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every day across the country. The ones who didn’t lose their lives lost their homes and their families and their jobs instead.
    Rae knew there were exceptions to these rules: bored kids who took drugs for fun, and adults who did as well, experimenting out of curiosity or because of the monotony of their lives. Their deaths were even more tragic in her mind, because she saw absolutely no reason for them.
    Rae also knew that people who had less access to drugs were less likely to use them. If she could get these pills off the streets, fewer people would die. Fewer kids, and fewer fathers, and fewer veterans. Fewer human beings.
    With her passion for her job, it had been difficult to back down, but after reflecting, she’d realized Paula was right. Life consisted of more than work. At least, other people’s did, but she made it her goal to be more like them. She saw others with nice homes and happy relationships, and she could see herself in those kinds of pictures, snuggling beside the fire with a good book and a beautiful woman.
    First she would buy the house, then spend time in it, and finally show it off to the ladies. The first two steps had gone surprisingly well. The third, not so much. She’d had about a dozen dates in the past year. First dates. Only two second dates, and no third dates. And Rae couldn’t bring a girl home before the third date. What if her new friend turned out to be a psychopath? Then she’d know where Rae lived, and that situation could end in disaster. Even the fierce-looking security guard in the lobby would be defenseless against a psychopath, and Rae just didn’t need that kind of aggravation.
    Rae had knocked on Louis and Nic’s door this evening feeling optimistic that her luck might change. After all, she adored Louis, and reasoned she’d like his friend as well. She’d hoped Nic might be different from the other dozen girls, who had a variety of disqualifying features. Her dates didn’t have to be models, but she refused to go out with anyone who appeared to be wearing a Halloween costume. They didn’t have to be witty, but they did have to laugh at her jokes, at least once in a while. Intelligence was non-negotiable. And so was one other, little factor. Height.
    At five-feet-not-quite-three inches tall, Rae found herself looking up to most of the women she met, but never her dates. She was a tough butch, with a sense of pride, and under no circumstances would she ever stretch onto her tiptoes to kiss a date good night. That height requirement eliminated most of the female population.
    To Rae’s delight, Nic was just as short as she appeared in her photos. She was gorgeous and intelligent. But she hadn’t laughed at a single joke. And she was a bitch. So, in spite of Rae’s hopes, Nic would never make it to the requisite third date and find herself in Rae’s apartment. She wouldn’t even make it to a second.
    After depositing her key in a drawer, Rae made her way across the apartment. Hers was a much smaller version of the adjacent one, with only one bedroom and a smaller combined kitchen and dining area. Just as in Louis and Nic’s, the builder had done a good job, choosing fine granite and quality oak, and the prior tenant’s taste was superb, so Rae had done little other than hire a moving company. She looked forward to coming home to her bright, cheerful apartment at the end of her workday.
    Smiling at herself in the mirror after brushing her teeth, Rae tried not to be too disappointed. She’d had a great dinner. She’d tasted a new wine. And with her friend Louis planning to move in a few weeks, chances were good she’d never have to see Nicole Coussart again.

Chapter Four
What Are Friends For?

    Katie turned around to face her neighbor. She hadn’t considered that Nan would still be peeking through the window when she opted to steal her shoes. Tempted to run, she once again trusted her instincts and instead asked a favor. “Can I come inside?”
    Nan pushed open