I thought I'd be able to post this yesterday. Luckily, I have a little time today between the morning activities at the International Balloon Fiesta and the twinkle glows this evening.

Meanwhile, enjoy this chapter and if you feel inclined, leave me a few words.

I don't know how much writing time I'll have this week, or when I'll be able to post the next chapter. After Fiesta, we're off to Texas while our kitchen is being remodeled.

Chapter 132.

Chase was out, checking on the patient's piano player, and what he'd been giving her for her throat, and Thirteen was checking for damage to her vocal cords. I had to find something for the short one to do so I could be alone with my thoughts.

"When does the ex-soon-to-be-non-ex get here?" I still couldn't believe she was taking him back.

He grinned. "Rachel and my daughter will be here on the weekend. I'm all ready for them."

There went that approach. I puffed out my lips while I pondered. "Hadley could probably use your help."

"House, are you trying to get rid of me? Why don't you just say so?"

"Would you go if I did?" I love answering questions with one of my own.

He chuckled. "Maybe. I think I'll go finish my clinic hours for the next millennium."

And I was able to go back to thinking about Francesca Molino. With my entire original theory thrown out the window, it was just as well we never went ahead with setting up a competitive car shop. If her husband hadn't arranged her accident, it was probably no longer necessary to lure Molino to New Jersey. I did wonder whatever happened to Giancarlo. Since the first aborted attempt on Ricky, he hadn't tried again. Would Molino retaliate against his hit man the way he did against Julio?

Thinking of Julio reminded me that the time limit Molino gave him to return to Palermo was almost up. Would Molino send Giancarlo against the kid? Because I didn't think Julio had any intention of returning home, even if he had family back there.

While I was thinking about that, Cuddy appeared in my doorway. "I hear you have a patient."

"My team's on it."

"I'm surprised you're not browbeating her, or panting at her bedside."

"I don't browbeat my patients. Well, not all of them. And as for panting after her, I'll admit she's comely."

"Comely, huh?"

"You've seen her." It wasn't a question. Cuddy wouldn't be asking if she hadn't. "I've got my own looker at home."

"That never stopped you before."

I shifted in my seat. "You didn't come in here to discuss my taste in women."

"No, I didn't. I wanted you to be the first to know that your girlfriend's papa isn't the only one bidding for a seat on the hospital board."

"First? Since you know there's another bidder, that makes me the second."

"Semantics. We have another person interested and it would be a feather in our cap, so to speak, if he got the seat."

"And who is this favorable bidder?"

"Ever hear of Anthony Locarno?" She grinned.

I tried to suppress my own smile. "Sure. He's well-known, and well-connected." I waited a minute before adding, "I know his son, Marcello, and his grandchildren, Ricky and Tina." I didn't add that I put the idea in the head of the head of the Locarno family.

Her grin was replaced by a frown and a furrowed brow. "You do?"

"Ricky was the one who found Jess and Nina the property for their office." I didn't add that I'd just spoken with Marcello that morning. The less she knew, the better.

"Then you can talk to Ricky's grandfather, encourage him to push his bid over Giordano's."

"I never met Anthony, but I wouldn't mind talking to him as a representative the hospital. But didn't you tell Giordano he could have the seat if he didn't try to micromanage the hospital? Of course, I think I'd prefer Locarno."

Cuddy scowled. "What's in it for you?" Why did she always expect the worst from me?

"You did come to me with this. So, I'll do it." I put on my cheesiest smile. "You know I'd do anything for you."

That almost shut her up. "Just be on your best behavior. As you say, you'll be representing the hospital."

I knew she meant HER hospital. "So, do you have a contact number?"

She handed me a sheet of paper. "Call his secretary and set up a meeting. Tell him who you are and that your with PPTH."

I nodded. "Will do. Anything else, boss?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "Let me know when you'll be seeing him."

"I'll keep you informed." I watched her leave with a big smile on my face, then punched in the number on the paper. It was different from the one I used before to talk to Anthony Locarno.

A male voice answered. "This is Anthony Locarno's office. Whom am I speaking to?" The slight accent was unmistakable. I would bet Locarno's receptionist, or whatever he was, came from Italy.

"This is Dr. Gregory House, at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. We understand Mr. Locarno is interested in joining our board of governors, and I'd be delighted to talk to him about it. When would be a good time for me to meet with him?"

"Ah, yes. Let me consult his schedule." There was silence for a brief time, then that accented voice was back. "Mr. Locarno can see you tomorrow at ten. Please be on time, as he has another appointment at eleven."

"Of course. Tomorrow at ten. I'll be there." I jotted down the appointment, and sent an email message to Cuddy, 'Mission Accomplished. Tomorrow at ten.'

