“Be sure to turn off the lights when you leave,” he said, flipping them on.

“Of course,” I promised. “And thanks so much.”

I thought he’d go scooting right back to Barney and Condoleezza. But no, he just stood there watching me. So I walked over to the nurse’s station, as if I were really there to do some work. Someone had cleaned up in the wake of Hurricane Medusa, and things were neat, if somewhat devoid of electronic appliances. I took a seat at one of the desks and reached for a pad and pen.

“Thanks again,” I said to Chester, flashing him another grin.

“Sure thing,” he nodded, and finally walked off, jangling his keys.

The minute he was gone, I made a beeline for Marty’s office, which I found at the end of a plushly carpeted hallway. The room was done in sleek teak furniture, very Danish Dental Moderne.

But I wasn’t there to check out the décor; I had some serious snooping to do. I hurried over to Marty’s desk, which was noticeably free of wifely photos, and started scavenging through his drawers.

I found the usual assortment of paper clips and Post-its, along with a box of Dr. Martin Meyers, D.D.S. ballpoint pens. Tucked beneath the Dr. Marty pens were some greeting cards from Cissy. The kinds with kittens on the covers and messages like You’re Purrrfect inside. I was right about her. She did dot her i’s with little valentines.

The bottom right-hand drawer yielded a Beverly Hills Yellow Pages, a box of contraceptive sponges and enough condoms to stock a drugstore. Marty may have been a lying cheating amoral piece of slime, but at least he practiced safe sex.

I sighed, disappointed. So far, plenty of evidence of adultery. But none of blackmail.

Next I checked out Marty’s teak credenza, but all that held was a bottle of scotch and a couple of dental textbooks. I rummaged through the pockets of the scrubs in his closet but came up empty-handed.

Then, on an impulse, I sat down on the floor and started rifling through Marty’s textbooks. The thick volumes would make a perfect hiding place.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find any blackmail letters, but I did find several glossy photos of Nurse Medusa stretched out on Marty’s dental chair, naked except for a spit bib.

Just when I was making a mental note to never again sit in a dentist’s chair without first disinfecting it, I heard—

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I looked up and saw Marty glowering in the doorway.

I’d been so engrossed in the adventures of Nurse Medusa, I hadn’t heard him coming. Damn that carpeting in the hallway. It had obviously muffled his footsteps.