Chapter 9

Who Can You Trust?

We drove to the hospital and House called the lab that he and his team used to run tests on items that they confiscated from patient's homes and places of work. I reached in and took out the cork from the plastic bag.

"Greg! Look!"

I showed him the top of the cork. It was deformed in the middle by the cork screw, but on the side there was also a deformation, as if a pipe or needle had been pushed down the side between the cork and the bottle.

"Interesting." House stopped and examined it. "We need for the police to do this. If we destroy evidence that could vindicate me; I'm up the creek."

"The detectives that talked to me didn't seem that interested in finding you innocent. We need someone who's a straight arrow--more interested in justice than closing a file."

"I know the guy." House said with a frown.

"Who?"

"Detective Michael Tritter."

"Friend of yours?"

"No, he hates my guts."

"And you want to trust him with the evidence?"

"He's the kind that would do the right thing just to prove he wasn't prejudiced against me."

"Let's call him." I saw the distaste in his expression. He really disliked this Tritter guy. "Greg, we can call one of the other detectives."

"They're not going to listen. Susan's family is too wealthy. They're going to want to button this case up quickly and I'm their favorite button. Hey, what did you do with that sample you took from me?"

"I gave it to Cuddy to test. I doubt the results will be back until tomorrow."

"Shit. I guess we should call Tritter."

"Do you want me to do it?"

"No, if I do it he'll get a hard on just hearing me ask for help. He'll be all over this like white on rice."

While we waited for Detective Tritter we went up to see Susan. She was still unconscious. House leaned over her and stroked her hair. "Susan, you need to fight."

"Greg, look. She has a fever." I went over to the bed and rang for the nurse. After ordering tests and antibiotics I looked up to see a look on House's face that made my blood run cold. He was staring over my shoulder and he wasn't happy. I turned and saw a man, approximately 6'6", short white hair, handsome, standing just outside the door. "Is that Detective Tritter?"

House nodded.

I stepped out and shook the man's hand. "Detective Tritter, can you come to my office?" I stuck my head in the door. "Greg, it's not a good idea for you to be alone with Susan, it wouldn't look good. Come with us."

House grimaced, but followed me. We closed the door to my office and I took the seat behind my desk. Tritter remained standing, his height was so formidable it gave me the feeling that he had all the power in the room. House leaned up against my short book case.

"Why am I here, Dr. House?" He turned pointedly and stared at Greg.

"I asked him to call you here. I wanted a police officer to take possession of a piece of evidence and frankly, I don't trust the detectives in charge of the case." I said pointedly.

"I'm not going to interfere with their investigation." He said, chewing a piece of gum in a slow methodical move.

"We don't expect you to. We want to hand it to you and tell you our thoughts about it."

Greg had his arms crossed over his chest and a frown etched like a prune into his face. Tritter was just as sour in his countenance.

"Fine, what is it?"

I handed the plastic bag to him. "It's a cork off of the wine bottle that Greg drank out of last night. The wine bottle itself is missing, but if you look at the cork, you can see that something indented it on the side as if it was slipped down between the cork and the bottle. Greg slept through Susan Friday being stabbed and we think it was because he was drugged.

"You do, do you?" Tritter said sarcastically.

House was about to say something, but I held up a hand. "Yes. We hope that you at least run tests on the cork to see if it has trace chemicals. It's all we ask."

Tritter looked at me as if he was contemplating what to do. Then he turned to House. "Still on Vicodin?"

House shook his head. "You were right; I started to hallucinate, ended up in Mayfield. I've been off Vicodin for over a year."

Tritter's face barely changed, but I did note a tinge of surprise and it was clear that he hadn't expected Greg to be so forthright. He put his hand up to his mouth and finally nodded. "I'll log it in and send it to the lab. Where did you find it?"

"Trash can in Susan's loft."

"No bottle?"

Greg spoke up. "It was missing. We were drinking a 2002 Neckenmarkt, an easy bottle to recognize because there aren't that many floating around."

Tritter was writing this in a little notebook. "Okay, any other evidence you took from the scene?"

"Detective," I said while swallowing hard. "Greg and I took this cork after the police had done their search. There is one more thing."

"What?"

"I took a blood sample of Greg's blood before the police arrived."

"Did they take one too?"

I shook my head. "We should have the results back late this afternoon or tomorrow."

Tritter sighed with frustration. "Well, I can't fault you for that. They could have taken a sample too if they had wanted one. Just let them know the results when you're done. If there's nothing else, I'll get this to the lab?"

I shook my head.

Tritter left without saying anything else. I looked over at House. "He's not very fond of you, is he?"

"The feeling is mutual."

"Well, I think he was a good choice. No one can claim that we shopped for a favorable cop, can they?"

"Come on, I'm tired." House growled.

"I am too."

We stopped to see Susan once more before leaving. The antibiotics had been hooked up and she was resting peacefully.

