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Chapter 156.

Petey didn't have anything further to say about his new job or what was happening at Bernini Fruit. "I never saw the big boss, only the office manager."

"Skinny guy, about your age?" I asked.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"One of my little secrets." I smiled to myself. It was such fun playing with Jess' brother. "Call me again if you learn anymore."

"Sure. Will you be at the opening next Saturday?"

"The first catering party?" I grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Hope you can juggle the two jobs for a while."

"Oh, easy-peasy. I'll see you then."

I was pleasantly surprised he'd come through with as much as he had. Everything we were learning now was consistent, which usually meant it was true. I glanced at the list I'd made myself so I didn't forget to follow-up on any of my spies. Before I went further, though, I had a question for Wilson. I left my office going only as far as his door.

There was no answer to my knock. That didn't stop me. I turned the knob, but the door was locked. No problem. The short walk back through my office took me to the balcony we shared. He might secure the hall door to his office, but Wilson rarely bothered with the other one. A jaunt over and I was on his side of the low wall. The door from there was open and I slipped into his office. And stopped dead.

Wilson was stretched out on the couch that I viewed as my own private napping spot. His snoring hadn't improved. Open-mouthed and loud as ever. That Nina must wear him out.

Should I make a loud noise and wake him, or take the opportunity to rifle through his desk knowing he might open his eyes at any moment?

Wilson saved me the effort of making that decision. He woke with a start. "House, what the hell are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Besides poking your nose where it doesn't belong..." He rubbed his eyes, then narrowed them. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Time for you to tell me when you're releasing our patient."

He gave me his stare of disdain. "You mean MY patient, Marisa."

"Did WE have another patient in common?"

The glare was still there, but he answered, "Probably next Monday. I want her vocal cords to heal some more before she goes out there and strains them again."

"That's all I needed." I turned to leave.

"House, that can't be all."

"Really, it was. You can go back to sleep now."

He glanced at his watch and then jumped up. "Yikes! I have a consult in five minutes."

"I'll leave you to it." I looked at the door to the balcony, considered, then strode to the hallway door and left.

My team were no longer in the conference room. I entered my office and pulled out my phone to call Jess.

Without preamble I asked her, "What's the best day next week for you to cater the party for Marisa?"

"Hello to you, too." She laughed. "So she's being let loose?"

"Wilson says probably Monday. Bev says spaghetti."

The merriment was gone from her voice. "Oh! I forgot to ask her about that."

"You were more concerned with your father." I shrugged although she couldn't see me.

"Yeah, I was. So Bev was there this morning?"

"Bringing her sister an e-reader. So was Petey."

"My brother brought Marisa an e-reader?"

"No, no. He was here this morning with the same story he told Rudy. It confirmed what I saw."

"I'm having a harder time than usual following what your saying this morning."

"Sorry." I wasn't really, but thought I should say so. I gave her a sequential rundown of my activities since I saw her last, leaving out unimportant things.

"Okay, now I understand. So, my brother's driving for the fruit company, there's a truck missing, the one Morgan drove into the Black Keys, my father's having a staff meeting and Bev will report on that, Marisa will be released Monday, and she used to like spaghetti with marinara sauce."

"You got it."

"I suspect you're going to the auto repair places today to look for the truck."

"Why do you suspect that?"

"Because I know your M.O." She paused. "Want some company?"

I chuckled. "You just want in on the fun."

"Oh, I had my own fun already today."

I wondered what she meant. She must have noticed.

"Relax. I meant I had a good talk with Bev. I know she told you some of it, but we also talked about our fathers. When I told her how lucky she was to have Bertoli as hers, she pointed out she hadn't grown up with him, but her adoptive father was a good guy, too."

"Windermaker."

"Right. That his name."

"Yes. Marisa's dad. Even though he died a few years ago, Bertoli was always a presence in Bev's life, arranging her introduction to Marcello."

"Yes, she said something about that. Greg, I know I was suspicious of her at first, but I like her. I understand now why you took to her."

My team was approaching, so I cut it short. "I'm going to have to go. I'll call when I'm ready to head to the auto shops."

"Alright. I wanted to go over some last minute things with Nina for the party on Saturday anyway. Talk to you later."

Chase entered first, but Thirteen held the file.

"Whadda we got?" I held out a hand for it.

She relinquished a copy. "Ninety-year-old male with the constitution of a fifty year old suddenly collapsed while he was mowing the lawn."

I rolled my eyes. "What's a ninety year old doing mowing his own lawn?"

