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got some unpleasant news this week—Steve has been dating Bridget Kelly, one of her best friends in Lake Forest.”
    “But, Erin, Mallory wanted the divorce. Why would Steve’s seeing anyone upset her?”
    “She found out from somebody that those two were seeing each other
before
the divorce. Dad, Bridget was a guest in their home so many times—it’s one thing to be betrayed by your husband, but by a woman you trusted? A close friend? I just … I know she’s feeling a little rocky, that’s all.”
    “Oh …” He hated the sound of that. Mallory was just getting her life back on track. She was completing a graduate degree in business, she was seeing a psychiatrist she liked and, as far as he could tell, she was not drinking. He knew from his own experience that “rocky” was not good.
    “Bruce, I’m sure you know that a human bite leaves a unique impression,” said Osborne. “In a situation like this, is the same true of a knife?”
    “Sure,” said Bruce, “any cutting tool. Take hacksaws, which happen to be the tool of choice these days—easily available, easily disposed of, very efficient cutting edge. And every hacksaw leaves a definitive mark on bone that can be easily traced.”
    “Hacksaws?” said Osborne, emphasizing the plural. “Are you trying to tell us dismembering bodies is all that common?”
    “Dr. Osborne, the interstate highways between Milwaukee, Madison, and Chicago are
haunted
with drug deals gone bad. Hacksaws, chainsaws. When I was at the university, we called it Chain Saw Alley. But most of those cases involve cutting through bone—nowhere near the touch I saw today—and usually they cut up the whole body.”
    “Ah,” said Lew, “that’s what I’ve been wondering—why just the legs?”
    “I have an idea,” said Bruce. “I need to see more before I say anything. And check some files. I don’t want to send us off in the wrong direction.
    “But going back to what Dr. Osborne asked: Yes, the slash marks from a knife will leave distinctive markings. Once I get to work on those, we’ll have something to go on. Granted it’s not as good as if he had cut through bone—”
    “So you’re not looking for a woman?” said Osborne.
    “How often do you see a female orthopedic surgeon? Bone work takes a great deal of physical strength.”
    “You two worry about slash marks; I want to find
where
those two were killed and
how,”
said Lew.
    “We’ll likely know the cause of death sometime tomorrow, Chief Ferris. This deep freeze makes our job a whole lot easier.”
    Bruce’s reference to the deep freeze reminded Osborne of the young woman lying so perfectly preserved beneath her coverlet of ice and snow. He was anxious to do his own exam. More than once he had used teeth and dental work to identify a victim. Even if he didn’t know the individual, he might recognize the work of their dentist. Whether it be a crown, an amalgam filling, an implant or a denture—every dentist leaves a signature as unique as the teeth they treat.
    And unlike Lew’s law enforcement colleagues in adjoining towns and counties, dentists stay in touch. A past president of the Wisconsin Dental Society, Osborne had remained active with the local chapter of the organization in spite of his retirement. If that young woman had dental work done within a six-county radius, he was likely to know exactly where and by whom. And if he didn’t know, he knew whom to call.
    Tuning back into the conversation between Bruce and Lew, he heard Bruce say, “Bones are biohazards—if people aren’t careful they can be infected with something like HIV. Same with teeth, right Dr. Osborne?”
    “Oh, gosh, that reminds me,” said Osborne jumping to his feet. He headed for the back porch. Reaching into the pocket of his hunting vest, he felt for the packet he had wrapped so carefully out in the woods. Back in the kitchen, he set it down on the table, turned up the rheostat on the antler chandelier suspended overhead,