The owner of the bar was a middle-aged, pudgy, slightly balding man with cold, soft hands and a nervous tic. Hunter had asked the bartender about looking around upstairs and the bartender had called Harry. It only took him fifteen minutes to get there, so he must live close. After Hunter introduced himself and Levi, Harry asked, “So who are you, exactly?”

Hunter decided to switch to the truth. Harry seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy and Hunter doubted he’d get far if Harry sensed he was lying. “I’m a bounty hunter,” Hunter said. “I’m looking for a man who used to come in here quite often. I was told that he had a twin and that they may have used the apartment upstairs. I was hoping I could look around and see if maybe they left anything behind that might help me find them now.”

“It was a pigsty up there,” Harry said. “I had a cleaning service come in and once it was clean, I had it sprayed for bugs. We threw out all the furniture left behind because none of it was salvageable. I’m not sure what went on up there, but it was nothing good, I assure you. The place still smells.”

“So, there’s nothing left up there?”

“I did keep what wasn’t obviously trash, just in case the previous owner came back for it.”

“Where is the previous owner? Does he live in Boston?”

“He did, when I bought the bar,” Harry said. “That was several months ago. I haven’t seen or heard from him since then.”

“Would it be possible to see what you kept?”

Harry sighed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt, I’m about to just throw it out anyways. I’ve got it all boxed up. Come on.” The two men followed Harry up the narrow stairwell and waited while he unlocked the door. The little suite may have been trashed before, but it was immaculate now. The walls were white and almost blindingly clean and the wood floors were shiny enough to see your reflection. There was a slight smell, but Hunter had to inhale deeply to detect it. It did smell a little like rotting flesh.

There was a little kitchenette with apartment-sized stainless-steel appliances, but otherwise there was no furniture. A few boxes in the corner were all that was left in the living area. “They’re right there,” Harry told them, indicating the boxes. “I’m gonna go down and check on things in the bar. Just let me know when you’re finished,”

Hunter thanked Harry and once he was gone Levi said, “Twin boys…I don’t know about you, but I’m a little confused.”

Hunter shook his head. He’d told Levi the story of losing his brother the first night they met, after he’d had a few beers. Since then, he’d come to trust the kid and he’d confided in him a lot. Levi was the only person other than Dax and Chase that knew all the details about Brett’s killer.

“I’m just as confused as you right now, trust me.” Hunter sat down on the floor then and pulled one of the boxes toward him. Levi did the same. They sat silently, going through what mostly looked like old photos and some cheap jewelry. Hunter finished one box and pulled the other over toward him. On top of that box was a photo of three men. The one in the middle had dark hair and green eyes. He was average-looking and there was nothing much that stood out about him. But the men on either side of him made the photo more interesting. It was Robert and Richard, he assumed. He knew for sure that one of them was the man that had been arrested on suspicion of murder and had later killed Hunter’s brother. The men downstairs were right; these two men were identical. He shook his head and laid the photo aside. As he continued through, he found a velvet box about three by three inches. It looked like the kind of box an expensive belt-buckle might come in. Hunter opened it and as he looked down into the box, he shuddered.

“What is it?”

“Earrings,” Hunter said. “About ten single earrings.” He didn’t want to touch them in case they had DNA evidence on them. One of the things about the women the serial killer had strangled was that they all had pierced ears and they were all wearing only one earring. It made him nauseous to think about how they’d been collected, but at least he knew they were still on the right track.

He sat the velvet box aside and when he looked back up, Levi said, “Look at this.” He handed him a photo. It was a family photo, yellowed with age. In the photo was a man with light hair and blue eyes, a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, and two babies. One of the babies was wrapped in a blue blanket and the other in pink. The woman looked a lot like Robert Potter’s mother, only much younger and less worn out. “Turn it over,” Levi said.

Hunter flipped the picture over and on the back, it said “Me, Monty and the twins.” “Damn, a girl and a boy…where’s the other boy?”

“Maybe there wasn’t one, but there is now,” Levi said. Hunter looked up at him and it took him a few seconds to get it.

“Oh, fuck…Roberta is Richard?”

“Maybe. We know the one that was arrested had to be Robert, right?”

“Well, the sample they had was blood and skin cells. One of the women got a piece of him. I’m not sure that could be tested for gender. DNA is usually only labeled gender specific in the case of a hair or semen test…or if they specifically tested it for that in other ways. So, I guess we don’t really know. I do wonder how a biological female passed the initial physical for the Army Rangers…the one where the doctor looks at your junk.”

“If they’re that hard to tell apart, maybe they did the old switcheroo game with the army doc?”

