Chasing The Chupacabra

Critter Catchers Book Two

Business is tough for Critter Catchers, the animal control company owned by best friends Demetrius and Cody. Their first big job was a few months ago, but no one likes to talk about it because that critter turned out to be a murderous wolf man. When a new job finally appears, they jump at it, and end up chasing an unidentified creature through the woods around Parson’s Hollow. Soon they’re smack dab in the middle of another potential paranormal case, complete with a mysterious blood-thirsty creature, a secretive laboratory, and a farmer they’re not sure they can trust!


“First goat we found was probably a week ago, and we found him right about here. There was two that first time, and the other one was just about fifty feet away, over there.”

Cody leaned on the railing of the goat pen and looked down at the mud. Reed Wilkes might not be as tall as Cody, but he was more muscular, with a jaw just a touch more square, eyes the brilliant blue of a Photoshopped Caribbean Ocean travel brochure, and shoulders almost as broad as Cody’s. Almost.

Reed Wilkes was about four times younger than Cody had expected, and eighty-seven times more handsome. When Agatha had given them the farmer’s name—and the fact that the man was a farmer, in and of itself—Cody had conjured up a mental image of a grumpy, set-in-his-ways old man. But, instead, here they were talking with a men’s fitness magazine model. And one that was mean to his dog, to boot.


“Six goats altogether, right?” Demetrius asked, leaning on the railing on the other side of Farmer Wilkes. He stared up at the man, his blue eyes wide and his expression intent, as if he’d never heard anything so fascinating as goats found dead from blood loss.

“Right,” Reed replied, but then glanced down to where Agatha was making notes as she knelt beside the most recent victim. “And my wonderful Sophia is gone now.”

“Goat fucker?” Cody grumbled to himself.

“Did you say something?” Agatha asked, looking up from her notebook.

“Nope. Not a word.” Cody forced himself to listen as Reed went through each night a goat had been slain.

“Each time I was inside the house, reading by the fire—”

Cody had to restrain himself from an eye roll, the force of which would have surely made him black out. Farmer Wilkes was just a little too picture-perfect with his amazing body, handsome face, flannel and denim, and salt-of-the-earth act.

“—and I didn’t hear a goddamn thing. Just found them bled and dead the next morning.”

Well, Cody had to be impressed by Farmer Wilkes’s poetic rhyming when describing his slaughtered goats.

“I looked out the window,” Farmer Wilkes continued, “but from the kitchen, I can only see the front section of the pen, not the back area here. Never saw anything unusual.”

“The goats were found in the back of the pen each time, right?” Demetrius asked.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Reed replied with a nod at Demetrius.

Cody could have sworn he saw Demmy’s chest puff out a little bit with pride, and his irritation bubbled up too much to be contained.

“Do you always leave your goats out in the pen unattended at night?” Cody asked, hearing the sharp tone to his voice, but not able, or interested, in adjusting it. Something about Farmer Wilkes just rubbed him the wrong way. It could have been that Farmer Wilkes was so muscular, or so handsome, or mean to his dog, or flirting with either Agatha or Demmy, Cody couldn’t quite tell. Whatever the reason was, Farmer Wilkes was absolutely getting under Cody’s skin.

“Oh, well, yeah, sure,” Farmer Wilkes replied, and gave Cody an assessing look. “I mean, they have a shelter to go under if it rains, and if it gets too cold, I put them inside the barn. But the weather wasn’t bad this week, so I left them out.” He turned to look at Demmy. “I mean, I’ve always done it. I’ve never had a problem with losing my livestock.”

Demmy gave the farmer a sympathetic nod as he gazed up at him. What the hell was wrong with Demmy? Wasn’t Ollie the cub reporter punching all of Demmy’s buttons these days?