Chapter 4—Jo The Early Wolf Catches the Witch   Booker the Wolf smiled at me, flashing matching dimples on either side of his mouth, and I nearly laughed, despite the momentary shock and heightened apprehension electrifying my body. He was leaning against a mirror in jeans and a long coat, one booted ankle resting on top of the other, with his arms crossed over his chest. It seemed like he took the pose to look more casual and less intimidating, and it worked. Somewhat. “I guess the early wolf catches the witch?” I said, looking away and placing one fingertip along the silvery surface of the mirror to my left. “Something like that,” he allowed, his voice as smooth as good Scotch. “And hello to you, too, Jo Murphy.” Then he cocked his head, eyes sharpening, and added, almost as an afterthought, “Your hair is longer.” This time, I couldn’t hold back a chuckle, especially at the momentary chagrin that crossed his features. I don’t think he’d meant to say it, and that momentary fumble, more than anything else, helped me relax a little. “Funny thing about hair,” I deadpanned. “It just grows on you.” His grin was real this…