After a charged moment of silence, Ray got up, went over to his desk and made a call. Weariness clung to him as he leaned against the desk. “Aaron, will you please ask Bob and Jamie to come up? Thank you.” He returned to the sofa. “I’ve asked our manager, Bob Minor, and trainer, Jamie Clark, to join us. They were with Willie longer than I was last night. Our general manager, Garrett Collins, is out today. The security director, Hugh Bixby, is dealing with police at the moment.”

“You were with Willie after the game?” Sam asked as she made a note to pay Collins a visit at home.

“For a short time. He was inconsolable. We kept the media out of the locker room so he wouldn’t have to face their questions.”

“Walk me through everything that happened from the time Willie was brought off the field by team security,” Sam said. “I need to know who was with him, what was said, when he left, how he left.”

“Bob and Jamie will be able to speak more to that than I can. I was with him briefly in the training room after the game.”

“Who were his friends on the team?” Hill asked.

“Again, Bob would be better able to speak to that, but from what I observed, Willie was friends with everyone. His teammates respected and admired him. We all did. Have you seen Carmen?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “My partner is with her, and her brother is on the way from the Dominican Republic.”

Ray closed his eyes but was unable to keep a tear from leaking out the side of his right eye. He brushed it away and opened his eyes. “She and Willie were very devoted to each other. I can’t imagine what she must be going through. We’ll reach out to make the team’s resources available to her.” He looked at Hill. “I’ve been in the business world my entire adult life, but nothing like this has ever happened before. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“First and foremost cooperate with the investigation,” Hill said. “Ensure that everyone in your organization does the same.”

“Of course. That goes without saying.”

“Mr. Jestings, prior to last night’s error, do you know of anyone who had a beef with Mr. Vasquez? Anyone he argued with or had problems with?”

“No. Like I said, he was very well liked. Here’s Bob now. You can ask him. He’ll tell you the same thing.”

The gray-haired manager was stocky and thick through the middle with a ruddy, sunburned complexion. He wore a Feds ball cap and team jacket with jeans. “How come there’re cops all over the place?” Bob asked Ray.

He gestured to Sam and Avery. “This is FBI Special Agent Avery Hill, an old friend of mine from Charleston, and MPD Lieutenant Holland.”