Driving home, House seemed quiet, subdued, contemplative. I didn't bother asking what was going on in his head; I was afraid he might tell me. Once in the loft, House collapsed on the sofa and watched a little news. I called Cuddy and told her that, with the exception of taking care of Susan, I needed the next day off. She wasn't happy, but she said she'd get someone to cover my schedule. With the exception of my class, the only other concern was one of my transplant patients who I was scheduled to do a liver transplant from his brother in two days. I usually saw may patient a few days before the scheduled transplant, but I'd have to leave it in the hands of the transplant team and my protégé, Jason Shapiro.

"You're taking the day off?" House asked.

"I think you should too. We need to put our heads together. Let's assume the wine is drugged. That means that someone got into Susan's apartment, knew the alarm number, drugged the wine, either waited in the apartment until you went to bed or came back and stabbed Susan, set the alarm and left. A lock can be picked, or a window opened, but someone had to know the alarm code. Who knew the code?"

"I did. Susan did. You did." He said with emphasis on me.

"And?"

"The alarm company. Maybe it was someone from the alarm company."

"Did she have anyone out to repair it?"

House shrugged. "Not that I know of."

"Were there any repairmen that she had to give the alarm code to?"

House rolled his eyes and shook his head. "As if I would know. I don't think so. Christ is this going anywhere?"

"Greg! I'm just trying to help."

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. "Yeah, I know." When he looked up I was struck by how forlorned he looked. I went over and sat next to him, putting a hand on his back for comfort.

"I know you're worried. We're going to figure this out."

He started shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at me. My hand slid off his back. "Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you being nice to me?" There was a mixture of suspicion and gratitude.

"Because I want the real person caught…because you're Susan's boyfriend."

"But, you hate me."

"Yeah, I'm not your biggest fan, but Susan seems to think you're okay. I just want to be able to say that I did whatever I could to prove who was really responsible."

"Maybe you're doing this because you did it."

My jaw hit the floor. "You don't believe that! Do you? Why would I do it?"

"Like the detective said, you really want me for yourself." He said it without cracking a smile.

I paused, trying to read him and then started howling with laughter; he joined in. It was just what we needed. When I finally caught my breath I sat back and sighed.

"I'm really worried, Greg. If she gets an infection in her heart it could be fatal."

"Yeah, believe it or not that's an MD at the end of my name. I know what it could mean."

"Do you know if they took anything from the apartment?"

"Besides the bottle? No, it didn't look like it to me."

"So, someone wanted her dead."

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. What gave it away? The knife in the heart?"

I smiled at him. "I take it that the two of you made up last night."

"What gave you that impression?"

"The fact that you were both naked this morning when I arrived."

"Admit it; you were impressed with what I have to offer. All the ladies are."

I laughed at his joke. "I'm glad it worked out. But you were a jerk for screwing up her party."

"I offered to make it more of a party, but she just wasn't into a six-some."

"What if they were really after everyone at that party?"

"Frightened? You want me to sleep with you to keep you safe? Strike that—you saw how that worked out for Susan."

I cracked a smile, but the truth was I was a little unnerved by the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone wanted all of us dead and House had foiled their plan. He must have seen my concern because he snickered at me.

"If they had wanted the entire group of women; they would have dosed all of your drinks. They didn't. But the offer to sleep with you still stands."

"You wish."

"I'm not the one who was staring at my package this morning."

"There are different reasons for staring, not all are good."

He snorted and laughed. "Have you ever been married?"

I shook my head.

"I figured."

"You've never been married either, right?"

"Never."

I saw he was about to make a remark. "No…no comments from you."

He chuckled and leaned back. There was an awkward silence. Finally, House turned to me, his brow furrowed in thought, "Her code, is there some background to it?"

"Well, it's her student i.d. from med school."

"You're joking." He tsked and then turned his head.

Our faces were less than a foot apart. I suddenly felt a wave of butterflies as I stared into his too-too blue eyes. I shrugged. "Why would I joke?"

"Does she always use that number as her code?"

"I'm not sure, but she did in Boston and here."

"So, we're not just dealing with just the three of us, but with anyone who knew her alarm code in Boston?"

"Isn't that a little far fetched?" I was still trying to cope with the twitter in my abdomen and the fact that I could smell his warm, musky smell and what Susan had said about his abilities. Then I felt incredibly guilty and confused.

"No, this was a very personal attack…so we have to look at those who know her personally."

"Oh, can we do this in the morning? I'm really, really tired." I said, trying to get some distance between the two of us.

"Okay. I'm going to stay up for a few minutes and watch tv. My leg is aching."

"I have a Jacuzzi bath if you want to take one."

"Your bathroom?"

I nodded. "Why don't you go ahead and take a bath, I'll clean up a little in the kitchen."

"Thanks." He disappeared into the guest room and then I heard the door open and my bedroom door close. I started cleaning up the living room and then started on the kitchen, putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, cleaning the counters and sweeping. He had been in the bathroom for half an hour when I heard the draining of water indicating he was getting out of the bath. I was just finishing up, putting the sugar back in the pantry when something jumped out at me and then something else scurried along the floor. I'm not afraid of mice unless they surprise me and these two surprised me. The scream I let out brought a wet House, wrapped in a towel around his waist out of the bedroom, holding up his cane as he ran out to defend me. The towel dropped just as I jumped at his body for protection. He fell back and I fell on top of him.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! They went under the sink."

