Author's note: no idea if Las Vegas Happy Cakes really exists! ;)
After what seemed like hours, the ambulance finally arrived. Greg hadn't left Liz' side, while Morgan had called Russell and Brass to tell them what had happened. Brass was the first to arrive.
"What happened?" he asked Greg, who stepped aside to give the paramedics the space they needed to stabilize Liz before she could be taken to the hospital. Without taking his eyes off of her, he told Brass that he and Morgan had been upstairs when they had heard three gunshots.
"So you haven't seen anything?" Brass asked to be sure.
"No."
"Great… Is there any video surveillance?" Brass looked at the young girl behind the bar. Greg knew her name was Marcy, but that's all he knew.
"No," Marcy told Brass. "We have cameras upstairs and at the pool, but not here."
"Can you tell me what happened then?" Brass asked her, sounding slightly impatient.
"I was making coffee for Steven Winwood, that's the man that… that…"
"Got shot, yes," Brass understood, sounding more than just slightly impatient now. "Go on!"
"I had my back towards the door, because I was making coffee and then… I suddenly heard shots… I turned around and saw Steven and Liz on the floor…" Marcy's eyes filled up with tears. Morgan walked over to her and put her left arm around her. "It's okay, Marcy, I know it's difficult, but we have to know what happened if we want to find out who did this to Liz. Did you see anyone with a gun?"
Marcy shook her head. "No, I didn't see anything! I was making coffee and then…"
She started to cry.
"Was there anyone with you?" Morgan asked. Again, Marcy shook her head. "No, I was alone. I always am till ten o'clock. It's always fine… Except… today…"
She started to cry even louder.
"We're taking her to Desert Palm," a paramedic interrupted her crying. He had to speak loud so everyone could hear what he said. "Her family can see her there."
He and the other paramedic took Liz outside to the ambulance. Marcy continued to cry. "She doesn't have any family here, they all live back in Australia!"
"What do you know about Steven Winwood?" Brass asked, while Morgan handed the young girl a tissue. After Marcy had blown her nose, she said: "He had just joined a few weeks ago. He was here every morning to work out for thirty minutes and then he always sat at the bar for nearly an hour, drinking coffee."
"Did he always work out alone or with someone else?" Morgan asked, handing Marcy another tissue.
"Alone," Marcy answered with a small sob. "He always left when someone else sat down next to him at the bar."
"Always?" Greg repeated. Marcy nodded. "You know Alex Fraginni, the Italian guy? He's always weight lifting. He has arms as big as… you!"
Greg slowly nodded, he knew who Marcy meant.
"Well, Alex always has a drink after his work out, but whenever he sat down at the bar, Steven left," Marcy told him. "They had a couple of big fights because Steven thought Alex smelt too much like sweat. He wanted us to make a rule that people first have to shower before they sat down at the bar."
"They fought because of a sweaty smell?" Greg couldn't hide his amazement. "It's a gym!"
"I doubt a sweaty smell is enough reason to kill someone," Brass said. "Or is this Alex Fragilini particularly violent?"
"Fraginni," Marcy corrected him. "No, not that I know of. Alex isn't the nicest man working out here, I'll admit that, but I don't see him killing anyone."
"We'll need to speak with him anyway," Brass said. "Do you know where he is?"
"I thought I saw him in the fitness room earlier," Marcy told him. She threw the wet tissues in the trashcan and took a deep breath. Morgan gave her an encouraging smile. "Well done, Marcy, you've really helped us!"
"I'll see if I can find this Fragile pizza guy," Brass said. He walked over to the fitness room, where Morgan had told everyone to go to so they wouldn't compromise the crime scene. She now shook her head. "If this Alex guy really is as big as Marcy says, then why would he use a gun if he really wanted to kill Steven?"
"What if Steven wasn't the target?" Greg suggested. "What if someone was after Liz?"
"Steven is dead, Liz isn't," Morgan reminded him. "Do you have your kit with you so we can start processing the scene or do we have to wait for Russell?"
