06 Fatal Mistake

by Marie Force

  “You know what I mean, Ben. Why are you getting all sentimental? You were as mad as anyone yesterday.”

  “That was before I knew someone killed the poor guy. I know we’re all bummed about the game, but Willie is dead. I mean... I’m sorry, but I don’t think he deserved to die for not catching a baseball.”

  “You’ve gone soft, man.”

  “Your opinion. Get me someone else, Marcy.”

  The next caller wasn’t much more forgiving, but did express a bit of empathy toward Willie’s wife and kids.

  “People are seriously fucked up,” Sam said.

  “Seriously.”

  When they arrived at the stadium, the same receptionist from the day before sent them right up to the executive offices in the elevator that had no buttons.

  “How does it know where to go?” Sam asked, studying the panel of red lights that meant something to someone. They meant nothing to her.

  “I think it’s only got one destination.”

  “Let me do the talking in there.”

  “Of course, Lieutenant. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Sam, but she refrained from commenting. She missed Freddie and his sucking up. Tomorrow they’d get back to normal.

  The elevator doors opened. Ray’s assistant, Aaron, was waiting for them. “Right this way.”

  “What’s with the VIP treatment?” Sam asked.

  “Ray asked us to fully cooperate with your investigation,” Aaron said. “That’s what we’re doing.”

  “It’s very refreshing,” Sam said. “We don’t get a lot of cooperation in our line of work.”

  Aaron knocked once and entered Ray’s office. He was seated at his conference table with Bob Minor. Sam was glad to see them both there, as she had questions for Minor too.

  “Do you have news?” Ray asked, looking to his friend Hill. Ray had aged overnight and looked like he still hadn’t slept at all.

  “No, but we have more questions,” Sam said.

  “I have a question too—why did you arrest my general manager?”

  “He wasn’t arrested. He was brought in for questioning.”

  “Why?”

  “There were some irregularities in his financial records that we needed to have explained.”

  “What kind of irregularities?”

  “The all-but-broke kind.”

  “How is that possible?” Ray asked, incredulous. “He makes several million dollars a year.”

  “That answers one of my questions.”

  “When I went to speak with him yesterday,” Hill said, “I found his home all smashed up. He’d taken a baseball bat to anything that could be smashed. Why would he do that?”

  “Other than losing the biggest game of his career due to an error by one of his highest-paid players?” Minor asked, his tone thick with sarcasm.

  “Is it possible Collins wagered on the game?” Sam asked.

  The two men exchanged glances. “I wouldn’t have any information about that,” Ray said.

  “Me either,” Minor said. “If he bet on the game, he was risking his job and his career. That’s one quick way to get banned from the game for life.”

  Sam knew there was more to the Collins story, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere on that here. “Let’s talk about Jamie Clark and her relationship with Willie.”

  “What about it?” Ray asked, taken aback by the question.

  “We’re told it was somewhat common knowledge around here that there was more to it than just a trainer-player relationship.”

  Ray’s face slackened with shock. “Told by whom?”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Hill said. “Was it common knowledge to you?”

  “Not to me,” Ray said.

  All eyes fell on Minor who squirmed and then wilted under the intense glare of the team owner.

  “Did you know about this, Bob?” Ray asked.

  “I suspected there was something going on,” Bob said haltingly. “They spent an awful lot of time together.”

  Ray’s face got very red. “And you never said anything?”

  “I didn’t think it was any of my business.”

  “None of your business,” Ray said, astounded. “Like we’d need that kind of scandal with one of our marquee players, who is known for being a devoted family man?”

  “It was because of his family that I kept my mouth shut,” Bob said. “People like Carmen. No one wanted to see her hurt by her husband’s stupidity.”

  “Is Ms. Clark here today?” Sam asked.

  “No,” Bob said. “She took a personal day.”

  “We’ll need her address.”

  “What for?” Bob asked.

  “What do you think?” Sam asked, beginning to be annoyed by him.

  “She had nothing to do with this,” Bob said.

  “And you know this how?”

  “I know her! She’s not a killer!”

  “If that’s the case, then she has nothing to worry about. But you’ll pardon me if your assertions aren’t enough to keep us from looking more closely at her and her relationship with Willie.” To Ray, Sam said, “Can you please get me her home address?”

  “Yes, of course,” Ray said, reaching for his phone.

  “Get Rick Lind’s while you’re at it,” Avery said.

  “What the hell do you want with him?” Bob asked.

  “We’d like to talk to him about the meltdown he had in the locker room after the game, for one thing,” Sam said. “You know, the meltdown you failed to mention to us yesterday?”

  Bob’s ruddy complexion darkened with rage. “He was rightfully pissed off! The loss gets pinned on him along with the blown save. But that doesn’t mean he killed Willie.”

  “Maybe not, but it would’ve been nice to hear about the incident from you when we asked if anyone had spouted off after the game,” Sam said.

  “I told you to be forthcoming,” Ray said, visibly displeased with his manager.

  “I didn’t think a thing of it!” Bob said. “Of course Lind was pissed. A lot of people were.”

  “Including Mulroney?” Hill asked.

  “What did you hear about him?” Bob asked.