"Under the sink? What are you talking about?" he yelled.

"Mice!"

He drew in a deep breath of frustration. "You screamed because you saw mice?"

I grabbed his hand and put it on my heart. "Feel that! It scared me!"

"Mice frighten you?"

"Only if they come out of nowhere." From the tone of his voice, I realized how ridiculous I sounded. I sighed and then I realized my body was on his slightly wet, naked body and my mouth was only inches from his. I looked at his lips and then up into his eyes wondering why this was so confusing. I needed to get off of him and get away, but he made the first move, rolling to the side so that I dropped onto the floor and then he looked around for the towel, grabbing it and wrapping it around his waist again.

He gave me a naughty smile. "You wanted to kiss me."

I mustered all the bravado I could. "I did not! You're the last person I'd want to kiss."

"Oh, no, you wanted me." He pointed a finger at me and wagged it.

I grabbed the finger and clenched my jaw. "I did not. You're a meglomaniac! You think everyone wants you."

He snickered again. "You like me."

"Oh, right! I like you like a hangnail…it's great when it's gone!"

"Do you want me to go on a mouse hunt? I took down the mob in Wilson's loft."

"You mean everyone has mice in this building?"

"It's fairly common on the east coast."

"Did Susan have mice? I mean, maybe she gave her alarm number to a pest control company."

House shook his head. "When I told her about Wilson's she made a big deal about the fact that having a penthouse had its perks…too high for the mice to climb."

"Wishful thinking…mice go anywhere."

"She knew that, she was just joking, but she didn't have mice."

"So much for that theory."

I quickly realized that we were both on our sides, lying on the floor like an old married couple talking in bed. It seemed extremely intimate and so I jumped up and looked down at him. Staring up, he seemed baffled by my move.

"I know I don't smell, I just used some of your lavender bath oil. Is it my masculine presence? It is somewhat overwhelming for most virgins."

"Yeah, that must be it. You're too much for me to handle."

"I could train you."

Sighing, I put a fist on my hip and assumed my best 'annoyed' posture. "I know you're joking, but please remember that you're living with my best friend who is now fighting for her life."

I received a look of total disgust. "You think I don't know it? Why do you think I'm joking around? When I stop, all I can think of is her lying there with the knife handle moving with the beat of her heart."

"Sorry." I said contritely. "I know you're concerned. I'm just edgy—time to call it a night. See you in the morning." I turned and walked into my bedroom, took a quick shower, dressed in my short nightgown and climbed in bed. I tried reading for awhile, watched a little television and then I turned out the light, but my mind kept replaying everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, including my butterfly response to being near House. My whole world had been turned on its head.

I still couldn't sleep so I jumped up and dressed. When I went out to the living room to get my purse and keys, House sat up and looked at me. He was now dressed in what looked like cotton lounging pants and a t-shirt. The little clock on the DVR said it was two am.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go check on Susan."

He jumped up, "Did they page you?"

I held out my hands to calm him. "No! No, no. I just can't sleep."

"Hold on, I'll go with you." He hobbled back to the bedroom and a few minutes later was back and dressed, ready to go.

It felt as if the entire world was asleep as we drove through the town, not seeing a single oncoming car until we turned onto Nassau. When we arrived at PPTH, the parking lot was almost empty and the only activity was an ambulance that was being washed out by a paramedic.

We made our way in silence up to Susan's room and checked her vitals, looked at the chart and determined that not much had changed. I went to my office and was surprised to find that I had an email waiting for me from the lab that we had sent Greg's blood to. I printed the result and went running back to Susan's room, finding Greg in one of the chairs.

"Whoa, that's a big smile." Greg said, his brow knitted in curiosity.

"Rohypnol, your blood had Rohypnol in it!"

"Who wanted to rape me?"

"Ha, ha. You know, it probably saved Susan."

"What planet did you say you were from?"

"Really, I've been blown away by this. Susan's nick to her heart was small, but the amount of blood she lost was still a lot. She could easily have died of blood loss. I suspect the attack was around three or four, something like that. She only survived because the roofie slowed her heart down…she would have been pumping more blood if she hadn't been drugged."

He gave me a little nod. "Now who's Sherlock? You're probably right."

"We'll turn over the results tomorrow to your favorite detective. The amount was high enough in your system that you couldn't have been awake when this happened."

"Have I told you that I love you!" He said with gusto and a funny look.

"Greg! Susan might hear that and mistake…"

"Oh, give me a break. She's out of it and besides, she knows how much we hate each other."

I was hurt by his words. I know we 'hated' each other, but after all we had been through during the day, I thought we had built up some trust in each other, some respect. I couldn't let him see my distress so I turned towards Susan. "You're right. Susan knows I can't stand you."

I sat in the chair next to his and stared into space. He jumped up and went to the door.

"I'm going down to my office. I've got a nice chair to sleep in down there." And then he took off leaving me alone with Susan.

Dear Readers! I hope you're enjoying this. I'd love to hear from you! Please review! Thanks, Kim (Gorby.)