We may be getting to cause of Marisa's recent problems, but House is also about to stir a hornet's nest.

Hope you enjoy the chapter. Leave a comment if you wish. You know how much I love them.

Chapter 143.

I met Chase in the hall on my way back to my office. "Anything?"

He shot me a quizzical look. "She's allergic to something, but not anything I can pinpoint."

"Wilson's bringing a new oncology nurse to my office at two. I want you there."

"A new nurse?" His eyes narrowed even more.

"One of the ones who did the preliminary work for Wilson's treatment." I knew he didn't need more explanation than that. He'd probably realize that this was related to his speculations on the white board, but it couldn't be helped. At least I wasn't going to come out and say so.

He smiled slightly and nodded. "I'll be there." He walked off in another direction, and I continued on. The light was blinking on my office phone when I reached my desk. Usually I ignore it, because anyone I wanted to talk to would call my cell rather than my office, but something told me this time I should answer.

It was Rudy, the manager of the Black Keys. "Dr. House, he's here. Morgan. I don't think I can keep him here much longer, but if you come over now, you might still catch him." His voice was barely above a whisper. The time stamp on the message was five minutes earlier.

I called Rudy back. "Is he still there?"

"Yeah. I made a big deal of insisting I count the lemons, and then the limes. And then I offered him a drink on the house. But he's almost done."

"I'm on my way. Stall him another ten minutes." I didn't really think about it, about any physical danger, about the fact that Wilson would be in my office in less than an hour with Markham. This was my chance to see Morgan, and maybe confront him. Grabbing my cane, I rushed back out and down to the parking garage. I reached the piano bar eight minutes after I spoke to Rudy.

He stood at the bar, talking to a tall, well-built man in his late forties with sandy hair and a scar on the side of his face that I could see. Rudy smiled when he saw me and put down the glass he'd been rubbing with a bit of towel. "House. How ya doin'?"

"Okay."

Rudy filled the glass with two fingers of bourbon and pushed it across the counter to me. "Do you know Mike here?" He lifted his chin towards Morgan.

"I don't think I've had the pleasure." I sipped my drink.

Morgan eyed me with little interest. "Well, I've spent more than enough time here for one day. The boss'll wonder where I've gone off to if I don't finish my rounds and get back."

"Oh, off to kill someone?"

Morgan stopped and frowned at me.

"Or should I say someone else?" I glared at him.

"I'll kill you if you don't shut your mouth. What do you think you're accusing me of?"

"You paid for the first one, served your time. Or was it the first? Doesn't matter. And then the second - did your boss approach yu when you got out and tell you if you did it again, he'd make sure you didn't even go to trial?"

The color drained from his face, replaced by a rage. He seemed to pull himself together as he turned to the club manager. "Who is this guy?" The anger simmered just below the surface. Had I gone too far? But at least I'd gotten a reaction.

"Tell me, did you kill Lucy Locarno, too?"

He pushed away from the bar so suddenly that the stool behind him fell over. "That's it. I'm outta here." He turned and fled. That was better than him taking a swing at me, of course, but I wish he'd answered my questions.

"I'm afraid you've done it now," Rudy said, refilling my glass.

"Yes, I've served notice. Morgan knows now that he's not safe, that people are watching him."

"He also knows that you're one of those people, Doc. What are you going to do about it?"

I rubbed the side of my face, downed the rest of my drink and shook my head. "He doesn't know who I am, where I live or work. He doesn't even know what kind of car I drive. I think I'm safe. But I think he's going to do something, something rash, so I have to warn a few people he might go after. Thanks for the drink. See you later."

Rudy grabbed my wrist, not very tightly. "Wait, House. What's the latest on Marisa?"

"We think it might be some kind of allergy brought on by exposure to one of the nurses at the hospital."

"Is that common?" He looked skeptical.

"No, because the nurses at the hospital are warned to avoid scents and clothing that would set off any kind of reaction in a patient. But this guy is new. Who knows what he did at his last job, what they allowed. It could be something as simple as a cologne or aftershave, or something harder to pin down, but we're working on it. So I have to go. Thanks again for the call."

"Yeah, well, you made it sound important that you see Morgan."

"It was. See ya, Rudy."