  “Just that he had a lot to say about Vasquez after the game,” Hill said.

  Bob glared at Hill. “Do you have the first clue what Willie denied his teammates by missing that ball? Do you have any idea how hard we’d all worked to get to that moment? All he had to do was catch the goddamned ball! We pay him sixteen million dollars a year to catch the goddamned ball!”

  “That’s enough, Bob,” Ray said. “People were understandably upset. I think that goes without saying.”

  “Perhaps it does,” Sam said, “but when we asked you yesterday if anyone was particularly vocal, this was the information we were looking for.”

  “We apologize for our failure to provide that information,” Ray said. “We were shocked by the news of Willie’s death on top of the shock of the loss. Yesterday was a rough day around here, to say the least. I hope you’ll accept my apology on behalf of my organization.”

  Sam appreciated a good suck-up as much as the next cop, but this guy was a little much. Just as she was about to say so, the office door opened and a tall, model-thin blonde breezed into the room like she owned the place. Ah, Sam thought, the wife. Elle Kopelsman Jestings—socialite, philanthropist and newspaper publisher, who did, in fact, own the place. Right behind her were two tall, muscular men, who appeared to be identical twins. They stood like lumps of meat right inside the door, keeping a close watch on Elle.

  Very interesting, Sam thought, that she had such obvious security.

  She went right to Hill, who stood to greet her with a hug.

  “Nice to see you again, Avery.” She spoke with a cultured, upper-crust voice that sounded rich—if a voice could sound rich. “Dreadful circumstances.”

  “Nice to see you too, Elle. I don’t believe you know Lieutenant Holland from the Metro PD?”
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  Elle turned her formidable blue-eyed gaze on Sam. “Everyone knows Lieutenant Holland and her very handsome senator husband.”

  Sam wasn’t sure she liked the almost predatory way Elle described her husband. It was all right for her to say that about Nick, but anyone else... “Good to meet you,” Sam said, returning the handshake.

  “I’m thrilled to meet you. I was just saying to Ray last week that we need to get you and the senator to one of our dinner parties.”

  “We’re a little busy investigating a murder and running for reelection to be talking about social events,” Sam said.

  Judging by the surprise that registered in her expression, Elle was unused to being rebuffed when extending a coveted social invitation. “My apologies for interrupting. I came over to find out if there’s any news about Willie. It’s such an awful tragedy.”

  “Yes, it is,” Sam said. “If you wouldn’t mind, we’d like to conclude our meeting with your husband and Mr. Minor.” Sam would never say so out loud, but she very much enjoyed the moment when it registered with Elle that Sam was asking her to leave.

  Ray got up and went to his wife. With a hand on her lower back he guided her to the door.

  “Why are they bothering you when it’s clear that a crazy fan killed him?” Elle asked, loudly enough to ensure that everyone heard her.

  “They’re being thorough, honey. Give us a few minutes, and I’ll be right out.”

  “Fine,” Elle said in a frosty note of displeasure that spoke of entitlement and all the things Sam hated most about rich people who thought they owned the world. She wondered if poor Ray, who seemed like a nice enough guy, would be made to pay for his audacity in showing her out of a room her father had put him into in the first place.

  The two hunks of meat followed their boss out of the room like faithful dogs.

  Ray returned to his spot behind the desk. “Sorry about the interruption.”

  “Were you aware of the problem Willie was having with his brother-in-law?” Sam asked, unwilling to waste any more time with pleasantries.

  Both men nodded.

  “One of Carmen’s brothers is a troublemaker,” Ray said. “He’s had issues with drugs, multiple arrests. He was always after Willie to bail him out. During spring training, Willie cut off the money and got a restraining order to keep the brother-in-law away from him, Carmen and the kids. Apparently, Willie’s refusal to give him more money caused a big rift in Carmen’s family because her parents felt that she and Willie ought to be helping the brother.”

  “Did it cause a rift between Willie and Carmen too?” Sam asked.

  “That I don’t know,” Ray said.

  Bob shrugged. “He didn’t talk about it beyond notifying team security about the restraining order.”

  “How many of your players have restraining orders in place?”

  Ray glanced at Bob, who shrugged.

  “I’d say all of them have at least one,” Bob said. “If they spend a night with a woman, she’s got them married with three kids by the next day. Some of them don’t get the brush-off message without legal intervention.”

  Sam made a note that pushed getting the details on the various restraining orders attached to members of the team to the top of her to-do list. “That’s all for now,” she said, standing. “I’d ask that you both remain in town and available for additional questioning should the need arise.”

  “For how long?” Bob asked.

  “For as long as it takes.”

  Chapter Ten

  Armed with home addresses for Jamie Clark, Rick Lind and Cecil Mulroney, Sam and Hill left the stadium and headed for Carmen Vasquez’s home in Georgetown. On the way, Sam left a message for Captain Malone, asking him to push the restraining order report to the top of his priorities.

  “Why does Elle have such obvious security?”

  “She’s had them since one of her father’s enemies tried to kidnap her as a child. Boris and Horace have been with her for years.”

