Here's another chapter. Thanks for reading and leaving great comments.

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Chapter 163.

Bertoli and I exchanged a few more words, but nothing very helpful. Julio didn't have anything more to offer either. So, I returned to Jess, Edgar and Cheryl.

Jess was describing the menu for the party the next night.

"I never ate French food," Cheryl said. "Isn't it all sauces and stuff?"

Edgar pointed to the pot she'd been dipping her chicken in. "What do you call that, then?"

"Dip?"

Jess covered her snicker with her hand.

"Oh, oh, I know!" Cheryl's eyes went wide. "It's called fondue!"

Edgar patted her shoulder. "Very good. My point, though, was that the sauces they use in French food and other dishes aren't that different from the dips here."

Cheryl smiled. "Well, good. Then I guess I'll like it." Her smile disappeared as suddenly as it showed up. "We're going, aren't we, Edgar?"

"If Dr. House wants us there." Edgar looked to me for confirmation.

"Yes, of course. Never can have enough muscle around."

Cheryl's smile returned. "I've never been to a Sweet Sixteen. Didn't have one myself."

"Neither did I," Jess told her.

"Don't look at me." I twisted my mouth. "It's not a guy thing."

Our waiter showed up at that point to take away our dinner plates. "Did anyone save room for dessert?"

"Need you ask?" I smirked at him.

He handed out menus and left.

"Ooh! This one looks yummy!" Cheryl said in that squeaky voice she tended to use when she was excited about something.

Edgar looked at the line she pointed at. "Maybe we should share it."

Jess nodded. "The desserts here are ginormous. Greg can finish any of them, but I tend to stick to the smaller ones like the original chocolate fondue. It has milk chocolate and peanut butter fondue with fruit, pound cake and brownies."

"And you finish all of that yourself?" Cheryl turned her wide eyes toward Jess.

She chuckled. "I have help."

We ordered our desserts and sat back to wait for them.

"What made you decide on medicine, Doc?" Edgar asked after a minute or two of silence.

"Still trying to decide what you'll do when you grow up?" I looked him up and down. "I guess you've finished growing."

"Well, I know it won't be a doctor, but I sometimes wonder how people pick one profession over another."

"I can answer that," Jess said. "I studied accounting in school, but after a while I realized I wanted a job working with people and with food. Everyone gravitates toward something that makes them feel fulfilled in some way."

Edgar nodded. "Guess I'll have to think about what will do that for me. I enjoyed being in the ring, but not so much the injuries I inflicted on others. Dr. House suggested I work in a gym. I guess it would have to be the kind that athletes use."

"But is that what you're passionate about? What did you study in school?" she asked.

"I have a degree in History." His laugh was mirthless. "Fat lot of good that did for me."

Jess nodded. "But besides the stuff you learned, the process of learning must have given you some skills. And there had to be things you liked to do besides studying."

Edgar chuckled. "Does drinking count?" A man after my own heart. He shrugged. "Something will pop up. Meanwhile, I'm getting by with gigs like this one."

I could tell by Jess' look she was going to take him on as a challenge. Better her than me. I was no career counselor.

We finished our desserts. I paid the bill since there was no way to get Edgar to pay if I didn't want to alienate him. I needed him on my side.

As we left the restaurant, we said good-bye to Tina at the reception desk.

"Do you need me to go home with you?" Edgar asked.

I hadn't thought about that, but I was paying him to protect us. "Yes. We have a guest room."

"If Cheryl wants to come, too, we won't mind," Jess added.

I would mind, but I kept my trap shut.

"I better get back to my place." Cheryl stood on tiptoes and kissed Edgar. "Call me tomorrow."

"Sure," he said.

She got into her car and drove away, and the three of us returned to the condo. It was still early, so we took seats in the living room.

"How long have you and Cheryl been together?" Jess asked Edgar.

"About six months." There wasn't much enthusiasm in his voice. His girlfriend was something else he wasn't passionate about. "A friend introduced us. How 'bout the two of you?"

"Greg was looking for someone else when we met," Jess replied.

I had to clarify that. "A former patient. A toddler."

"We've also been together for about six months," Jess went on.

Had it been that long? I hadn't kept track. And so much had happened since I met her.

She chuckled. "I think he was more attracted to my sister when we met."

