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.”

“Yes, he had it with him all the time in case I needed to reach him.”

“It wasn’t on him when we found him, so I’ll need the number.” Sam dropped her arm from around Carmen’s shoulders to write down the number as Carmen recited it for her.

“Could we call your family or his?” Freddie asked. “You’ll want them to know what’s happened before his death is reported on the news.”

“I’ll call my brother,” she said, defeated as acceptance began to settle in. “He’ll take care of telling Willie’s family, and he’ll come here to be with me.”

“Where is he?” Freddie asked.

“In the D.R.”

“If you’d like me to wait here with you until he arrives, I’d be happy to do that,” Freddie offered, glancing at Sam.

After the night without sleep, they were running on fumes and would have to quit soon anyway. She gave a short nod to grant her approval.

“Do you want me to call your brother for you?” Freddie asked.

“Yes, please. I don’t think I could say the words.”

“I’ll say them for you,” he said.

Before she left, she took Freddie aside. “You came here hungry. Want me to have something sent over for you?”

He shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ve lost my appetite.”

She could understand why. “When the brother gets here, go home. Meet me at HQ at zero seven hundred. You did good with her, Detective.”

“Glad you thought so. I was dying inside.”

“Me too.”

He handed over her keys. “Where’re you going from here?”

“The ballpark.”

* * *

On the way to the Federals’ stadium, which was named after a credit card company Sam had never heard of and could never remember the name of, she called dispatch.