As promised, here is the sequel to I'm Gonna Make This Place Your Home.

Wait for Me to Come Home

"Photograph"

So you can keep me
Inside the pocket
Of your ripped jeans
Holdin' me closer
'Til our eyes meet
You won't ever be alone
Wait for me to come home

Chapter 1.

House leaned back in his office chair, eyes closed, mouth open. A knock at the door preceded the entrance of his team. He righted his chair and his eyes popped open.

A knowing smile on Jacobs lips prompted him to blurt, "I wasn't sleeping."

"Of course not."

He ignored her in favor of the tall young man with the spiked blond hair. "What've you got?" House held out a hand for the folder Simpson clutched to his chest.

"The results on Phyllis Brewster's cognitive tests." Simpson opened the folder and spread it in front of House. "She passed with flying colors."

House grinned. "So, I was right all along. Most of her symptoms were due to dosing by her 'best' friend Mary at the behest of Phyllis' nephew."

"Quite a few people will be happy about that." Magnani caught himself the minute the words left his mouth. "Not the dosing. The fact that she doesn't have to return to Mt. Davids."

"Did you tell her and Iris?"

"We thought we'd let you do the honors, boss."

"Where are they?"

"We sent them up to The Garden."

House bolted from his seat and strode to his door, wondering whether he should tell Phyllis and Iris outright, or keep 'em hanging for a bit longer.

He found them on the same bench he first met George. "Thornton used to sit right there."

Phyllis smiled up at him. "I'll have to tell him we picked the same bench."

Suddenly House's plan to play with her a bit before he gave her the good news evaporated. "When you visit him."

"I'm not going back there?"

His gaze shifted to her niece. "See how sharp she is?"

"That's wonderful, House." Iris rose and dared to put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you so much."

"What did I do?"

"You made it possible for my aunt regain her memory."

"I also proved that your brother should be locked up for a very long time."

###

Cameron ushered her patient out to the reception area. "Carol, Mrs. Jamison will need another appointment in three weeks. I've given her a new prescription for her arthritis. Let's see how this works."

The only one waiting for her was a distressed Bridget Dugan. Her boyfriend wasn't with her. She stood and faced Cameron, wringing her hands.

"Bridget, how can I help you?"

"Is it true? Is my father guilty of all the things they say?" The anguish in her voice touched Cameron's heart.

"Oh, Bridget. I'm sorry. None of us thought to find you and tell you what was happening yesterday." Cameron put a hand on the girl's back. With a glance at Carol, she told her, "Come on back with me and I'll tell you what I know and what we've concluded."

"I can't believe he'd do anything unlawful, harmful to other people." Bridget walked around the examination room, too keyed up to sit.

"You met him only a week or two ago. You can't know what he's capable of." Cameron reached for her arm. "Please sit. It's a long story."

The young woman dropped on the chair where patients' relatives usually sat. "How bad is it?"

"I won't sugar-coat the situation. Ian, your father, was working with Mary Burrell. We think he was the brains behind all they did, but Mary has a mind of her own and may have initiated some actions he knew nothing about." Cameron went on to describe all they'd found over the Labor Day weekend. "They're both in custody now. There's enough proof to put them in prison for some time, but some of what we're thinking has yet to be proven."

Tears coursed down Bridget's face. "I'd only just found him. And now this."

"Bridget, you do have other relatives here. Take some time to get to know your aunt Iris and your great-aunt. I can assure you, they're both lovely women." Cameron remembered they still didn't have the DNA tests back to prove one way or another whether Bridget was Ian's daughter, but Iris and Phyllis were likely to accept her into the family either way.

Bridget slapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, I didn't even think about how they must feel now. Do you know where they are?" She stood. "Maybe I should go to them and offer my support."

"That would be wonderful, but they're in Snow Hill this morning. Phyllis is going through some tests to determine whether she still should be in a nursing home. Her apparent Alzheimer's is one of the things that we and the cops think was caused by Mary and Ian."

"How could they do such a thing to that sweet old lady?" She finally stopped pacing.

"You'd have to ask them when they return to Shelby. So, are you planning to stay in town?"

"I...I don't know."

"Where's your boyfriend?"

"Matt? He had to return to New York for a business meeting."

"So that's where he lives? You mentioned not needing Ian's money, but I never asked whether you work."

Her mouth quirked. "I'm a model, if you call that working. Oh, not the kind who struts the runway at New York Fashion Week. Too short and definitely not slim enough."

"That's good. Most of them are so thin it isn't healthy."

"I'm a hand model." She spread her fingers on the exam table. "Cosmetic companies use me to demo and photograph their latest trends in nail polish and design." Her fingers were long, and the nails beautifully sculptured.