"I have my spare kit in my car, yes," he said. He hadn't missed the tone of annoyance in her voice. Was this still about her shoulder or was she just angry at him for another reason? She hadn't sounded that annoyed when she had talked to Marcy, he remembered.
"I'll see if I can find Jack to ask him about the video surveillance anyway, I know there's a camera in the fitness room, we might get lucky," Morgan continued. She didn't have to explain who Jack was, Greg had met the gym club owner many times. "Do you want to start processing the scene?"
He managed to just hold in a 'Yes, ma'am!' and nodded instead. He walked outside to get his spare kit from his car and saw Russell pulling up in his car.
"Nice outfit, Greg!" Russell grinned. Greg gave him a sarcastic smile as response, which made Russell laugh even louder. Then he became serious again. "So, tell me what happened! I've got Morgan's kit with me as well, just like she asked me on the phone. Is this a date gone horribly wrong between you two or am I just missing something?"
"We're not on a date, we just both happened to be here at the same time," Greg told him, sounding a little gruff. Russell smiled at him. "Alright, alright, just tell me what happened!"
While they walked back inside, Greg told him about the shooting. Russell nodded. "Okay, so one dead, one injured and no one saw anything. Well, that should be easy enough! Morgan, what about the video surveillance?"
"The owner is getting the tapes for us right now," she told him.
"Excellent. I've got your kit here, I'll help you process the scene while Greg goes to the hospital to check up on Liz and the bullet she might have in her," Russell decided. Greg watched him hand Morgan her kit, which she clumsily took from him with her left hand. Deciding not to embarrass her in front of Russell, he walked over to her and softly asked her: "Do you want to go to the hospital instead? Maybe you can get your shoulder checked out at the same time…"
"I'm fine!" she told him, immediately sounding angry again. When she looked at him directly, her anger seemed to disappear a little bit. "I'll be fine, okay? Just go and see how Liz is doing!"
"I'll text you as soon as I know anything," he promised her. She didn't say anything, but he was sure he had seen a tiny nod in her eyes.
"I'll just get my clothes from my locker upstairs and then I'll go," he told Russell.
"Why change? You might amuse some people along the way," Russell said with a smile.
"Ha, ha," Greg started, but Morgan interrupted him by snapping at Russell: "Can we focus here? One guy's dead and a woman is seriously injured! I didn't realize that was a good time for jokes!"
Greg saw Russell raise his eyebrows.
"I found a bullet," Morgan continued, picking it up with her left hand. When she got up, she accidentally bumped her right shoulder on the bar. Greg saw her grimace from the pain, but he decided not to say anything. It would be too useless.
After he had changed, he drove to Desert Palm hospital and asked about Liz. He was told that she was still in surgery, but that he could wait for her doctor. He arrived almost an hour later with the bullet in a small plastic bag and Liz' clothes in a bigger paper bag.
"Not my first gunshot victim," he explained when he saw Greg's surprised face.
"How is she?" Greg asked, taking the bags from the doctor.
"She has lost a lot of blood, but she should be fine in a couple of weeks," the doctor told him. "She's very healthy and strong, so I think she will recover very fast. The bullet didn't hit any vital organs and hasn't caused any permanent damage, so I see no reason why she shouldn't recover fully. She's still asleep now, but you can talk to her later."
"Can I see her?" Greg suddenly asked.
"Of course," the doctor nodded. He took Greg to a room on the third floor of the hospital. Greg looked inside through the glass window of the door. Liz was in bed, suddenly looking very small with a white face and in her white hospital gown.
"She should be just fine," the doctor told him again. "We'll of course know for sure when she's awake, but there were no complications during the surgery. If she's not fine, well, then I have to go back to medical school!"
His small joke didn't quite reassure Greg, but he smiled anyway. "Thank you, doctor."
He continued to watch Liz for a few more moments before he decided to go back to CSI to process Liz' clothes. Nick joined him when he was looking at the blood spatter on Liz' purple tank top.
"I heard my idea didn't turn out so great," he said, nodding with his head towards the tank top.
