"Shit," Sam muttered, noting that Freddie gripped the wheel a little tighter.

"Yeah. Sucks big-time."

"Financials?"

"Not yet. A lot of his accounts were in the Dominican Republic. I've left messages."

"What're they saying on the radio?" Sam asked.

"People are extremely pissed. The guys on WFBR, the Feds' radio station, are really fanning the fire."

"We'll have to pay them a visit at some point."

"I can do that if you'd like."

"That'd help. Work it until sixteen thirty and call it a day. Meet up at HQ at zero seven hundred."

"Will do. I'll let you know what I find out. Um, Lieutenant, could I speak to you about something unrelated to the case?"

"Sure."

"Off the speaker, if you don't mind. No offense, Cruz."

"None taken." Freddie fiddled with his phone and handed it to her.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to let you know that I might need some time off in the next couple of weeks. The situation with Alex's mother looks to be heading to court." He filled her in on the latest developments.

"I'm sorry, Gonzo. That sucks."

"Yeah. I haven't said too much to Christina about it yet because of the campaign and how busy she's been, so I'd appreciate it if you kept it quiet for now."

She got that he was asking her not to tell Nick, in particular. "I understand. Let me know if I can do anything to help."

"I might need some character witnesses, beginning with a decorated police lieutenant and her senator husband."

"Whatever we can do. You only have to ask."

"Thanks. It's okay to tell Cruz what's going on. I can use all the support I can get, but I wanted to let you know about the time off."

"I'll tell him, and don't worry about the time. We'll cover for you."

"Thanks, Sam. I'll get back to you after I hit the radio station."

"Talk to you then."

She handed the phone to Freddie.

"Everything okay?"

"He said I could tell you that he's heading into what could be an ugly custody battle with Alex's mother."

"Oh, crap. Can she do that? Show up months later and stake a claim?"

"She's his mother, and from what Gonzo said she's apparently gone to great lengths to clean up her act."

"He must be freaking out."

"Just a little, and he's not saying much about it to Christina until after the election."

"I won't say anything to anyone. Don't worry."

"You could say something to him. He's going to need his friends."

"I will." He drove the car into the parking lot and flashed his badge at the security guard. "Detective Cruz and Lieutenant Holland to see Mrs. Vasquez."

"What's this in reference to?"

"It's personal."

The guard studied both their badges before returning them to Freddie. "You're that cop who's married to the senator."

"Really? I didn't know that. Let us in. Now."

"No need to be cranky about it. You'll be met in the lobby by a member of security and escorted to the Vasquez residence."

"Excellent."

Freddie put up the window and waited for the security arm to rise before he drove on.

"I wasn't being cranky."

"You're never cranky."

"Why do people think I need to be told who I'm married to?"

"Because they're afraid you might forget?"

"That's always a possibility, I suppose."

The banter helped to keep their minds off the dreadful task that awaited them inside. He pulled into a visitor parking space and cut the engine but made no move to get out of the car.

"I hate this," he said.

"I do too, but sitting here another five minutes isn't going to make it any easier. Let's get it over with and get back to figuring out what happened."

Another Keystone cop met them in a lobby that was all marble and greenery and opulence. The security guy wore a well-tailored black suit and an earpiece. As Sam wondered if the earpiece made him feel more important, she noticed two other men and a woman, all in suits, all with earpieces and handheld radios. An awful lot of obvious security for a richy-rich condo building, she thought, wondering who else lived in the building.

"Right this way," the security guy assigned to escort them said. "We figured it was only a matter of time before the angry fans found out where Mr. Vasquez lives, so we've ramped up security today."

Sam appreciated that he didn't dick around and try to stonewall them the way private security usually did. "Probably not a bad idea."

"Is everything all right with Mr. Vasquez?" he asked with genuine concern.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that." He'd find out soon enough that everything was not all right with Mr. Vasquez.

"I understand." He led them past a reception desk to a bank of elevators and used a key inside to access the top floor. The elevator didn't make a sound as it whooshed them to the penthouse that made up the seventh and eighth floors.

"Please wait here," he said when the elevator opened into a hallway with two doors. He proceeded to the door on the left, knocking softly. He spoke in low tones to the domestic who answered the door and then gestured for Sam and Freddie to come. They were ushered into what could only be called a palace with a breathtaking view of Washington Harbor, Georgetown, the Key Bridge and Arlington National Cemetery across the river. The maid showed them to a sitting room and said she would get Mrs. Vasquez.

"Wow," Freddie whispered as he took in the plush digs. "Baseball has been very, very good to him."

"Seriously."

A pretty, petite young woman with dark hair and red, puffy eyes came running into the room. "Are you from the team?" She spoke with a heavy Hispanic accent and looked more like a teenager than a wife and mother. "Did they send you? Were they able to find my Willie?"