"It wasn't his own grass." Taub smirked. "He runs a service, and has been doing his neighbor's for years without any problem. And before you ask, it was a riding mower."

"Anyone check his heart?"

"No sign of a heart attack, a stroke, or any kind of blockage." Chase scratched an ear. "As Hadley said, constitution of an ox."

"She said fifty year old to spite me, but we'll let that slide." I opened the file and scanned the top page. They'd covered all the basics. "Check the mower and the grass he was mowing."

They stood there, mouths agape. Chase closed his first only to reopen it and ask, "What?"

"You heard me. Check the mower engine. Maybe it was emitting too much carbon monoxide. And the grass. Was it recently fertilized or treated?"

Taub finally caught on. "So you think it was a reaction to something he breathed in."

"Duh." I stuck my tongue out at them. "What are you standing around looking like idiots for?"

They scurried off, giving me a chance to read the file in peace. After I'd finished, I closed it on my desk, an elusive idea trying to congeal. Disparate information about the patient, about the Locarnos and Molino, and about the two sisters. Bev and Marisa, not Jess and Nina, although maybe I should throw them into the mix. What did a riding lawnmower have to do with anything?

But it had triggered something, something someone said when Julio and the girls were kidnapped. So much had happened since. I snapped my fingers. Bleach. Julio and the girls got a good whiff of the stuff. And then there were their gags. Ethylene glycol-soaked rags, if my memory serves. The patient may not have been exposed to those chemicals, but then, maybe he was. I pressed my forefinger down on my upper lip and hooked my thumb under my chin.

I know. It seemed I related everything in my life lately to whatever was going on between Molino and the Locarnos. Then again, a lot was. Who would have thought that Marisa was connected, however tenuously? It was as if my involvement with the Giordanos was bashert, preordained. I'd had a love-hate relation with destiny all my life. I didn't believe in it, because it smacked of something science couldn't explain, and yet I did believe I was fated to be a doctor.

Alright, enough philosophizing, I told myself as I stood suddenly. Time for action. The team was doing their magic with the new patient. I'd wait for their results before I threw more at them based on my musings. Meanwhile, I had a date with my girl and a detailing shop. As I made my way to my car, I called Jess.

"Ready to roll?" she asked.

"I'll be there to pick you up in ten." I didn't have to tell her anything else.

She was waiting outside when I pulled up in front of our place. "Any more news?" she asked.

"We have a patient."

"So why are you here and not at the hospital?"

"They don't need me for a while."

"So we're looking for the delivery truck that smashed Rudy's window?"

"Yes. It's probably already repaired, but it'll be interesting to find out who brought it in, and what they say happened to it."

"Molino owns the shop. There's no reason for Morgan or anyone else to lie about how it was damaged."

"I don't think Molino would take kindly to one of his drivers using one of his trucks as a battering ram."

"No, just as a murder weapon."

"Good point. Although technically, Morgan used his own pickup for that, every time."

The nearer of the shops wasthe one on Old Trenton Road where Jess, Nina and Juliohad been held. We found it busier than we'd ever seen it. I couldn't find a parking spot in front of the office, but squeezed my car into a spot marked 'Loading Zone', and put up my handicapped placard on the dash.

The office was crowded. All of the salesmen were busy with customers. That gave us an opportunity to study the photos on the wall again. Now that I'd seen more of the players in this little farce, there were more faces to look for.

Besides the few shots with Francesca in them, one with Julio, and two with Ricky Locarno, I saw one with Giancarlo's ugly mug. No one else.

As one of the salesmen finished with a customer, Jess caught his eye. "How can I help you?" His grin couldn't be broader.

"My friend was in a week or two ago and got an estimate, but we don't see the salesman he talked to. Can you help us?" She didn't quite bat her eyelids.

I joined them. "The estimate was more than I was willing to spend, but every other place I've tried was even higher."

"Well, let's see if we can find a copy of your estimate." The salesman's eyes hadn't left Jess. I didn't think it was because he'd seen her before. The turnover of staff at this place was high.

"Could we get a tour of your facility?" Jess purred at him.

He would probably have rolled over and died for her. "Of course. And what's your name, pretty lady?"

"I'm Jessica. What's yours?"

I rolled my eyes. His nametag said Bill.

"I'm William, Jessica."

I was almost forgotten as he went to a terminal to find the estimate.

"What name should I look for?"

"House," Jess said. "Or maybe it's under Giordano."

He searched, then looked up at her. "Peter Giordano?"