"But not for long." Now, why did I say that? I sat back with my arm around Jess, listening to them chat. Some of the things they'd been talking about had me thinking. Jess had changed my life, but I was still me. Still a doctor. Still solving puzzles, both medical and not. That would never change, it seemed. The words Jess said about finding something you were passionate about, something that makes you feel fulfilled resounded in my head. I guess I had.

"Well, it's getting late." Jess rose, leaving my side. "Let me show you to your room," she told Edgar.

He'd brought a gym bag, most likely filled with clothing and other necessities. Grabbing it, he followed Jess to the guest room.

I headed to our bedroom and she soon joined me.

"I like him," she said.

I frowned.

Jess smirked. "Like, not love. He's a nice guy and smart, too." She walked closer and put her arms around my neck. "Of course, he's not you." Her lips found mine.

I relaxed a little. Why had it bothered me that she found him at all attractive? But she was here, with me, not with him.

We made love slowly and passionately and fell asleep in each others arms. In the morning, a clattering sound from the kitchen woke us. We showered and dressed quickly and joined Edgar in the kitchen just as he was stacking pancakes on plates and placing them on our small kitchen table.

"He cooks, too." Jess grinned as she sat down and pulled a plate closer to her.

I pouted. "I can cook."

"Didn't say you couldn't." She patted my hand. "I've learned all about your myriad of talents, but we're both just finding out all our bodyguard can do." The doorbell rang and she left to answer it, returning with Thirteen in tow.

I grinned. "Your bodyguard's here, so Edgar is mine now."

Jess laughed, but my duckling looked mystified.

"Would you like some?" Edgar asked the new arrival, holding up a plate of pancakes.

"That does look and smell wonderful. Sure."

I rolled my eyes. But the food in front of me was delicious. I wouldn't mind having Edgar cook us breakfast every day.

"So, how are we doing things today?" Jess wiped some syrup off her mouth.

"When do you have to pick up the food for tonight?" I asked her.

"Not until four-ish. And I don't have to pick it up. That's Petey's job."

"If he's finished with whatever Bernini has planned for his truck drivers today."

"Don't you think they'll be done by then?" Jess asked. "Where are they going?"

"I haven't a clue."

Edgar chimed in with "Maybe you'll know more after...what was her name?"

Jess and I answered simultaneously. "Bev."

"She might learn something that will give you a clue what's happening."

"What does Bev have to do with this?" Thirteen asked.

So Jess brought her up to speed. "I guess we have to wait for her call. There's not much else we can do."

"Anyone for some stud poker?" Thirteen asked. "I assume you have cards."

Edgar cleaned up with both women helping him and then we spent the next couple of hours playing poker. Both Edgar and Thirteen were good players, but not up to my standard. At eleven-thirty, the phone rang. Although we'd been waiting for a call from Bev or Petey, eveeryone started at the sound.

It should have been my phone but it was Jess'. She answered. "Are you sure?" she asked. "That doesn't sound right." She listened for a minute or two, then spoke again. "Okay, hold tight. We'll be right there." When she turned to me, she was ashen. "That was Petey."

"Well?" I prompted when she hesitated to go on.

"The shipment they had to pick up and deliver this morning were several crates of rifles."

"Rifles?" That was the last thing I expected. "What are they preparing for? And how did he know what was in the crates?"

"He was able to see inside one of them. Plus they were the right size, weight and shape for guns."

"Where did they get them?"

"At the docks in Hoboken. And they took them to a warehouse, just outside Trenton. After they drove the trucks back to the Bernini offices, they were all told to go home."

"That doesn't sound good," Edgar said. "Petey, that's your brother?"

Jess nodded.

I dropped the cards in my hand and put it on her arm. She was shaking. "You told him we'd meet him somewhere." I squeezed.

She nodded again. "At our offices. He didn't know where to go or who to tell about this besides you and me."

I scraped my chair back. "What are we waiting for?"

We took two cars, just as a precaution. I rode with Edgar in mine while Thirteen took Jess. As we parked, I saw Petey's car.

He was in the back room, pacing, but stopped when he saw us. "House, what do we do now?"

I'd given it some thought on the way over. "We do nothing. We act as if we know nothing. Meanwhile, we build our defenses, and that includes the Locarnos, Bertoli, hell, even Uncle Johnny. Anyone they might come after has to be told what you saw."

He clutched his head with both hands. "I can't even believe what they're doing. Why would they need guns? Long-range rifles?" He shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. This is not a gang war or something."

"Maybe to Molino it is."