She needed to call Hill, but Freddie wouldn’t have his number. She’d do that as soon as she got back to her own phone. “I don’t want my person in a Dumpster, and yet here I am. Where’s Gonzo’s number on this thing?” she asked, fiddling with it while trying to keep her balance on top of a mountain of trash. The phone nearly flew out of her hand, but she caught it just in time, giving Freddie a sly grin.

“Do not drop it. If you do, you owe me a new one.”

“Yeah, yeah. Gonzo? Now?”

He walked her through the steps of finding Gonzo’s number.

“I don’t know why they call these freaking things smart phones. I never feel more stupid than when I try to use one of them.”

“There is so much I could say to that. So, so much.”

“And yet you wisely choose not to.”

“I heard they’re keeping the 2G network alive just for you and that old flip phone of yours.”

“Couldn’t resist, huh?”

“Nope.”

The phone rang and rang. Just when she was about to give up on Gonzo, he picked up.

“What’s up, Cruz?”

“It’s Sam.”

“Oh, Lieutenant. Sorry. What’s going on?”

“We’ve caught a homicide. Willie Vasquez.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

Now that was the kind of language she expected from her officers at times like this. “Keep a lid on it. I’m not looking for the city to erupt again.”

“Right. Of course. What can I do?”

“I know you’re just off an overnight, but Cruz told me they’re airing out the game on the radio. I need you to monitor sports talk this morning. Get a handle on what’s being said about the game, about him, about the fans. Take note of anyone who seems a little too angry, if you catch my drift.”

“Will do. What else?”

“Dig into his life. I need all the usual info, including financials.”

“Got it. Where’d you find him?”

“In a Dumpster behind Air and Space.”

“Whoa,” Gonzo said. “Tossing him in the trash. That makes a statement, huh?”

“Sure does. Freaking sports in this country. Totally out of hand.”

“No kidding. I’m on it and will report in when I have something. So Farnsworth released you from time-out, huh?”

“Um, not exactly.”

Gonzo’s bark of laughter made Sam smile. “I love it,” he said.

“Get to work, Detective.” She ended the call and passed the phone back to Freddie, who handled it gingerly before jamming it into his coat pocket. “Where the hell is McNamara?”

“Here I come,” Lindsey called. “Sorry for the delay. The streets are a mess. What’ve we got?”

Sam filled Lindsey in and then told Cruz to help the M.E. into the Dumpster.