Avery and Bixby coexisted in awkward silence as they watched the CSU detectives comb through every inch of the locker room. Seven minutes later, four men came in through the tunnel. Of varying heights, they were all ripped with muscles and seemed annoyed to be called from whatever they’d been doing.

“What’s up?” one of them asked.

Hill nodded to Bixby, giving him permission to fill them in. “This is Agent Hill with the FBI. He’s notified me that Willie Vasquez has been murdered.”

The four men exchanged glances.

“What’s that got to do with us?” the same guy asked. He seemed to be the spokesman for all of them.

“What’s your name?” Avery asked.

“Jim,” he said tentatively, glancing at Bixby who nodded.

“Jim what?”

“Morris.”

“I heard you talking about Lind last night,” Bixby said. “About how pissed off he was at Vasquez.”

“You don’t think—”

“We don’t think anything,” Avery said. “We just want to know what you might’ve heard him saying about Vasquez.”

“He was fucking furious and rightfully so.”

“Can you tell me, specifically, what you heard Lind say or what you saw him do?” Avery asked.

“Will he find out I talked to you?” Jim asked. “I don’t want to piss him off.”

“You have to understand, Agent Hill,” Bixby said. “Our job is to protect and secure the ballpark as well as the players and to ensure the fans have a safe, enjoyable experience here. It goes against everything we believe in to speak to an outsider about one of the players.”

“I understand and respect your position. However, a man has been murdered—a man who was loved by this organization yesterday, a man who has a wife and two young children who are counting on us to give them answers. If you know something that will help us get those answers for them, this is no time to be worried about pissing someone off.”

“He said if he had a gun, he’d shoot Vasquez himself,” another of them said.

“Your name?”

“Kyle Davidson.”

Avery made a note. “You heard Lind say those words?”

“Yes, sir. He was running around the locker room, slamming doors and swearing. He was totally out of control, so Minor asked us to get down there in case there was trouble.”

Interesting, Avery thought, that Minor had failed to mention the incident with Lind during their conversation. He made another note.

“Did you have to get involved?”

Kyle shook his head. “We stood by in case we were needed, but Lind wore himself out before we had to intervene.”

“Were any of the other players spouting off?” Avery asked.

“Cecil Mulroney was pretty pissed too,” Jim said. “He’s the left fielder who grabbed the ball after Vasquez missed it.”

Avery knew who Mulroney was, but didn’t interrupt to tell him that.