Mason glanced at his watch. Seven o’clock on a Saturday night. Ray’s wife, Jill, should be calling any second. Too often the job of a detective demanded a cop put his work first, but Ray managed a healthy balance. His wife and two kids were the priorities in his life, and Ray made sure they knew it. Secretly, Mason envied Ray’s marriage and family life. He’d watch Ray and Jill as they finished each other’s sentences or silently communicated with eyes and facial expressions. He’d never had that type of connection with a woman. Especially his ex-wife.

Mason discretely studied his partner. If Ray ever discovered how he felt, he’d have his wife setting Mason up with blind dates every weekend.

Jill invited Mason over for dinner at least twice a month, but he rarely went. Lusco’s preteen kids were cool, easy to tease, and kicked his butt at every video game on the market, but Mason hated the depression that slapped him in the face each time he left their warm home. The kids made him want to see his son, Jake, who was almost seventeen…shit. Jake was almost eighteen.

Had it been seven years since his marriage went down the crapper? Frowning, Mason counted back on his fingers. He’d dated here and there, some even seriously, but it’d never lasted. Now he was forty-seven and still single. His wife…ex-wife…had had two more kids with the new husband, a CPA. Jake lived with his mom and stepdad. The man kept banker’s hours and coached Little League and soccer, all while maintaining an active social calendar. He always had a grin and handshake ready for Mason.

Mason hated him.

Mason tossed the dry-erase marker onto Ray’s keyboard and it clattered across the keys.

“Damn it! What was that for?” Ray glared, swiped up the marker, and hurled it back. Mason easily ducked. Ray was rather predictable.

“Go home, Ray. Eat the dinner your sexy wife made for you. Then pull her into the bedroom and—”

“Shut up.” Ray glanced at this watch. “Look at the time! Fuck. I gotta get out of here.” Ray stood and slapped his papers into piles and binders.

Mason rubbed at his chest and watched Ray wrestle on his overcoat.

“Aren’t you going home?” Ray stopped with his arm halfway in his coat sleeve, his pale eyes probing and his brows narrowing into concerned lines below his blunt military haircut.

“Naw. I’m right in the middle of something. I’ll go soon.”

Ray looked away and finished pulling on the thick overcoat. “All right.” He wrapped a black scarf neatly around his neck. “You’ll be over for the game tomorrow? Jill’s making that nacho dip you like.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Mason picked up his pencil, twisting it in his fingers. “See you tomorrow.”

“Later.” Ray sped toward the door but glanced back. “Go home, Callahan.”

“I will, I will. Get out of here.”

Ray vanished around the corner, and Mason blew out a sigh. He sank deeper into his chair and swung it around to face the white board. The chair creaked and complained as he leaned back, cracking his knuckles as he studied his artwork, directing his mind back into the case.

What the fuck was going on?

The dental school, on the hill overlooking Portland, occupied a tiny bit of the sprawling Oregon Health Sciences University campus. Inside the aging gray walls, every dental chair held a body with an open mouth.

Hovering beside a male student, Lacey watched him remove the decay from a little girl’s tooth. From Nick’s raised eyebrows and wide eyes Lacey knew he couldn’t believe the size of the cavity. She agreed. The cavity looked like a moon crater. Ten years old and the child had never been to the dentist. At least she was holding still while Nick worked. Some of the pediatric patients wiggled like…damn it! Lacey stepped closer and spoke in Nick’s ear.

“If you prep any deeper, you’re going to be doing a root canal instead of a filling.”

At her voice, Nick whipped the handpiece out of the child’s mouth and straightened his back. Lacey watched a flush shoot across his face and she silently grinned. She always flustered the male dental students. Nick swallowed dryly and Lacey saw his Adam’s apple bob below his blue mask. The little girl’s confused eyes blinked at Nick.

Good girl. Very patient with her wannabe dentist.

Lacey glanced at the clock, praying clinic hours were nearly over for Monday. Two hours left. She winced at the surging headache behind her eyes, inflamed by the bright fluorescent lights of the ancient clinic.

And aggravated by the stress of her weekend.

It wasn’t every day she discovered the missing skeleton of her best friend. After hours of being grilled by police on Saturday, she’d slept away the entire next day.

Tranquilizers deterred her nightmares.

She’d broken her cardinal rule by taking the tranquilizers. They were too easy to use for escape.

She’d been on an emotional seesaw since Saturday morning. A heartbreaking ride she hadn’t experienced since her mother died. Lacey rubbed at her temples. The emotions she’d carefully bottled were threatening to explode.

She’d avoided the phone all weekend. Her father had left several messages, but not nearly as many as Michael. She figured Michael had heard about Suzanne early on Saturday, a perk of being a newspaper reporter. Michael knew all about Lacey’s history and Suzanne’s. Every twisted bit of it.

Lacey wasn’t ready to talk.

Michael’s last phone message had said he’d come bang on her door if she didn’t answer the phone. That call had come in Sunday at 2:00 a.m., and Lacey knew he wasn’t bluffing. For an ex-boyfriend turned close friend he was way too protective. She’d sent a text message, “NOT NOW.” The phone calls stopped.