Page 11 of The Secret Mate Society

Jake nodded, seemingly pleased with my observation."Exactly.Whatever did this wasn't just hungry.It was...deliberate."

A chill ran down my spine.The last time I'd seen wounds like this was fourteen years ago, in photos I wasn't supposed to see—photos of my father's body after we were attacked in the woods.

"The farmer said he heard howling last night," Jake continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper."Said it sounded bigger than any wolf he'd ever heard."

My mouth went dry."Wolves haven't been in Maine for decades."

"That's what I said."Jake's brown eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made me step back."But Marcus says otherwise.”He patted me on the shoulder, pointing toward the barn.“He’s waiting for us.”

I followed Jake toward the barn, my mind racing.The clean cuts, the howling, the deliberate nature of the attack—it was all too familiar.But I couldn't go down that rabbit hole again.Not after what happened at my last job and my life.

"Ethan," Jake called, pulling me from my thoughts."You coming?"

"Yeah, sorry," I muttered, quickening my pace.

The barn's interior was cool and dim after the bright Maine sunshine.Dust motes danced in the slanted beams of light filtering through the weathered boards.Marcus Greer sat on an overturned milk crate, his weathered hands clasped between his knees, head bowed.He looked up as we approached, his face etched with worry lines.

"Mr.Greer," Jake said, his voice suddenly gentle."This is Ethan Murphy from the Portland Gazette.My partner on the crime column.Now that he’s here, we'd like to ask you a few questions about what happened."

Marcus nodded, his gray eyes studying me."You're the new fella they hired, right?”

"Yes, sir," I said, clicking on my recorder."Mind if I record our conversation?"

He waved a hand dismissively.“Might as well.Nobody else is gonna listen to me.”

I cocked my head to the side.“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean every fuckin’ cop in this county thinks I’m a fool.And I ain’t no fool.I've lived in these parts my whole life," Marcus continued, leaning forward, his voice dropping."My daddy before me, and his daddy before him.We know what's natural and what ain't.And that—" he jabbed a finger toward the hillside where the mangled Holstein lay, "—that ain't natural."

I nodded, trying to maintain my professional demeanor while my heart hammered against my ribs.The recorder felt heavy in my hand.

"Can you tell me exactly what you heard or saw last night?"I asked.

Marcus ran a calloused hand through his thinning gray hair."Started 'round midnight.Was sleeping when my dogs went crazy.Not just barking—they were howling, whimpering.Scared like I ain't never seen 'em before."

Jake leaned against a wooden post, arms crossed over his chest, watching me work.His expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes made me shiver.

"I grabbed my shotgun and went to the porch," Marcus continued."That's when I heard it.Wasn't no coyote, wasn't no regular wolf neither.This was...bigger.Deeper."He paused, seemingly disturbed by his own words.“It sounded like…”

Marcus's hands trembled slightly as he mimicked the sound, a guttural howl that echoed through the barn.I tried to hide my reaction, but my finger slipped on the recorder, nearly dropping it.

"Didn't see nothing then," Marcus continued."But this morning..."He shook his head."Third cow this month.Can't afford more losses like this."

I cleared my throat."The wounds—they seemed very precise.Almost...surgical."

Marcus's eyes widened."That's what I been telling the sheriff!Whatever's doing this ain't just killing for food.Look at how the hide's been...peeled back."His voice cracked."Like it was picked apart for the most choice cuts.As far as I can tell, only the heart and the liver are missing."

Jake stepped forward."You said this was the third cow?Were the others killed the same way?"

The farmer nodded grimly."Same damn thing.Always the heart and the liver.The rest of it’s just left to rot."He looked between us."You boys think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"No," I said quickly, perhaps too quickly.His story made my heart race."We don't think that at all."

Jake gave me a curious look before turning back to Marcus."We’re here to report, Mr.Greer, not judge you.The police might not see fit to investigate your claims, but we’re going to report on it without bias.That’s our job.As long as you’re telling us the truth, that’s what will end up in the paper.”

"Truth's all I got," Marcus muttered, his weathered face creasing with worry."Sheriff thinks it's just some wild dog, maybe a coyote pack.But I've seen what coyotes do to livestock.This ain't it."

I nodded, jotting down notes on my small pocket notebook even though the recorder was running.It was a nervous habit that kept my hands busy while my mind raced.The missing heart and liver—it was the same pattern.The same as in those case files I'd obsessively studied after my father's death.Files I wasn't supposed to have access to.