“I guess that’s possible…It wouldn’t have been easy…but possible. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how Robert could have a twin brother that we didn’t know about. If the one in the army had the same DNA and fingerprints, he would have come up when they ran Robert’s…but they didn’t, because they’re not identical twins. Damn.” Hunter’s head was still trying to process all of that as he took out his phone and pulled up Chase’s number. He’d just pressed send when the phone rang. It was Chase, calling him.

“Chase…”

“Richard Potter is a lieutenant in the 75^th Army Brigade. He was a Ranger himself for five years before becoming an instructor at Fort Benning. He teaches the ‘mountain’ phase and according to my buddy, he’s a tough son of a bitch.”

“He’s a woman—biologically, anyways.”

“Excuse me?”

“Richard Potter is actually Roberta Potter. I can only assume that Robert was the one to pass the original physical, the one where a doctor had him strip down and show what God gave him. Somehow, after that, they traded places. They’re identical, except for two things…”

“A vagina and penis?” Chase said with a groan.

Hunter chuckled. “Yeah, I was just going to say gender, but that works too. The other thing is a tattoo they each have on their back. One of them, the killer, has a phoenix, rising from the ashes, on his back. The other has an eagle, carrying a flag. Can you have your friend check that? The tattoo would have been documented when he entered the army and again by the doctor who did the physical.”

Chase sighed loudly. “Yeah. What a fucking mess.”

Hunter chuckled. “Yes, it is. I’m heading up to Foulmouth when I leave here. I’ll check in later.”

“Foulmouth? Really? What the hell for?”

“Another lead. I’ll call you later.” Hunter ended the call and looked at Levi. “You feel like another ride?”

“Always,” Levi said. They left the bar to head up Route 28 to Foulmouth. Hunter had even more questions now than he did answers and his head was pounding. He at least knew he was still chasing the right guy…or at least he thought he was. Chase was right, it was a fucking mess.

* * *

The town was small, and quaint, surrounded by hills, trees, and rivers. The air smelled fresh and clean, unlike the air in Boston that was heavy with pollution from the half a million or so people that lived there. Hunter had been surprised at how easily he’d gotten the address for the Potters’ relatives in Foulmouth. They owned a logging company, and the business address and home addresses were one and the same. They had to ride up a windy, narrow mountain road to get to the property, but they couldn’t have asked for more beautiful scenery.

They passed the business first. There were truck scales, portable buildings set up as offices, and about six logging trucks that said “Quentin Potter Loggers, Inc.” on the side. They continued up the same hill for another three miles before the house came into view. It was a log house, but it was huge. It was set in the middle of what looked like a two-acre, grassy lot. It was the kind of house you see on the front cover of magazines, and definitely not the kind of house most people would associate with a serial killer.

Hunter was surprised that such an expensive-looking property didn’t have security. The two men rode their bikes up almost to the front door before parking and looking at each other. “This is a better class of bad guy than I’m used to,” Levi said, with a grin. Hunter chuckled.

“Yeah, me too.” As they were getting off their bikes, the front door opened and a man stepped out. He was probably in his fifties or sixties, with a full head of black hair with silver at the temples and a body that looked like he’d lifted a lot of logs in his lifetime.

“Can I help you?” He was eyeing Hunter and Levi even more suspiciously than the old men in the bar had. Hunter didn’t blame him; they didn’t look like they belonged in a place like this.

“I hope so,” Hunter said. He introduced them and then said, “I’m looking for Robert Potter, or his twin.”

The man raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. “What do you want with my nephew?”

Hunter went with honesty again, just because the man didn’t look like he’d fall for the other story. “I’m a bounty hunter. Robert skipped bail almost a year ago and he’s a wanted man. I’d like to bring him in, safely and quietly,” he lied. He’d like to choke the life out of the piece of crap, but he wasn’t going to tell his uncle that. The man in front of him didn’t change his expression at all. He didn’t look surprised, upset, or even like he’d heard what Hunter had said.

“He’s not here, and I’ve already spoken to the police on more than one occasion.”

“Okay…” Hunter realized he must be talking about the local police and not the F.B.I. Why didn’t the F.B.I. interview these people? “Do you know where Robert is, or his twin?”

The man pulled his brows together. “Why would you want Richard? He’s never been a part of Robert’s shenanigans. He’s an honorable man and I doubt he even knows about any of this.”

The man was avoiding the question about where Robert was, but Hunter went in a different direction. “An honorable man, huh? Would that be the same man who is deceiving the United States Army? The same one that had his brother take his physical?”

An expression of surprise crossed the man’s face before he caught it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Richard is a highly decorated military man.”

“Richard is a biological female. Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against being trans-gender or non-binary…but let’s be honest here, Richard was born Roberta, wasn’t he?”