July 5
Chapter 28
It had been two weeks since Dr. Fleming came back to work and the Houses hadn't seen a trace of her. They had nearly given up on the idea that she remained a threat to them as they went about their normal routines in the hospital. It was during a late-night shift for House, as he sat in the empty cafeteria, that he looked up from his Reuben to see the blond doctor standing at the edge of his small table. He continued chewing his food as he watched her. Her expression remained lifeless as she stared at him, until tears started falling from her eyes. Still, her expression didn't change.
"I don't understand what I ever did to you, Greg," she told him as he continued chewing his food. "So I liked you–so I had a bit of an infatuation with you. Did you find it that threatening to your marriage that you had to be so cruel? Why do you continue to crucify me by defending that animal who took my daughter from me?"
"I'm defending that "animal" because he isn't the one who took your daughter from you. I don't know who did–but I do know that it wasn't Ryan Schreffler."
"Don't you dare mention that boy's name to me. He took my daughter from me the moment he convinced her that he was in love with her."
"And just when was that Fleming?"
She stared at him a moment, then went on with her dull tone. "You think I didn't notice how you watched me those first months that I started working here? You invited me to come to your office for consults, and then even started including James. I wouldn't have minded–whatever you would have wanted, I would have been a part of. Then, because your wife decided that your son was too good for my Tara, they both convinced you to not see me anymore."
House looked around the large room, looking to see if there was anyone else within hearing distance that could be witnessing this, but there was no one.
"If you're talking about telling you not to come to my office anymore–my son's relationship had nothing to do with it. Your daughter had nothing to do with it."
"Then why are you still defending that bastard!"
"Because he didn't do it!"
"He did! And your son may as well have swung that flashlight that night–he was just as responsible for her death as that piece of trash!"
House picked up his sandwich and got to his feet. He walked past her and threw it into the garbage, then left the cafeteria. He could feel the hair standing on the back of his neck as he walked away from her and a strange fear made him bypass his office and go to the lobby where there were other people still milling about. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Foreman's number, quickly arranging for the other doctor to come in and take over his shift. Within fifteen minutes, Foreman arrived and House left, having already called Attorney Anderson.
"Greg. Come in," Barry Anderson opened his front door as he stood in his blue jeans and t-shirt, but remained without his shoes.
"Hello, Dr. House," Barry's wife, a young beauty with honey-colored hair, stood behind her husband as she hugged her robe around herself. "May I get you a cup of coffee or anything?"
"No, thank you."
"Come in and sit down," Barry started toward his dining room where he took a seat at the table. "What's so urgent?"
"Amanda Fleming stopped to talk to me tonight. She wants to know why I'm crucifying her by continuing to defend Ryan."
"Well, I guess that's to be expected. She's taking it personally. I suppose most people would."
"She also said she knew I was watching her the first few months she worked with us–and she insinuated that I was trying to set up a tryst with Wilson, her and myself."
"I hate to have to ask this, Greg–but could there be any truth to that?"
"Truth to what? That I was watching her? I don't know. I wasn't "not" watching her–if she hadn't been coming down for the consults, I probably wouldn't have noticed her."
"No, about you and Wilson."
House looked at him a moment. "No–there is no truth to it. I don't–and as far as I know, Wilson doesn't–get into other men. And even if I did–I think I'd want my wife involved instead of that dried out prune."
Barry had to smile in spite of himself. "Okay, so her concept of reality is a bit off kilter. That must have been rather upsetting to you."
"She went on about Ryan and Tony. And, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Okay. I'm listening."
"As far as I know, they haven't found the murder weapon yet–have they?"
"No. Not what they decided gave her the killing blow. All they could come up with was that it had a thin, rounded edge."
"I think you better start looking for a flashlight."
"Well, that certainly would fit the description. But what makes you think it was a flashlight?"
"Tonight–she told me that Tony may as well have been the one to swing that flashlight–the fact that they haven't found the weapon yet, sort of perked my curiosity, made me wonder how or even why she would have suggested it was a flashlight. She also said that Ryan took Tara away from her the moment he convinced her that he was in love with her. We need to find out from the kid when that was–because if he confessed his feelings for her the night she died–I'd wonder how her mother knew about it to begin with–then I think she just gave us a motive for her killing her daughter."
"I'll get on this right away, Greg. If she realizes she let it slip about the flashlight, then we don't have much time. I want you to go home and make sure everything's locked up tight there. There's no telling where this woman's mind is right now–so just to be on the safe side, go make sure your family is secure." They both got to their feet and started for the front door. "Oh, by the way–we checked into their dog, and yes, it was there the night Tara died. Victor Becker had no answers as to why the dog didn't bark and wake him up while his daughter was being attacked."
House simply nodded and started out the door. The summer heat of August was stifling and he was glad he was on his cycle. He locked his cane into place then got on the bike, started it, and then took off for the place he most wanted to be.
