked at each other, there was no lost love.

"Can I get you something?" the young and pretty girl behind the counter asked, hoping to get Joe's attention from where she was staring out the windows. Joe picked a few random things off the shelves, while trying to pay attention to the scene outside. Allison's father had started to clean the front shield of the sportscar, so it did not look like they would be throwing punches just yet.

"These are 3 for 2," the girl said and held up a chocolate bar with a bright smile. Joe wordlessly grabbed two more chocolate bars without looking at the girl. "And, uh, you want any drinks to go with that?"

Something in the girl's voice made Joe pay attention. She was probably required by store policy to ask if she wanted drinks, but it was a bit awkward probably because in Joe's inattention she had picked an assortment of chocolate bars and several packs of condoms.

"Yeah, I'll take a Sprite," Joe said in an attempt to lighten the mood. The girl still blushed deeply when bagging Joe's purchase and Joe tried to not roll her eyes. They were just condoms.

They both jumped at a sharp crash of glass from outside. Joe turned around quick enough to see one of the guys from the white SUV stepping away from the sportscar with a humorless grin on his face and a large hammer in his hands. What the...? She snatched her grocery bag and darted outside, but the two other cars had already driven off.

"Jesus Christ," Joe said as she found the source of the sharp noise. The entire driver-side window of Derek's car was smashed to pieces. Derek stood completely still by the gas pump on the other side, not acknowleding Joe when she looked at him. "Ya wanna press charges? I'll be your witness."

"Leave it," Derek muttered and shoved the pump handle back into its holder.

"You sure? You're looking at a 400 dollar replacement here." This earned her an incredulous stare and Joe shrugged. "I smashed my dad's window once, those 400 came straight outta my savings. Kind of a number you'd remember."

"Right," said Derek and put both hands onto the roof of his car to lean forwards and take a deep breath. Joe realized she was acutely aware of every nuance to his body. How his muscles flexed with every movement, how the lines on his face were accentuated by shadows, how his light green eyes were meeting hers steadily. She'd been caught staring.

"Right! So, you want this?" Joe asked quickly to avoid any awkward questions and held the grocery bag aloft. It had been bought with his money after all.

Derek shook his head tiredly, now back to staring at his car. "No, keep it."

"Thank God," Joe muttered under her breath. She swung her arms a bit awkwardly. Something had obviously happened that upset Derek Hale enough to lose his cool, and for some reason she doubted it was the window itself. Could he be in some sort of gang, maybe? Or indebted to the wrong people? Everything about the scene she'd witnessed spoke of extortion in one way or another. She'd grown up on mafia biographies and it reminded her of how the mob would harass people to pay up what they owed.

"Did you know those guys?" she asked, unable to help herself. She pointed her thumb in the general direction of where the cars had driven off. "Are you in some sort of trouble?"

No answer, only his shoulders seemed to tighten.

"Only, if you are, my dad is-"

Derek made a sound that sounded eerily reminiscent of a growl. "Can you please leave?"

"Sorry?" She took her thumb down slowly. He sounded so agitated.

"I need to think and I can't think with you here," he bit out and Joe had to take a step back when he looked up at her. His eyes seemed to glow under the fluorescent light of the gas station. It only intensified when he took a deep inhale through his nose. Joe was struck with the wild notion that he smelled her as much as she smelled him.

"Jesus, I'm sorry," she mumbled and took a long way around his car back to her Ford. "I'll let you think."

Joe threw the grocery bag in the passenger seat and buckled herself up with a huff. She sped out of the gas station lot - Derek still stood leaning on his car, watching her leave.

Mulling this over as she drove, she failed to reach any sort of conclusion other than something was up. She had too many dots and not enough connections. At the McCalls, lights were still on, unusual for this time of night. Aunt Mel's car was in the driveway, and so was Scott's bike, meaning they were both home at least. Joe locked herself inside and was going to yell she was home.

"Tsj!" A sharp shush and Joe snapped her mouth shut. Aunt Mel stood at the top of the stairs. She had a bat and a look of no nonsense. Joe squashed all of the questions that wanted to burst out and all theories about the gas station disappeared.

Joe carefully slid her backpack down on the floor to not make any noise. They did not live in a particularly high-risk area, but still had the bat at hand. Her dad's orders. Just in case, he'd said. She snuck up the stairs to join her aunt, who cocked her head towards Scott's room. Joe nodded and crept behind her aunt down the hallway with her phone ready to dial 911, heart thumping up into her throat.

Strange bumps and thuds came from Scott's room, but this time the door was open. Aunt Mel gave Joe a look of her shoulder and they nodded to each other while Aunt Mel mouthed: "One...two..."

On three, Aunt Mel threw herself into the room and screamed as she swung on the intruder, who screamed back. Joe let out a terrified shriek herself when another assailant came rushing from the side. In panic, she threw her phone at him.

"Ow, Joe, what the hell?" Scott shouted and rubbed his temple where her phone had left a small cut. Just then Aunt Mel realized she was trying to decapitate Stiles with a bat.

"Seriously, Stiles, what the hell are you doing here?" she asked tiredly and held the bat back. Stiles was halfway sprawled on Scott's bed, obviously warding of her attacks.

"What am I doing?" he yelped and gestured wildly to Melissa and Scott. "God, do either of you even play baseball?"

"What?" Aunt Melissa shook her head and looked at her son with absolutely no sign of amusement. "Can you please tell your friend to use the front door?"

"Only if you tell your niece to stop attacking me," Scott mumbled and rubbed his temple again. "Besides, we lock the front door, he wouldn't be able to get in."

"We might as well give him a key at this point," Joe butted in and retrieved her phone from the floor. She gave both the teenage boys pointed looks. "You guys are idiots. I'm going to bed."

"Good night!" Scott and Stiles both called after her, and she rolled her eyes. Aunt Melissa's exasperated attempt to remind them of the police-enforced curfew followed her out into the hall. The adrenaline rush subsided when she logged onto her laptop and tried to get her work done before tomorrow's deadline. Half an hour later, she thought she heard Stiles leave the same way he entered.

The empty document stared back at her from the screen. Sighing, she began piecing together a timeline.

Thank you for reading. Another short chapter, but hopefully readable. Please review!