Chapter 7

[Orchard Cove Police Department—1982

House sat in the sheriff's office waiting for the other man to return. He'd already been to the hospital to have his arm set in a sling. His uncle's bike was a complete wreck after the bullies had trashed it.

After lecturing the four boys, the sheriff had let the bullies go, deciding to focus his attention on the visiting lanky kid from Marquette. "Think you're really big, don't you?"

House glared at him. "I told you. I was riding home with some groceries for my uncle. It isn't my fault that those idiots were in the middle of the street!"

"Watch your tone, Boy," the sheriff lectured. "You'll be treating me with respect."

"Maybe I would if you act like it," House retorted.

"You need a night behind bars. First fighting and now disturbing the peace," the official noted while pushing him into the cell and slamming the door shut behind him. "Let's see what that does for your attitude!"

[Modern Day

"Hey! Answer me!" the same voice bellowed, shaking him from his reverie.

House rolled his eyes as he recognized the voice's source—the elderly sheriff now with white hair and a bushy mustache. "Sorry, I was remembering the last time."

"I see you haven't lost that chip on your shoulder?" Sheriff Struthers inquired testily.

"I think I found it in the corner over there," House retorted sarcastically. "It must've rolled out of the cell after you kicked me out of here."

"House, don't egg on him on," Cuddy urged, trying to keep him from getting arrested.

"All I did was ask for a couple of ginger ales! When the big mouth started on me, I told him to give it a rest. That's it!" House countered. "Why is he giving me the fifth degree?"

"Because of our track record," the official snapped back at him.

"Oh sorry. I wasn't in town long enough to earn my decoder ring. My bad," the diagnostician sassed back. "Why don't you lean on Sandoval and the creep squad?"

"They paid a fine. Why should I believe you? Mr. House, every time you come through here, trouble starts. I pulled your record. You're not exactly high on the police popularity, are you? Care to explain that?"

House chuckled darkly. "Forget it; you aren't worth it."

"What was that?"

"You hard of hearing, Sheriff? Oh right, you want that in officialese. I'll take the fifth as we say in the Big, Big City," House answered.

"That here don't cut it in Orchard Cove, Slick," Struthers retorted.

"Unless one of your local yokels say it. They assaulted me. Funny, I thought the victim got the right of way. Must be a big city thing again." House locked eyes with the sheriff. "Want my respect? Here's a tip—earn it. Either charge me or let me go. Quit with the damn games! I had enough of those the last damn time."

"You're lucky, House, that you have ten witnesses who are backing up your story. Fine. You can go. I want you out of Orchard Cove though by noon tomorrow. Got it? Miss Cuddy, make sure he and you are both on the road," the sheriff told them both.

"Perfectly. Now I wish I hadn't called you all those years ago," Cuddy replied, stepping out of character to fire back that shot. "I called you to help him not harass him! Come on, House. Let's get back to the hotel. I think we need to talk."

"You've got that right," he concurred while angrily limping out of the room and toward the car as fast as he could.

Cuddy bowed her head and ran her hands through her hair, wondering how she was going to deal with this crisis.