The door closes with an audible “click” on a poorly lit room in Asheville Police Headquarters. Only a small worn-down table with three chairs furnishing the drab interrogation room, reminiscent of every cliché crime drama you see on TV.

“We need to get that light fixed… Sit down Mr. Sanford.” motioning to the chair at the front of the table.

Sitting down and struggling between sobs, “Tell me it’s not true! It can’t be true! Mr. Antollini was loved by all!”

“Was he though? That is not the information we have been receiving. Tissue box is right there…” pointing to the corner of the table. “Why don’t we take it from the top and we can walk through this… so, you and Mr. Antollini arrived…”

A large individual walks into the room, interrupting the conversation to join Officer Ortega and Mr. Sanford. “Some leads coming through already sir.” Officer Kimble notes, handing a manila folder to Officer Ortega. “Anything useful from this one yet?”

Ortega, “No, just getting started. Hmm… flipping through the folder labeled “Yuman #928“… Let’s try this again and start at the beginning. When you and Mr. Antollini first arrived in your limo to the 35th Annual PEBA Winter Meetings, Mr. Antollini was approached by some fancy couple dressed to the nines. Who was it that met you both upon arrival?” Now eyeing Mr. Sanford for any potential tells of a lie.

Sanford, “I was still going through paperwork to prep for potential trades in the limo sir, I swear I was not a part of this conversation! I did not get a chance to meet Ms. Luciano… I mean, not formally.”<

Ortega sighs.…“And who is Ms. Luciano exactly? What business did she have with Mr. Antollini? Eyewitness testimony reports her handing Mr. Antollini something before taking his hand and escorting him away. Where did they go?”Nervously fidgeting, Sanford begins to trail off… “I don’t know… I’m not included in such important conversations… But there have been some outside investors recently trying to sweet talk Mr. Antollini into selling. With how poorly Mr. Czosnyka handled this past season, there has been a lot of arguing going on in-house. Mr. Antollini may have been entertaining the idea of moving on and avoiding the ‘Sell the team’ chants next season…”

“It got that bad, that quick huh? One bad season? One bad trade? I assume it’s not typical for him to miss this, but why was Mr. Czosnyka not at the Winter Meetings this year?”

“The team was off to a very slow start, more so than usual. Mr. Antollini wanted us to find a spark, but Mr. Czosnyka took it to the extreme and traded away almost all of our top hitters! That’s when it all began…” Shaking… “Mr. Czosnyka did not right the ship after that, he just made things worse. So, they began to butt heads more and more. That’s when the phone calls and offers started to come in…”

Officer Ortega rolls his eyes in disgust… “Must be nice that when you screw up, you can just make potential billions off of a sale… but let’s go back a moment. Mr. Antollini received something and then disappeared. But you were seen entering the ballroom with him at the start of the meetings. Where did you meet up? How long were you two apart?”

“I was in the limo finishing up the analytics on possible trades, and, and… maybe recovering from a few to many mimosas…but I swear I didn’t see anything! I met Mr. Antollini at the doors to the ballroom right as things were starting up! Maybe… it was an hour? I don’t recall.” Assistant GM Earl Sanford can’t help but slump in his chair from the exhaustion of the day. “Please, I can’t keep doing this. I didn’t have anything to do with what happened, I did nothing wrong! You have to believe me!”

Eyeing him up suspiciously as if doing so meant he could see deeper into his soul, Ortega needed a break as well… “Kimble, take Mr. Sanford to file the rest of the paperwork. I don’t want him on a plane, bus, train, anything back to New Jersey just yet. I need to check in on a couple things, but we can continue this first thing tomorrow.” Kimble grabs the startled Sanford by the arm and lifts him to his feet as they head to the door. “Let’s go.”

“Kimble… On your way back, get me the puker, Mr. Crocker I believe. I want to know what he knows. He seemed a bit more antsy than everyone else there today. And get me a full report on his past history! I believe this is not Crocker’s first time being involved with dead bodies…”

To be continued…