House continues to pursue all of the mysteries, medical and otherwise. This chapter took the total number of words over 201,000, but it won't end until he does.

Hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave a comment if you wish.

Chapter 138.

Taub was waiting for me when I reached my office.

"So? What did she say?" I prodded.

His head went back and forth a few times. "She was too busy talking about the guy who you introduced her to. Ricky, right?"

"Yes. He's a real estate guy, found Jess and Nina the place for their business."

"Oh, yeah? I might have to talk to him at some point."

"Thinking of buying some property?" I didn't really care, and we were getting off the subject. "What else did she say? What happened when her boss visited?"

"He wanted to know when she'd be able to come back to work. She had to tell him she didn't know and he wasn't too happy about it, but he didn't fire her, just told her he expected she'd be back soon."

"Guess I'm going to have to pay him another visit." I was already wondering if I should take Jess to the piano bar after dinner that night. It was a classy enough place. She might like it. "Did she mention whether he was coughing or sneezing or anything?"

"No. But he brought her some flowers and a box of candy."

I smiled. Two possible sources of whatever infection or reaction she might have. "What else did you learn?"

"Nothing." There he went with the head shaking thing again. "So, can you give me a contact number for Ricky?"

"You really are interested in buying a house." I shouldn't be that surprised. "For your wife and the kid, huh?"

"I'll have to see how it goes the first few days with them in my apartment, but it would go a long way to make sure they stay if we could moveinto a bigger place."

I fished around in my drawer and came up with one of Ricky's cards. "Here you go. He mostly deals with commercial property, but I bet he'd help you out."

He seemed shocked that I'd do that much for him. "Thanks, House." He turned and walked away.

But I wasn't doing it for him, of course. Not really.

Less than five minutes after he left, my phone rang. I smile. "Hi, Jess."

"Hi yourself. So, how did it go with Marcello and Ricky?"

"Exactly the way I predicted," I bragged.

"Well, don't go getting a swelled head over that." There was laughter in her voice.

"But there's been a new development."

"What?" The laughter was gone.

"We're back to being Marisa's doctors. There's something more than the nodules that Wilson found."

"But how does that affect any relationship between her and Ricky?"

"Well, we'll just have to find out what's wrong with her so she can get better. And you can help."

"Me?" She sounded puzzled.

"Well, the two of us together. We're going to the club where she sings, or used to sing, or maybe will sing in the future."

"Tonight, I presume."

"The sooner the better."

"And how will that help? Or do I need to know?"

"Well, you don't need to, but I'll tell you anyway, just cause you're so cute. Her boss visited her yesterday in the late afternoon. Afterward her vitals changed. We have to find out why. It could be the flowers he brought her or the box of candy, but I'd like to ask him about it. She was too busy extolling Ricky's virtues to tell Taub much."

"Okay. So we're going to the club tonight. We'll have dinner first, right?"

I knew she wouldn't object. "Sure."

"I'll probably have to change clothes. Meet you at home?"

"I'll be there by five thirty, maybe earlier if I can sneak out."

Jess laughed. "Nina and I are heading to the restaurant supply store again. She'll drop me off."

I hoped the trip to the piano bar wouldn't be a waste, but I had a few questions for Marisa's boss.

Taub returned to confirm, "It's not the flowers or the candy."

"Let's go on the assumption it's an infection of some kind. Try a broad spectrum antibiotic and see whether she responds." Once he left, there wasn't much I could do, but on a hunch, I did a little research. Why would Marisa be so susceptible to any kind of infection? Had the start of Wilson's treatment affected her immune system? Before I let my fingers do the walking on my keyboard, I went to talk to my friend.

For once, Wilson wasn't busy. No one was with him in his office. Yes, he was going through a stack of files, but I had no compunction about interrupting that. "What did you give Marisa?"

His eyes narrowed. Using a trick he learned from me he countered, "Why are you asking?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering if your treatment lowered her ability to fight infections."

He sat back in his chair and shook his head. "Perhaps if we'd started some kind of radiation or chemotherapy it might have. But she probably won't need either of those things."

"So, what did you do?"