"The doctor said she's going to be fine," Greg told him. "I'm going back to the hospital later to talk to her. Do you know if Russell and Morgan are back from the scene yet?"
"Yeah, I saw Russell go downstairs to the morgue to talk to Doc Robbins about your other victim and I saw Morgan head over to Ballistics," Nick remembered. "Is she still in a bad mood that you know of? When I saw her, she kinda reminded me of Grumpy, that dwarf from Snow White!"
"She's still not exactly happy, no," Greg agreed with him. "I'll go and find her."
He put Liz' clothes back in the evidence bags before he headed over to the Ballistics lab. Morgan was trying to look at the bullets she had found at the scene under the microscope, but she had trouble adjusting the lens with her right hand.
"Why don't you take Liz' clothes and I'll run the bullets?" he suggested, startling her when he suddenly spoke.
"I'm perfectly cap…" she started, but she gave up when he looked at her. "Fine, I'll take the clothes."
She quickly left the Ballistics lab, but not quick enough for Greg to miss the tear running down her face. He hesitated from a moment. Was he supposed to go after her? No, he decided. She'd probably just get angry again and he wanted to avoid another outburst. He walked over to the microscope, adjusted the lens and looked at the bullet. Since he didn't see anything special, he scanned it into the computer and ran it. To his surprise, he found a match. A same kind of bullet had been found two weeks ago in a store. There had been a shooting, but no one had gotten hurt. Greg frowned when he saw the name of the store: Las Vegas Happy Cakes. Besides working out, Liz had another hobby: baking and decorating cakes. He knew Las Vegas Happy Cakes was one of her favorite stores, she had told him once she had spent over a hundred dollar during one visit. Was it a coincidence that the same bullet had been found at the gym where she was working and at her favorite store? Greg printed the information and went to find Morgan. She was busy drawing circles around blood drops on Liz' purple tank top, but since she was using her left hand, she hadn't drawn many circles yet.
"What do you want?" she almost growled when she saw him.
"Do you know Las Vegas Happy Cakes?" he asked, ignoring her growling. She raised her eyebrows. "That's Liz' favorite store. She visits it at least twice a week."
"A bullet that matches the one you found today was found there two weeks ago," Greg told her, handing her the print out. "Do you still think Steven Winwood was the target?"
Morgan looked at the print out. "The bullets match exactly, but the gun was never found… Russell and I didn't find a gun at the gym either. The shooter must have taken it with him again. Do you think he's really after Liz? Who would want to kill her?"
Greg shrugged his shoulders. "No idea… Did you find anything on her clothes?"
"Not yet," she admitted. She took the pen in her left hand again and drew another clumsy circle.
"I'll do it," Greg decided. "You call Brass and let him know what I found out, okay?"
"No, I can do this!" Morgan said, immediately sounding angry again. She grabbed the pen back that he had taken from her.
"Morgan…"
"No!" she shouted. "Everything's fine, I'm just using my left hand instead of my right hand! I used to do it when I was little as well, it's no big deal!"
"It is when you're handling evidence," Greg reminded her.
"I'm not ruining anything, if that's what you think!" she shouted out. She threw the pen back onto the table with her left hand, her right arm still pressed against her stomach. "It's nothing, I told you already, it'll go away by itself! It's just a muscle, no big deal! I'm fine, I'm…"
He had just kept looking at her while she shouted and now he saw her slowly starting to break. Tears started rolling down her face while she still whispered: "I'm fine…"
Without saying another word, he stepped towards her and carefully wrapped his arms around her. He felt her face against his shoulder and only one hand on his back. Her shoulder shook as she cried, which caused her to touch her right shoulder again.
"It hurts like hell," she whispered through her tears. "Help me… please…"
"We'll go back to the hospital to talk to Liz and then you can get your shoulder checked out," he softly told her. She started to shake her head already, but as soon as he reached out to her right arm, she nodded. "Alright, alright, we'll go to the hospital. But I'll be fine, okay?"
"Okay," he said, just to agree with her. He'd say anything right now, just to help her get rid of her pain.