We're back from a weekend away. Sorry this is a day late.

Chapter 120.

Once I dropped Jess off to meet her sister at the printers, I turned my car towards the hospital. Maybe I'd have a quiet late morning before anything else happened.

It was quiet in my office. No one was in the conference room, and there were no files on my desk. I donned my earbuds and pumped up the music, leaning back in my chair to let ideas percolate. The events of the night before had been a jarring experience. Something about the failed attack on Ricky didn't sit right with me. How did Giancarlo know where to find Ricky? And why did he try an attack in public? Was he only trying to scare Ricky? To warn him? He had to know Ricky would then take precautions, making it more difficult than ever to get to him. Or was his mission meant to fail? That would support my theory that Molino knew the Locarnos had nothing to do with Francesca's death, he only needed to make it look like he suspected them.

Now that sounded right. So maybe Ricky and Marcello weren't in danger after all. Molino had to be trying to prove something. The question was to whom.

Every line of reasoning I'd pursued lately came back to the same thing. Only Molino had the answers, and somehow I had to confront him about it.

The plan with the car shop might work to bring him to New Jersey, but Ricky was right. It would take too long. True, if the Locarnos weren't really in any danger, we had time. But I'd never been that patient.

I exploded out of my chair. There was something else I could do.

Cuddy was in her office, as I expected. She looked up with a frown when I approached. "Not now, House."

"How do you know why I'm here?"

"Whatever it is can't be good. You're grinning one of your maniacal grins." She sighed. "Alright, what is it? I know you won't go away until you tell me."

"Do you know anyone at the hospital in Palermo?"

"Italy?"

"Yeah. Well, actually Sicily."

"I might." Her eyes bore into me. "What's this about?"

"It's not that large a city, right?"

"How should I know? House, get to the point. I don't have all day."

"Okay, okay. Don't get your thong in a—well I guess you couldn't, could you, being a thong?"

"House you're not here to talk about my preference in underwear."

"Right." I scratched my ear. "I need to find out all I can about a family in Palermo, specifically a man and his late wife."

"Are they sick?"

"No. At least I don't think he is. She's dead. That's why she's his late wife, get it?"

"House."

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. It was always so much fun to mess with her. "That's all. Whatever anyone in Palermo knows about them. I presume that, if you have any contacts there, it would be with the hospital administration and staff."

"Suppose I do." Her eyes narrowed. "What am I supposed to ask them? Specifically."

"Ask about any rumors that might be flying around the city about Carlo Molino. Oh, and ask what they might know about Julio Curci."

"Who's he?" She looked stymied.

"He's the kid that was kidnapped with Jess and Nina. Actually, I guess they were kidnapped with him."

"Is that what this is about?" She sounded incredulous. "You're still trying to find out why your girlfriend was kidnapped?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

Her eyes went round and round like a horse on a merry-go-round. "And if I get you this information, what do I get in return?"

"I'll keep Peter Giordano from messing with your hospital."

"You already promised to do that."

"But now I have the means." In fact, I had his promise, but she didn't have to know that.

She still hesitated.

"C'mon, Cuddy, what'll it cost you to make a phone call?"

"For one thing, I'll then owe Salvatore."

"Salvatore?"

"Dr. Salvatore Cavalieri. The head of the Ospedale Palermo, the main hospital in the city."

"And you know Salvatore how?" I couldn't help grin. So, she really did know someone who could help.

"We met at a conference in London about two years ago, maybe three."

"He was fascinated by your melons."

She rolled her eyes. "We had a lot in common. Our hospitals are about the same size, both teaching hospitals."

"And he was fascinated by your melons."

"House, Sal Cavalieri is a sixty-four-year-old grandfather of ten."

"So?"

She groaned. "Do you want me to call him or not?"

"Yeah, go ahead." I was still grinning when I let myself out of her office. You never knew where you were going to get the information you needed. In fact, I wondered who else I could tap for intel on Molino.

Before I could pursue that thought, the strains of "Brown Eyed Girl" issued from my cell phone. I smiled and answered. "Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"You know very well who this is. What's my song this week?" Jess's voice held a hint of laughter.

Did she really think I'd tell her? "How can I help you, ?"