I headed back to the hospital. By the time I reached my office, Chase was there along with Wilson and a tall, slim young man with bright red hair and a pug nose.

"House, where were you?" Wilson made a point of looking at his watch.

"Had to see a man about a..." Nothing smart-ass came to mind so I let it hang. "This the new nurse?"

"Yes. This is Don Markham."

Markham wasn't smiling. In fact, there was a tightness around his mouth and he stood stiffly next to Wilson. "I didn't do anything wrong. Honestly."

"What kind of aftershave do you use?" I studied his clean-shaven chin.

"Huh?" Markham looked at Wilson for an explanation.

"Answer him."

"Uh, whatever's cheapest at CVS. Usually their own brand, because we nurses don't make the big bucks like you guys." Somehow his attempt at sarcasm was undermined by his crossed arms and flickering eyelids.

"You did read the regs when you were hired, didn't you? Have to be sure your toiletries are hypoallergenic."

Markham nodded. "Yeah, sure. I mean, my skin is as sensitive as any of the patients."

"So that cheap stuff is hypoallergenic." I tapped my cane while I thought.

"Doctor, why are you asking me about this? What about the other nurses?"

"They've been here forever and would never expose a patient to anything that could cause a reaction."

"Yeah, well tell that to the short one, Yvette something." He darted a look at Wilson.

"Coleman," Wilson provided. "Why do you mention her?"

"Every time I've been near her, my eyes start to water. I even got a rash." Markham pushed up his sleeve to reveal a few red welts.

I looked at Wilson with narrowed eyes, and his eyebrows went up.

"I'll go find her." Wilson was shaking his head as he left, muttering something like 'she should know better'. It wasn't long before he was back with the short, slight woman. She was arguing with Wilson. My friend rolled his eyes. "Her boyfriend gave her some kind of expensive perfume for her birthday, and insisted she wear it."

"It was real fancy stuff," Yvette protested.

"That doesn't make it harmless." I fixed her with my sternest glare. "You know better, don't you? We've got a patient who's treatment was delayed because of her reaction. And Red, here, got a nasty rash just from being near you." I poked my cane at Markham.

"You did?" Yvette asked her fellow nurse.

Of course, he had to show her the rash.

She pooh-poohed it, but she also looked a little more abashed. "Are you sure it was my perfume that did all that?"

"There's only one way to find out. Are you wearing it now?" I asked.

Yvette hesitated. "No. My boyfriend and I broke up and I threw it out, along with everything else he gave me."

I grimaced. "Do you at least remember what it was called?"

She rubbed her mouth and shook her head. "Some kind of flower? Or maybe it was...no, I don't remember."

"Can you describe the bottle it came in?" Wilson prompted.

"Dr. Wilson, I'm sorry, I can't help you." There was regret in her eyes, but Wilson was right. We had to push her to remember. It was vital to finding out what set Marisa's symptoms off.

"Yvette, think. Was it green? Clear? Amber?" I tried to remember what some of Jess' fragrances looked like. "How did it smell? Flowery? Spicy?"

She held up her hands, palms out. "Please stop. I can't think while you're badgering me."

I turned from her and rolled my eyes.

"Yvette, we're only trying to jog your memory." Chase's voice was comforting. "I know it's painful. It brings back thoughts about your boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend. But if you can detach yourself from that part, or even as a way to get back at him, if you can tell us what perfume he gave you, it'll help someone else, a patient."

She looked from one of us to the other, her eyes flickering, her mouth half open. "I think it was a gold color, pale gold, and it smelled a little like cinnamon."

That struck a bell. Cinnamaldehyde was a known allergen and used as a scent in many products. "I guess we have our culprit."

"You know what perfume it was?" Wilson asked.

"No. But it doesn't matter. I'd bet what ingredient we're dealing with." I looked at the nurse and her narrowed eyes. "Guess you can stop beating on your tiny brain." I tapped her head with a finger. "Next time find a boyfriend with better taste in presents."

"Can I go now?" She seemed in a hurry to get away from me.

"Sure. You too," I told Markham.

They both scurried away. Chase turned to go, too. "I'll test her for a reaction to cinnamaldehyde."

"So that's it? Can I proceed with treating her vocal cord nodule now?"

I nodded. But I wasn't through with Marisa. It was time to talk to her about Mike Morgan.