  Outside the main gates to Carmen’s building, several bunches of flowers had been laid, a couple of candles flickered in the breeze and a picture of Willie in his Feds uniform had been taped to the brick wall.

  “Sort of a pathetic display of grief,” Sam said.

  “Especially when you consider that if something had happened to him two days ago, there would’ve been a sea of flowers and mourners.”

  “No kidding.”

  Security around the luxury condo complex had eased up since the day before, and they were shown right in to the elevator that took them to Carmen’s top floor home. A muscular Hispanic man answered the door and eyed them suspiciously.

  “What do you want?”

  “Lieutenant Holland, Metro PD, and FBI Special Agent Hill to see Mrs. Vasquez.”

  “She’s not seeing anyone right now.”

  “She’s seeing us.” Sam engaged in a staring contest, which she won when he turned away, leaving the door open.

  Inside, they found several adults of various ages in the living room with the Vasquez children. Toys were scattered on the floor, and the coffee table was laden with a wide variety of food. They spoke in rapid-fire Spanish that Sam was unable to follow, but the suspicious glances directed their way were easy to understand. These people were distrustful of cops.

  The man who’d answered the door returned with his arm around Carmen. She looked at them with glazed eyes.

  Seeing their mother, the two little boys let out shrieks and ran toward her. Family members scooped them up before they could get to her.

  Carmen watched the scene with a detached aura about her, only glancing at her children when one of them began to cry.

  “Has she been medicated?” Hill asked.

  “The doctor gave her something to help her sleep.”

  “How long ago?” Sam asked.

  “Around five in the morning.”

  Enough time had passed, she decided, that they might be able to have a coherent conversation with her.

  “We’d like to speak to her in private,” Sam said.

  “I’m not leaving her,” the man said in heavily accented English.

  “And you are?”

  “Her older brother. Eduardo Peña.”

  “Who are all these other people?”

  “Our parents, two aunts and a cousin. They came with me last night to be with her and the children.”

  Realizing she wasn’t going to be able to get rid of the brother, Sam said, “All right. Just you. Find us a private space.”

  “This way.”

  He led them to an office behind the kitchen and settled his sister into a chair before going back to close the door.

  Carmen stared straight ahead, her face devoid of expression.

  Sam sat across from her and dragged her chair closer to the other woman. “Carmen,” Sam said, placing her hand on top of Carmen’s freezing cold hand.

  She glanced at Sam with dead-looking eyes. “Do you know who killed my husband?”

  “Not yet, but we’re working really hard to find out what happened. I need to ask you a couple more questions that I hope you’ll feel up to answering.”

  She gave a small nod.

  “You have another brother?” Sam asked.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “Marco.”

  “What does he have to do with anything?” Eduardo asked sharply.

  “Mr. Peña, we’re interested in speaking with your sister,” Hill said. “Not you. Be quiet or leave the room.”

  Judging by the hostile stare he directed at Hill, Eduardo wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to that way.

  “Willie had some problems with Marco?” Sam asked.

  Carmen bit her lower lip and nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Marco has been in trouble, and Willie helped him out a few times with money and lawyers. After the most recent situation, he said he was done helping him.”

  “What recent situation?”

  “I don’t see what this has to do with anything,”
Eduardo said.

  Sam glanced at Hill, who was already showing the other man to the door.

  “You can’t just kick me out! This is my sister’s home. You can’t come in here and push us around. That’s harassment.”

  “Unless you’d like to be arrested for interfering with a police investigation,” Sam said, “I’d suggest you shut up and get out before I get pissed off.”

  “You don’t want that to happen,” Hill said. “She has a vindictive side.” He opened the door and “helped” Eduardo into the hallway. “Give us a few minutes with your sister, and then we’ll be on our way.”

  Eduardo started to say something else, but Hill closed the door in his face.

  Sam returned her attention to Carmen. “The incident you referred to... What happened?”

  “Marco got involved with some bad people, and he owed them a lot of money. I don’t know all the details, except that Willie refused to give him any more money. Marco said they’d kill him if he didn’t get the money, but Willie refused to give in.”

  “Did you agree with his decision?”

  “I, um, well... No. I didn’t agree. We argued about it. I didn’t understand why Willie wouldn’t help my brother. He had plenty of money.”

  Sam thought it interesting that she said Willie had plenty of money, not they had plenty of money. “What did he say when you tried to convince him to give Marco the money?”

  “He got mad. He said it had to end at some point. He wasn’t made of money, and just because he had a lot now, didn’t mean he always would. He said he’d be lucky to play for ten more years, and if we spent all the money now, what would happen to us later?”

  Sam had to agree with Willie’s smart thinking. “Do you know how much he’d given Marco in the past?”

  “Close to a million.”

  Sam had to hide her shock at the high number. Who could blame the guy for cutting off the leech? “What did Marco need with that kind of money?”

  “He made some bad investments.” Carmen seemed almost ashamed as she spoke of her brother’s poor judgment.

  “Was he in trouble with the police?”

  She nodded. “He had problems with drugs. That was one reason why Willie said no more. He was afraid Marco was spending it on drugs.”

  “Was he?”

  “I don’t know. Willie hasn’t let me see him in years.”