Chapter 35. It's News to Me

Fishing out on Chesapeake Bay proved to be very conducive to thinking. House wondered why he never thought of doing something like this before. There were no interruptions from irate bosses, or even more irate relatives of patients. No one questioning his methods. Just Pete, sitting in the other seat, waiting for a pull on his line.

He thought about the four members of the council who voted against his request to purchase the Chatham place. He knew so little about each of them.

"Pete, before their disagreement over the sponsorship of the school teams, were Berman and DiMonaco friends?" he suddenly asked.

"Funny thing that. They grew up together, went to school together. I wouldna say they wuz friends, exactly, but never enemies neither," Pete said. "Don't even know why DiMonaco pulled his sponsorship. You might have ta ask him."

House nodded, and went back to pondering. Maybe half an hour, and a couple of fish each, later, though, he asked, "Why is Patton so gung-ho about having a developer come in and build condos?"

"Ya gotta see it from his view," Pete said. "They build 'em, and then they have ta advertise, right? That could be revenue fer him. An' bringin' in the kind what might buy condos could bring money to Shelby."

"That makes sense, I guess," House said. He decided to wait to ask about Mrs. Bradford and Quentin Marshall. The fish were beginning to bite more frequently, and he and Pete were too busy reeling them in to talk. By seven in the morning they'd each caught about half a dozen fish, including two channel catfish and a foot-long striped bass. "What do we do with these?" House asked.

"Eat 'em, a'course," Pete said. "Days I catch a few dozen, I sell 'em to Luigi at the market in town. Not the WaWa. They got corp'rate suppliers. But the small markets, they depend on us fishermen."

"How long have you been fishing like this?"

"All my life," Pete said with a chuckle. "But it's only bin since I come here that I do it reg'lar."

House realized he didn't know what Pete did before. Did he have a job somewhere? A family? "And before that?"

Pete grinned at him. "I was in the Merchant Marines Service," he said.

"A Mariner?" House asked. He knew that wasn't the same as the service his father was in. And Pete couldn't be old enough to have served in World War II. "Where'd you sail?"

"Mostly the Atlantic routes," Pete said. "Hit some inneresting ports o' call, ya might say. Now that was the life!"

"When did you leave the Merchant Marines?"

"'Bout ten, twelve years ago. Came home to Shelby, got me a boat and a piece o' land. Been here ever since," Pete said.

"So you're originally from around here," House concluded.

"Yup. My daddy had a farm 'tother side of town. It's a mighty fine place ta live."

The more House learned about Pete Carver, the more he liked the man. Nothing pretentious about him. Just a man who enjoyed his life. House wished he could be that way, but he'd always been driven, his mind always in motion, and his body, too, until the ability to do everything he wanted was taken from him.

Maybe here in Shelby he could calm his overactive brain, learn to relax and enjoy his life, too.

–

While House and Pete floated out on the bay, Cameron was making a valiant attempt to reorganize the clinic and take stock of what supplies she had and what she'd need to replace. She had the promised help of Chrissy and Carol, so it wasn't all on her shoulders, but neither of them knew what drugs and medical items were needing on a continuous basis in a clinic as busy as this one was.

The front door opened and, although they were in the back, they could all hear it close again. Carol went immediately to see who it was.

"Oh, hello Carol," Pamela Bradford said. "I was surprised to see the clinic open today. Is Dr. Cameron here?"

"I'll go get her. She's doing inventory in the back."

A minute later, Cameron appeared in the front room of the clinic. "You're Mrs. Bradford, aren't you? May I help you?"

"Yes, Pamela Bradford. I understand that Dr. House helped you in the clinic during the storm," she stated.

"Yes, and afterwards as well," Cameron responded. "Actually, I've known him for several years."

"Then, would you consider him reliable and trustworthy?"

Cameron had no idea why this well-dressed middle-aged woman would be asking such a question. The truth was those weren't the adjectives she'd ever use to describe House. Brilliant, absolutely, complicated, without a doubt, and very sexy. "Why do you ask?"

"I need to know how serious he is about converting the old Chatham place into a park, a lovers' lane, and a love nest for himself," Mrs. Bradford said.

Cameron felt the color drain from her face. Was that what House was planning? But why? She understood his need to set up a department at the hospital rather than work with her at the clinic. She thought his friendship with Pete and their jaunt this morning would be good for both of them, so she didn't mind him leaving her to inventory the clinic with Chrissy and Carol. But was he already planning to leave her?

Yes, he'd complained the night before about the stairs and the small size of her place, but that was typical House grumbling that she'd come to expect and never knew whether to take seriously. A love nest? She could imagine him telling the council that. And she knew, sadly, that he'd used prostitutes in the past. Wasn't she enough for him after all?

He'd said she'd be happy about his plan, but how could she be happy about what Mrs. Bradley described? Certainly the woman had no reason to lie about it.

She fell back on the mantra she'd used many times before. "He'll always do the right thing."

Mrs. Bradford frowned. "How can you be so sure about that?"

Cameron had defended House before and found herself doing it again. "He has his own set of ethics. They may not be the same as yours or even mine, but there's always a method to his madness." That hadn't come out exactly the way she wanted. She hoped she'd gotten the point across, but felt the need to elaborate. "He sometimes uses unusual methods to get the results he wants when he's diagnosing a patient, but he's more successful than most doctors and has saved the lives of many people whose doctors had given up on them."

The woman still looked skeptical. "Well, if you say so," she said, sounding completely unconvinced. "Thank you for your time, Doctor." With that, Mrs. Bradford left.

Cameron couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. What hare-brained scheme was House working on? It didn't sound like anything he'd ever done before. He'd certainly never wanted property or a home of his own. His apartment in Princeton hadn't been much larger than Cameron's was here. How was she going to find out what he was up to?