"As you know, most vocal cord nodules require only rest of the voice and retraining by a vocal therapist. In Marisa's case, I thought surgery might be required. But since that could affect her singing ability, before I went ahead, I was trying an inhaled steroid spray. That's all I did."

I grimaced. No help there with finding out what might have affected her white cell count. It still seemed that an infection was the probable cause.It was unlikely that she had leukemia or some other disease, since the symptom hadn't shown up before. Symptoms. We couldn't dismiss the decrease in potassium. We weren't giving her diuretics, her diet here was controlled and balanced, and she hadn't had any recent bouts of diarrhea or vomiting. I made a note to myself to check her sodium and magnesium levels.

Back to the high WBC. Depending on her response to the antibiotic, we would decide what other tests she'd need.

At four forty-five, I hadn't heard any more from my team. I left a note for them to call. For once, I'd keep my phone turned on. I packed up my bag and quit my office for the day.

Jess was waiting for me at the condo, full of her own news. "We booked three more parties, and the restaurant supply store had the platters we'd been looking for."

'That's nice' wouldn't have been the best response, so I forced a bit more enthusiasm. "Sounds like things are going well."

"Yes." She beamed at me. "Oh, Greg, sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it. But you've got other things on your mind, don't you?"

"Marisa. She seems to have picked up some kind of infection, but we don't know how."

"Yes, you said that was why we're going to this club tonight. I hope that will get you some answers or at least clues." She took my bag from me and put it on the floor near the door, then slid her arms around my neck. "You'll figure this out."

"I'm glad you're so certain."

"You've never failed since I've known you."

"Oh, but I have failed in the past." I hated to be reminded of the patients I couldn't save, hadn't diagnosed until after it was too late.

She put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's okay. You're right, though. I've solved every case I've had since we met. Of course, that was only a few months ago..."

"Your team is handling the tests on Marisa, right? And we're off to find some other clues tonight, so all bases are covered."

"A sports metaphor. I love it."

"Huh?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Yeah, we're doing everything we can to determine what's wrong with her."

"So, where are we going for dinner before we head to the bar?" She pulled away, but still held my hands.

"There are a couple of restaurants near The Black Keys." I'd checked before I left my office. "Italian or Indian?"

"Hmmm. I think Indian for a change. I could certainly do with a bowl of curry."

I grinned. "A girl after my own heart."

"I hope so." She winked at me. "I'm going to change into something a little more evening-appropriate."

The black slacks and pale gray blouse she was wearing would have done, but I guess she'd been in the outfit all day. Probably wanted a skirt or dress instead. For me, changing my T-shirt and adding a button-down shirt would be enough.

When Jess emerged, I approved the change. She wore a short red skirt and a silky white blouse with three-inch heels. Her dark hair was swept off her face with part of it up and the rest dribbling down to her shoulders.

A T-shirt wouldn't cut it. I put on a light blue shirt instead and a tweed jacket.

The Indian place was small but busy. I hoped that meant the food would be good. Our curry came in small pots with lids, and our waiter dished the first spoonfuls onto our plates for us. The pungent smell was matched by the taste, hot enough to meet my standards but not so hot that the flavors of the chicken, vegetables and spices were masked. I finished all of mine and the small amount Jess left of hers. We didn't stay for dessert, since we expected there'd be some food at the club, but we added the place to our growing list of restaurants we'd return to.

"I'd consider added this to our suppliers," Jess said as she got into the car. "But not until after we're in business for a few months."

"Giving your clients too many options might be detrimental," I guessed.

"Exactly."

The Black Keys was less than half a mile away. The small parking lot was almost full, but there was a handicapped spot not far from the door, so I took it and put my placard in the window.

It was brighter inside than I expected. I remembered Marisa's comment about the customers being in the dark, although that may have been from the perspective of the stage. A young woman, not quite as pretty as Marisa, sat on the grand piano, singing her heart out. Unfortunately for her, her upper range was a bit screechy, but she gave it her best.

The man who greeted us, medium height and dark hair and eyes, saw the way we studied her. "Our usual singer is in the hospital, but we expect her back soon."

I wouldn't bet on it.