She should have talked to Michael. He would have warned her about today’s front-page newspaper article on the recovery. With her coffee in hand, she’d picked the paper off the front porch and felt her throat close as she read the headline. “Remains of the Co-Ed Slayer’s Final Victim Found in Lakefield.” Her throat had eased when her gaze found Michael’s byline. She’d immediately tossed the paper in the recycling, unread, knowing Michael would cut off his hand before he put her name in one of his articles.

In the crowded clinic, Lacey scanned the bustling mass of dental students, patients, and instructors. Not seeing any panicked students trying to catch her eye, she headed for the staff lounge. The bottle of Advil in her purse beckoned.

Making tracks for the clinic door, she stopped at the sight of fumbling fingers in a senior citizen’s mouth. Sighing, she slapped on a pair of gloves and placed her hands over Jeff’s to take control of his weak attempt at an impression of the woman’s lower teeth.

“Pull her lip out. Get the goop down into the vestibule and plant the tray firmly, or your impression won’t look anything like her teeth.” Lacey’s fingers deftly maneuvered the lower lip out of the way and settled the metal tray full of alginate impression material into the correct position. Jeff’s brows were tight in concentration and he glanced at his watch.

“How long should it take to set up?”

“Don’t look at your watch.” She tapped a gloved finger on the sticky pink goo oozing over the woman’s lip. “Just test the texture every twenty seconds or so. When it’s no longer sticky and feels firm, it’s done. It won’t be more than a minute or two.”

Jeff seriously nodded and proceeded to test the alginate every five seconds. Lacey tried not to roll her eyes.

Lacey forced herself to wait with him until the impression was finished. Trying to ignore her blistering headache, she glanced at the Panorex film on the view box, and her gaze flew to the handwritten date on the edge.

“That’s a current film? You took that today?”

The film revealed the patient was edentulous on the maxilla—no teeth on top—and the remaining eight lower teeth each had barely six millimeters of bone holding them in place. A fraction of what it should be. Decades of gum disease had destroyed the bone support, and now the teeth were very, very wiggly.

Jeff nodded, concentrating on checking the sticky goo. “I took it this morning. I need an impression of her remaining teeth before her appointment next week, when we’ll extract them and get her prepared for a lower denture.”

Lacey bit her lip, trying not to grin. She looked around for another instructor, wanting to snag a witness. Darn it. No one was close.

The alginate was finally firm, and Jeff tugged halfheartedly at the tray in the woman’s mouth. Strong suction was keeping it firmly in place.

The patient had an odd look in her pale eyes, but Lacey knew what was about to happen wouldn’t hurt. “Slip a fingertip under the edge to break the seal, then lift.” Lacey mangled the words as she fought to keep her laughter in check. Jeff gave a strong yank.

“Holy crap!”

Jeff dumped the tray in the woman’s lap and sprang out of his chair as his shout rang through the noisy clinic. All eyes turned in their direction. Five bloody teeth smiled at him from the pink goop in the tray.

The patient didn’t budge.

“You OK, hon?” Lacey asked, laying a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

The woman wiped at some alginate stuck to her lip and raised a brow as she took in the mess in her lap. “Didn’t feel a thing. Easiest tooth pullin’ I’ve ever had.” She touched the remaining three teeth in her mouth. “Can you take these out that way too?”

“Hmm.” Lacey tapped a toe, feeling her headache evaporate. “We’ll see what we can do. But definitely no charge for those extractions today.”

“You seen today’s paper?” Terry Schoenfeld didn’t bother with a greeting when Jack answered the phone.

“Yeah, that article and yesterday’s.”

Jack leaned back in his office chair, awkwardly propped up his right leg on the desk, and reread the morning’s article for the fifth time. Focusing on the list with the names and ages of all the victims.

“You remember all that from those killings back then?”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” Jack snapped at his friend.

Terry was silent for two seconds. “Sorry, man. It just isn’t something I think about, I guess. I’d forgotten that they’d never found the remains of the killer’s last victim. And how that one gymnast had the shit beat out of her when she witnessed her friend’s kidnapping. And then she testified against the killer. They never did release her name, did they? I wasn’t caught up in it like you were. Christ. I almost choked when I saw Hillary’s name listed along with the other victims. I’d forgotten that you’d dated her.”

Jack grimaced. He couldn’t forget. Six hours of questioning by the police after the discovery of Hillary’s body was rather memorable. He’d been questioned along with all her other ex-boyfriends. And there were a lot of them. He’d been a little dismayed to be a number on a long list of boyfriends. And acutely distressed to be questioned in a murder case.

Mutual friends had introduced him to Hillary. He’d just graduated; she’d been a freshman. They’d dated for a few weeks, no more. He’d been attracted to her. She was pretty, athletic, and into running, but they had absolutely nothing in common and drifted apart. Not a match made in heaven.