"A psychopath."

"You got a name to go with that personality, bro?"

Hunter stiffened. "I wish I did."

"Why's that?" Buddy asked.

Hunter glanced at his father. "Obviously, so you could catch him before he hurts anyone else."

"Noble," Matt murmured. "What a guy."

Hunter stood and met his brother's gaze evenly. "You got a problem with me, Matt? This town too small

for the two of us?"

"And here I thought I was the cowboy in the family."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I have a problem with disloyalty. And with cowards." Hunter laughed without humor, throat tight. "And

you see me as both."

"I do."

At times like this, he saw his brother so clearly. He'd always had to be right. Have the last word, have it

his way. He had demanded the lion's share of their parents' attention. Adoration from the girls. He

couldn't be simply part of the team, he'd had to be the star.

Hunter hadn't required adulation. He had been happy to let his twin have it.

But he had drawn the line when his brother had wanted him to stop thinking for himself. Matt had expected his brother to like who and what he did, to think like him. No, Hunter corrected, not expected.

Required it of him. Of anyone who remained in his circle.

"You're not engaging me in this, Matt. There's no point in it."

"Like I said, bro, a disloyal coward."

"Because I won't fight with you?" Hunter demanded. "Or because I left, went on with my life? Because I

didn't give one hundred percent loyalty to the great Matt Stevens? Is that it?"

"Boys-"

That one deeply uttered word shattered Hunter's veneer of control; anger burst through, white hot,

blinding. Memories with it. His father had intoned that warning a million times growing up, from as early as Hunter could remember.

Only then, he had been one of them.

"You hate that I can think for myself, don't you, Matt? I'm not your dutiful little soldier and that makes you crazy."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, bro."

"If you tried leaving your personal oyster shell, you would have realized you're not the be all and end all, Sheriff Stevens. But then, maybe that's why you never did."

Angry color flooded Matt's face. "You were always jealous of me. You still are. Because I got the girl."

"Leave Avery out of this."

"She's always been a part of it. You couldn't handle that it was me she wanted, not you."

Hunter met his eyes. "Wanted you? If that's so, where's she been all these years? Seems to me she left

you behind."

Matt took a step toward him. Hunter curled his hands into fists, ready to throw the first punch. Eager.

Buddy stepped between them before he could. "Thanks for coming in, Hunter. We'll be in touch."

CHAPTER 17.

The West Feliciana Parish Coroner's office was located in St. Francisville. An elected official, Dr. Harris served all the parish, one of the smallest in Louisiana. The coroner examined the circumstances of death, performed toxicology tests, called time and manner of death and signed the certificate of death.

Avery had learned all this from the man's wife when she'd called to make an appointment. She had also learned that Dr. Harris had served for almost twenty-eight years. His office employed two deputy coroners, both physicians, and handled an average of eighty deaths a year. If he determined an autopsy was required to establish cause of death, the body was transported to Earl K. Long Hospital in Baton Rouge. There, a forensic pathologist would perform an autopsy. Unlike big parishes in the state, West Feliciana Parish didn't have the funding to employ its own forensic pathologist. That had surprised Avery.

Dr. Harris was a charming sprite of a man, with a wreath of thinning gray nair an