"Nina and I convinced the printer that putting our logo on everything was possible."

"That's nice. So where do I come in?"

"There's just one teensy weensy problem, and I wondered if you had a suggestion."

"I'm listening."

Jess sighed. "Someone else has already copyrighted the name A Movable Feast. We need a new name, and thought you might have an idea for us."

I rolled my eyes, but thought about her request. The name they'd come up with was a good one. It was too bad. "Maybe a variation on A Moveable Feast." Then it came to me. "How about Meals on Wheels? Yes, I know that's already taken, too, but you could play around with it, make it your own."

"That's not a bad idea. Let me run it by Nina. I knew you'd come through for us. You're the greatest." She sounded much peppier than when she called.

"Glad I could help. Before you go, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"What is it?"

"Do you know where your father's staying in town?"

Silence, than a wary, "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm not sure. It's just a hunch, really."

"Okay, I won't ask. He usually stays at the Hilton when he's in Princeton. I guess that's where he is."

"Thanks, Jess. Good luck with the name thing."

I stopped to think about how I would approach Giordano before I called the Hilton. Certainly, there could be no connection between his family from northern Italy and Molino in Palermo. Had he said something or was it my brain lumping the two thorns in my side together? And if there was a connection, would he tell me? But I had to know, so I called the hotel.

I used my most authoritarian voice. "This is Dr. Gregory House. I'd like to speak with Peter Giordano. I believe he's staying there."

"I'll connect you to his room." The woman's voice was pleasant, but that didn't ease my trepidation.

"Hello?" Giordano sounded surprised to be getting a phone call, or maybe just one from me.

"Mr. Giordano, it's Greg House."

"Dr. House." The tone was cold, wary.

"I was wondering if you were free this afternoon. I have a proposition for you."

"What kind of proposition?" Back to surprised.

"I'd rather tell you in person. Say two thirty?"

He hesitated. "Make it three."

"Three it is." That would give him enough time to stew over what I was going to say. "What room are you in?"

"Six twelve. But it might be best if I meet you in the lobby or the bar."

"Make it the bar. I think you'll be interested in what I have to say."

He closed the connection without replying. Good. It meant he was curious. I smiled as I tossed my red and gray ball from hand to hand, knowing that this was going to work, but not what he'd tell me.

I looked up at a figure appearing in my doorway.

"I reached out to Sal, as you asked. I doubt what he told me will help you any. Molino is a respected businessman in Palermo. No health problems. His wife didn't have any before she came to the states and died in a car accident. He knew nothing about Curci, but there's a family by that name and the grandmother was recently in his hospital with a heart attack. She recovered."

I realized belatedly that I should have asked about Giancarlo too, but I still didn't know his last name.

"There is one curious thing. Molino made a huge donation to the hospital after his wife's death."

"What was so curious about that?" Maybe Cuddy's friend had come through with something useful after all.

"It was to a department specializing in fertility treatments, but no one in the Molino family used their facilities."

I smiled, another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

"Does that make sense to you?"

"It could explain a lot of what I've learned about Carlo and Francesca Molino."

"Well, you owe me now. Don't forget."

"I won't. As a matter of fact, I'm meeting with Giordano this afternoon." I didn't add that it was on another matter altogether.

"Good. Let me know what he says." She turned on her four inch heels and left.

With the new information, I had another avenue to explore. Had Francesca come to New Jersey to seek help with infertility? What name did she use, and did Carlo send her or even know about it? I listed all the unknowns in my head, right next to the remaining questions about the connections between Molino and the Locarnos, and about the attack on Ricky.

The leading fertility specialist in the area was Paul Jerome at Princeton General. He also had an extensive private practice. I didn't know the man well, but I'd met him a few times. Cuddy might have helped with getting to him, except I already owed her more than I wanted to. There was another way, of course.

Jess and I had never talked about kids. It wasn't something I had considered for our future. For one thing, I was self-aware enough to know I'd make a lousy father. But that wasn't the point here. I'd broach the subject with her later.

Meanwhile, there was one avenue I might finally have to pursue, and it was probably better if I did it before I talked to Senior at three. It wasn't easy to find his number, but eventually I made my call to the head of the Locarno family.