Cameron grinned. "Is most of the work in New York?"

"A lot of it. The companies are all over, but the ad agencies that set up the shoots are there." She didn't sound anxious to return, though.

"What will you do if you decide to stay here? And what about Matt?"

"To tell you the truth, what I've been doing bores me. But I do love Matt. I met him at one of the agencies, in fact." She shook her head. "I don't know. This town has so much charm. I could see settling down here. If only there was something Matt and I could do in Shelby."

A knock at the door alerted Cameron to her next patient.

Bridget smiled at her. "I've kept you long enough. Thanks for telling me what's happening with my father."

"Your aunt and great-aunt should be back soon. Why don't you talk with them when they return?"

"I'll do that."

Cameron walked her out and turned in surprise at the man waiting for her, Owen Marshall. "Come back to the exam room, Mr. Marshall. What can I do for you today?"

"Oh, I'm not sick, Dr. Cameron." He closed the door to the reception area once they were inside. "I wanted to talk to you about a delicate matter, and I hope you'll be discrete about what I tell you."

"If it's not a medical issue, I'm not sure doctor-patient confidentiality applies."

"Of course. This would be more as a colleague. I know we're not friends, but you'll soon be joining us on the town council, and we'll be working together." His eyes never left her face.

"Perhaps it would be better if you told me what this was about." She indicated the seat Bridget had recently occupied. "Please sit down and tell me why you're here."

Marshall inhaled deeply, then slowly let the air out. "You know, of course, that there are factions on the board. I've never hidden the fact that I usually disagree with many of Principal Berman's proposals, for example."

"And you know that I consider him a friend." She raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, yes." Marshall nodded as if he was formulating what he planned to say. "I respect Berman, more maybe than I do some of the others. At least he's an educated man, one with decided views, but those views are based on what he knows, rather than on hearsay and, dare I say it, prejudice. Unfortunately, there are others, I won't name names, but others on the council who are so opposed to the candidacy of Will Davis that they're willing to try some underhanded, and possibly illegal means to prevent him from winning the mayoral race."

She grimaced. "That's so wrong, but I'm not surprised."

"Davis is another friend of yours, isn't he?"

"Yes. He's also the contractor building our house on that property out towards the bay."

"I can't warn him directly, for various reasons, but I hoped you'd do that for me?" His brows went up.

"Without telling him where I heard about it, I suppose."

"Yes." He seemed to relax.

"Mr. Marshall, it would help if I knew and could tell Will who has it in for him, or at least what they're planning."

"It's Owen. I'm afraid I can't tell you either of those things. I will continue to work on him to back down."

"How imminent is any action against Will? Do you want me to contact him today or will tomorrow be soon enough?"

Marshall hesitated. "Whenever you talk to him will help."

"Can I at least say I don't think the danger comes from you? I'd hate to have him distrust you."

"I believe Will Davis might have a good idea of who he should distrust."

"I'll let you know when I've talked to him." She walked him out.

He turned one last time. "I know you'll share this with Dr. House. That's fine, I don't mind."

"Thanks for confiding in me as much as you did."

With Owen Marshall gone, the reception area was empty except for Carol. "You have no more appointments today. Why don't we grab some lunch together for a change?"

Cameron sensed Carol had something to talk to her about. "Sure. The diner? Or someplace more private?"

"The diner will be fine."

They walked together across the alley between the clinic and the crowded parking lot. The diner was full, but House and Cameron's booth waited for them.

Linda poured coffee for them both. "I'll be back to take your orders."

"Take your time." Cameron watched her move on to a booth further down. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"You know we've been trying to get pregnant, right?"

"Yes, I tested both of you last month. There's no reason you can't"

Carol nodded. "I think I may be...I mean, I did one of those home pregnancy tests. But, the only thing is, Seth and I have been having big fights lately. How do I tell him?"

"First let me do a test to confirm before you even worry about how to tell him." Cameron touched Carol's hand across the table. "I won't pry into what you're arguing about..."

"Oh, it's OK. Mostly they've been about the hours he's working. I know I shouldn't resent it, because he's doing his best to provide for us, but sometimes I think he takes extra shifts because he's avoiding me."

"And you accused him of that?"

"I'm afraid I did. How do I undo it?"

"Are you hoping that telling him you're pregnant will make things good between you again?"

"That would be wishful thinking. I just have to decide whether I apologize first or tell him about the baby first?"

"What did he say when you accused him of avoiding you?"

She frowned. "That I was wrong. That he had to show his boss how dedicated he was."

"Then show him you believe that. It will go a long way to smooth things between you. Meanwhile, I'll run the test, and later you can give him the good news."

Carol sipped her coffee as she thought that over.