"Carmen Vasquez?" Sam asked.

"Yes." She came over to Sam and gripped her arm frantically. "Tell me you found him. Please tell me."

Sam wished in that moment to be anywhere else in the world. "Come have a seat."

"No, I don't want to sit. I want to know what's going on."

A little dark-haired boy came toddling into the room, dragging a blanket behind him. Judging by his size, Sam gauged him to be Miguel, the older of their two sons. "Mama... Que te pasa? Por que estas triste? Donde esta papa?"

His mother picked him up, whispered to him and handed him over to the maid.

Sam glanced at Freddie and saw the same unbearable sadness etched into his expression that she was feeling. She'd learned over the years to say it quickly, to put it out there and get it over with. But this time the words got stuck on the lump in her throat.

Sensing her distress, Freddie stepped forward. "Senora Vasquez, lo siento pero tengo que decirle que su marido fue encontrado asesinado."

Carmen screamed and clawed at Freddie's chest. "Por favor dime que no es verdad. No, no, no."

"Lo siento. Ojala pudiera."

Thankfully, Cruz was standing close enough to catch Carmen when she fainted. He eased her onto a sofa.

"Go find the maid," Sam said to the security guy, who watched the scene unfold with big eyes and shock etched into his expression. He didn't need to speak Spanish to understand what'd just happened. "Get a cold cloth and some water. Hurry."

By the time Carmen regained consciousness a minute later, he had returned with the items Sam requested.

Freddie ran the cloth over Carmen's tearstained face. "Toma una respiracion profunda."

"Por favor, dime que no se verdad susurro." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"Lo siento."

"No," Carmen said as she broke down again. "Por favor, no." She glanced at Sam and thankfully switched to English. "He can't be dead. Not my Willie. It wasn't his fault. He made a mistake. People make mistakes all the time. How could they kill him over it?"

"I don't know," Sam said, "but I promise we'll do all we can to find out what happened." She stopped short of assuring the other woman that she'd definitely get the murderer. For the first time in her illustrious career, she'd come across a case in which tens of thousands of people-perhaps even hundreds of thousands-had a motive for murder.

Carmen fixed her gaze on Sam. "I know you. Have we met?"

Sam shook her head. "I'm married to Senator Cappuano from Virginia. That's probably how you know me."

"Yes, we saw you at the convention. Willie admired your husband."

"My son admired your husband. He was very kind to him at a camp this past summer."

"That's my Willie." Her eyes welled with new tears. "He's kind to everyone. He never hurt anyone." She looked up at Sam with watery brown eyes. "How..."

"He was stabbed in the chest. The medical examiner believes he died very quickly."

With her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs, Carmen shook her head as if to deny what Sam had told her.

"Is there someone we could call for you? A friend or family member?"

Carmen took a moment to collect herself, to wipe the tears from her face and to sit up a bit. "Yesterday, I would've been able to give you a list of friends, mostly Willie's teammates and their wives or girlfriends. When he didn't come home last night, I called them all to see if they knew where he was, and none of them answered. The only one who took my call was Ray Jestings."

"When did you last speak to Willie?" Freddie asked.

"Before the game. He called about twenty minutes before it started."

"Did he express any worries or concerns about the game, other than the obvious stress of the play-offs?" Sam asked.

"No, he was very calm all day. Determined. Focused. He spent the morning playing with the boys and left for the ballpark around two."

"Did you attend the game?"

Carmen shook her head. "My younger son has been sick, so I stayed home with the boys." She paused, her eyes filling again. "I'm glad now that I wasn't there. I was so upset when it happened. I knew how awful he must be feeling, and when they started throwing trash at him..."

Sam ached at the thought of having to tell her he'd been found in a Dumpster. They'd be keeping that detail to themselves-for now.

"Did he have problems with anyone on the team?"

"No, they all loved him. They even made him one of their captains this season. He was so proud of that. He'd worked so hard for so long... He made one mistake. One. And someone killed him for it?"

"We don't know anything yet," Sam said.

"But that's why! They killed him because he missed that ball! How do I tell my boys that their papa died because he didn't catch a ball?"

Sam didn't want to think about her own son finding out about the ballplayer's senseless death, let alone Willie's sons. She sat next to Carmen and took her hand. "I've been doing this a long time, long enough that I've seen the worst of humankind-and the best. The one thing I've never understood is how anyone can take a life. I hope I never reach the point in my career where that makes sense to me. I've also learned that the most obvious motive often has nothing to do with what really happened. There's a good chance this will never make sense to you. If we do our jobs, you'll know how it happened, but you may never know exactly why."

"What am I supposed to do now? He was my whole world. Willie and our boys. They're my world." When she sagged, Sam put an arm around her, something she rarely did with strangers.

"I need to know if Willie had a cell phone."