“You can either tell me who it is, or I’ll set you loose so they can find you themselves. Then you can learn firsthand what happens when you screw them over.”

“I can’t tell you, and I can’t go home, either.”

“Did you have anything to do with the death of Mr. Vasquez?”

“No! What difference did it make to me after the fact if he was dead or alive? Killing him wouldn’t have solved my immediate problem.”

Inclined to believe him and running short on patience, Sam turned to Freddie. “Detective Cruz, will you please see about getting Mr. Collins a ride home.”

Collins surged to his feet. “You can’t do that! They’re going to know where I’ve been and who I’ve been with. The minute you took me into custody, you put a mark on me. If you send me home, I won’t live through the night.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“How is that not your problem?” Spittle flew from his mouth, just missing Sam’s face as she ducked aside. “Isn’t cop an acronym for ‘care of people’?”

“I do care about people—people who help themselves by giving me the information I need. Those are the people I care about.”

“Fine!” He fell back into the chair, defeat resonating from him. “I’ll tell you. Just don’t make me leave here. Please.”

Sam recognized genuine terror when she saw it, and this certainly qualified. “I’m listening.”

“If I tell you, will you promise you’ll protect me?”

“I’ll do what I can. Depends on the quality of the information and whether it’s credible or not.”

“It’s credible. I have a bookie who places bets for me. I have his name and a phone number.”

Sam pushed her pad and pen across the table. “Write it down.”

“I don’t know the number off the top of my head. I need my cell phone. They took it from me when they brought me in here.”

Sam got up and went over to Freddie. “Get the phone,” she said in a low tone.

He nodded and left the room.

Sam returned to the table and reached for the pad on which Collins had written the bookie’s name. Antonio Sandover. The name set off alarm bells, but Sam didn’t know why. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Collins on her way out of the room.

Malone was in the hallway, apparently on his way to see her. “I’ve got the info you asked for on the warrants related to the team. Hope you’re not planning to sleep tonight. There’re a lot of them.”

“Great, can you leave it on my desk?”

“Sure.”

“Why does the name Antonio Sandover ring a big bell with me?”

“The FBI is looking into him. Racketeering and other charges. We got a memo on it a couple of weeks ago.”