The next few days passed in a blur. Ecklie appointed Catherine the acting head of the crime lab while Grissom was in the hospital. Every day, one of them managed to go see Grissom and give Catherine an update so she could tell Heather. Heather, for her part, looked forward to this information, but she didn't know what she'd do with it yet. However, she was pleased to note that she had guessed right when it came to Sara. Two days after the hospital, Sara arrived at the Dominion and quickly got used to being submissive. A couple days later, Heather was sitting in her den, reading The Emerald Tablet when she heard a knock on her door. She put down her book and stood up, "Yes?"

"It's Devon, Lady Heather. You have a phone call."

"Who is it?" Heather was puzzled, because Catherine knew to call using the private number.

"It's Annette. She's on hold, line 3."

"Thank you, Devon." Heather picked up the phone and pressed the button for line 3. "Annette! It's good to hear from you. I'm sorry that I haven't called you."

"It's not a problem, La—Heather. I've been working with private individuals, which gives me time to be a bit more casual. You have to run the whole Dominion."

"Speaking of the Dominion, you're missed around here. You were the best Dominatrix we had and while Devon is very good at what she does, you and Mona topped her in talent."

"About being the best, we were only when you didn't exert yourself. And why isn't Mona there? Did she move away as well?"

"No, she . . . died. She was suffocated."

"Did you find out who did it?"

"A man named Cameron Nelson. He was one of her after-hours clients. She switched for him, and he ended up suffocating her because he was angry at his wife."

"How did you find that out? If she was doing after-hours work, the names wouldn't be on the books."

"The police and the Crime Lab here in Vegas."

"Really? Most police officers wouldn't want to help people in the fetish business, even in Las Vegas."

"I suspect it had to do with the influence of the night-shift supervisor, a man named Gil Grissom." To anyone who didn't know her well, she would have sounded slightly grateful and very placid. To Annette, who had been trained in the ways of domination by the very woman on the other end of the line, very little was hidden.

"I take it something about that man is a sore subject." Annette's voice was more gentle than it had been in years.

"Well, he is a . . . unique individual. He doesn't judge me for what I do, just who I am. He's spent more time simply talking to me than many others except for employees. Plus, he's got the most adorable baby-blue eyes."

"Heather! Are you saying you love this man?"

"Yes, but he doesn't want anything from me that I'm not willing to give him. Because of that, I think I'm willing to give him my all."

"So why is it a sore subject?"

"He's in the hospital, comatose. He's been that way for a week and they can't figure out what's wrong with him."

"I have an idea that may help him."

"I'm listening."

"Bring him out here to Jersey."

"Why? For another doctor to take a look at him? Wouldn't it be easier to fly the doctor here to Vegas?"

"Normally yes. But the doctor I'm suggesting look at this man is Dr. Gregory House."

"The Dr. House? The famous diagnostician with the bedside manner of a pissed-off wolverine?"

"That's him. He's the head of the department of diagnostic medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and he's very good at what he does."

"I'll talk to his doctor and see if he can be transported across the country."

"Well, it's been nice talking to you, Heather. If you end up coming out here, give me a call, I know several submissives who could benefit from your singular talent."

"Thank you. Good-bye."

"'Bye."

Heather hung up the phone, smiling at the compliment that Annette had given her. Then she looked at the clock. She noticed that it was just after two in the afternoon. She decided to wait until 3 or so to call Catherine.