Nick maneuvered his Tahoe into the parking lot across from Luna's Diner. He hated drive-by shootings. They tended to be quick cases – which wasn't what bothered him. It was that they were usually given to those lower on the totem pole for that night. Which was him obviously. He was already frustrated with the case and he hadn't even started gathering evidence. Drive-bys usually went one of two ways. You either caught the shooter because they were two stupid and threw their gun away nearby or you never caught them because you never found a gun or a witness. Often people were too frightened to point fingers.
Captain Jim Brass was waiting while uniforms were either questioning the dozen or so witnesses, searching for a gun or keeping the crowds away. He waited for Nick to reach him then motioned him to follow. "Three vics. Two dead, one critical. Witnesses aren't saying much. All we've got is one car with two shooters."
"Which doesn't add up to much." Nick finished as he bent down to examine the first body.
"No. So what'd you do to piss Gris off?" Brass asked. Nick looked up at him, clearly irritated but chose to say nothing.
Brass glanced around and continued. "Looks like we've got an easy one. Unless the gun shows up somewhere in the next few blocks this is all going to be a dead end."
"I know," came Nick's short reply.
At the labs …"So what can you tell me about our guy?" Grissom asked of Doc Robbins.
Robbins was looking down at the body when he answered, "well, for starters he wasn't poisoned and he didn't suffer a heart attack."
Catherine sighed. "Then what killed him?"
"He threw a clot."
"Threw a clot?"
Robbins looked up at Catherine. "Yes. You see, when someone has surgery they run a high risk of developing blood clots in their extremities – mainly the legs – because they're laid up in bed. So the nurses try to get them moving to encourage circulation and prevent clots. Because if they don't, then when a clot develops and the patient stands it sends it to the brain and they stroke out."
"So he was killed by a blood clot?" Catherine asked wryly.
"Basically. Probably easing off the leg a little too much since he'd gotten home from the hospital and …" Robbins shrugged.
Grissom sighed. "Thanks Al."
"Sure thing."
Catherine just gave Grissom an ironic smile and followed him out the door.
Catherine was refilling on coffee when Warrick entered the break room. "I hear your guy died from a clot?"
"Yeah, fascinating stuff. 'Cept I don't feel like repeating it." She took a sip of coffee savoring the comfort of it for a moment.
"Where's Nick?"
"Grissom sent him on a crap job."
"Convenience store?"
"Nope. Drive-by."
Warrick clicked his tongue in pity and shook his head. "Nick's the lackey tonight I guess."
"Well, you know someone's gotta do it. It'll be your turn one of these nights."
"His turn for what?" Sara asked as she walked in.
"Nick's on a drive-by."
"I didn't think Grissom was mad at him."
Catherine rolled her eyes. "He's not. It's just Nick's turn to play toady."
"I guess Nick's got the boring one tonight," Sara said with pity.
O'Riley brought Jimmy Baker in for questioning and, Warrick hoped, a blood sample. He was sitting across from their suspect in the interrogation room with O'Riley. Sara was watching on the other side of the mirror.
"We just wanted you to recount your argument with Brian," O'Riley explained.
"Well, I told him to stop coming on to me. That I didn't swing that way. He accused me of being a closet gay. I told him that was a fuckin' lie. I'm straight. Totally. Anyway, I told him to get his 'Gaydar' fixed and we yelled a couple things back and forth and I left."
"You didn't come to blows?"
"No."
"Well, we found some blood there that wasn't his," Warrick said. "We were wondering if you'd be willing to give us a blood sample to rule you out as a suspect."
Jimmy frowned. "I don't really like needles."
"It won't hurt that much. Or we could just get a warrant," O'Riley insisted.
Jimmy looked back and forth between Warrick and O'Riley. He sighed. "Can my lawyer be present?"
The Corner of Ballard and Moss …Nick was getting irritated. There were at least fifteen uniforms tromping around the crime scene. Ten of who were attempting to help him find bullets and hopefully a discarded gun.
He stood up straight and wiped the back of his wrist across his forehead. This was getting nowhere. Silently he lamented getting the annoying case tonight.
*****
AN: Okay, first of all, the whole thing about blood clots – totally true. I'm a nursing assistant so I know these things. Well, except I did stretch it a little (okay – a lot) to fit the story. The fact that Mark Little had been up and around and was recovering from surgery means it would be highly unlikely that he would have thrown a clot. But I wanted this case to be confusing at first but then have it clear up easily. And Warrick and Sara's case will be solved next chapter.
And keep up the reviews, please. They make me happy. ;)