Chase returned a few minutes later, out of breath but smiling.

"So?"

"The piano player gave her massive doses of ginsing, St. John's wort, and echinacea."

"All of them?" It was what I feared.

He nodded. "It's no wonder her body's been going haywire. But it's easily reversed by stopping all of thoseherbals."

"Did you inform the idiot what he'd done?"

"He thought he was doing the right thing." He shook his head. "I wonder how many other people out there don't realize how these things interact with each other and with prescription medications." He smiled. "Guess we can chalk this up as another case solved."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't do that until we see what happens once those are out of her system. He was giving them to her because of a throat problem."

"Have you done a throat scan yet?" he asked.

"Thirteen's on it." But I was curious about something else. "How long has she been at the piano bar?"

"A year and a half. The piano player said he's been there forever, and she was the best singer they've had in all that time. And then when she started having problems with her voice, about six months ago, he gave her the herbals."

"Do we know her current blood levels of metabolites from the herbal remedies?"

"No, we never looked for them, but that will give us a measure of whether they're out of her system. I'll go order them now." Chase started for the door, then turned to ask, "Unless there's something else I should do?"

"No. Chase, what will you do if she continues to come on to you."

"What?" His eyes narrowed.

"You have to have noticed."

"House, she's our patient."

"Not much longer."

"And then I'll probably never see her again. Besides, Ellie and I are together. I'm not interested in her except as our current case."

"Better let her know that."

He nodded, a frown appearing on his face. "I will." He headed out to do the blood tests.

After a few minutes, I stood and strolled over to the office next door. I even knocked before I opened it without waiting for an answer. Wilson was hunched over some papers, but looked up as I entered.

"House."

"That's my name. And in case you've forgotten, yours is Wilson."

He sneered. "What did you want?"

"Do I have to want something? Can't I just come over to visit my best bud?"

"It's not lunchtime, your patient doesn't have cancer, and I'm busy." He pointedly looked down at his papers.

"What if she does? Have cancer, I mean."

"Does she?" He looked back at me.

I wiggled my mouth. "I don't know yet. Thirteen's checking her throat, and everything therein. Something is affecting her voice, which isn't great for anyone, but especially not for someone who sings for a living."

"Why do you always have to make everything so complicated? Why didn't you just come out and say she's a singer and having problems with her vocal cords?"

"It's more fun this way. So, whaddya say?"

"What do I say about what? Are you asking for a consult? Is that what this is about?"

"My, you're full of questions today."

Wilson sighed deeply and loudly. "Okay. Let's go." He stood and headed for the door.

I grinned as I followed him to Marisa's room. Thirteen sat at the side of her bed. I'd have to watch them together. Warning Chase off was just the start. Any or all of my staff might be interested in this looker.

"Good afternoon, ladies. Sorry to break in on your tete a tete. Marisa, this is Dr. Wilson." I pointed to my friend, and Marisa sat up with a gleam in her eyes. Not only my staff, then. "He wants to take a look at your throat." I emphasized the last word.

Thirteen looked from Wilson to me with a frown and narrowed eyes. Hadn't it occurred to her we might be dealing with the big C here?

While Wilson shone a light into the patient's mouth, I talked to Thirteen in a low voice. "I assume you didn't find anything."

"How'd you know?"

She should know I have my ways. This time I decided to enlighten her. "If you had, you wouldn't be so surprised that I brought Wilson in for a consult."

"I don't know what he can see with the naked eye that I couldn't in a scan." Her eyes never left the oncologist and the patient.

"He has experience on his side. Never underestimate the advantage that gives a doctor."

She nodded, but looked worried. "Nothing at all looked unusual in my test. No indication of nodules or even inflammation." She bit her lip. "I hope Wilson doesn't find anything either."

My friend moved back from the patient. "There's nothing obvious, but I'd like to do some additional tests on her larynx and pharynx as well as her esophagus." He reached for her chart. "Does she smoke? Have acid reflux?"

Thirteen shook her head as he examined the earlier results and patient history.

"It could be nodules, polyps or benign cysts from overuse of the vocal cords." He handed back the file. "I'd like to do more tests, possibly do a biopsy, but I think we can hold off on that." Wilson turned to me. "You're right. This is an interesting case."

"Doctor Wilson, do you think it's cancer?" Marisa's voice was a rasp. Her lips trembled.

"I can't give you a definitive answer yet, but I'd say the odds are it isn't."

She relaxed against her pillows and swallowed. "Thank you."

Under my breath I mumbled, "Why did they always thank him?"

"We'll let you rest for a bit, but once Dr. Wilson's tests are set up, we'll be back."

"One more question. If it's not cancer but one of those other things you mentioned, can it be cured?" Marisa still looked worried.