Sam Kincaid 01 - The Commission

possibles are individuals we’ve arrested, so we already have those fingerprint cards. We have to get the other three directly from the Utah Bureau of Criminal Identification. They were busted by other Utah police agencies. I’ve got Vince running those down right now.”
    “Maybe we can narrow that list and save everybody time and effort.”
    “Okay. You’ve got my undivided attention. How do you propose we do that?”
    “Does the name Charles Watts appear on the list of possible matches?”
    There was a long pause before she answered. “Sure does. You obviously know something I don’t. Do fill me in.”
    I spent the next few minutes explaining what I’d learned from Baxter Shaw as well as the effort Burnham and I had made in our attempt to locate Watts. We decided that Terry and I should return to Watts’ home and establish visual surveillance while McConnell prepared a search warrant. Besides a witness who could place Watts’ vehicle in the vicinity of the murder at about the time the killing occurred, we now had a single fingerprint that placed Watts at the victim’s home. With a little luck, a search of the home might turn up additional evidence linking him to the murder.
    We settled down for what could be a lengthy wait.
    ***
    By the time McConnell and Turner caught up with us at a location a couple of blocks from Watts’ home, three hours had passed. There was still no sign of Watts. Kate had brought Tom Stoddard from the Salt Lake County Attorney’s Office to assist. She seemed somehow uncomfortable with his presence. I couldn’t tell whether something had happened between them to create the strain, or whether McConnell was uncomfortable because she knew that I knew about their ongoing relationship. As for me, I had to admit his presence created just a tinge of something—insecurity or jealousy perhaps, feelings I’d just as soon not have, those ugly emotions best kept locked in a jar on a shelf somewhere.
    Stoddard was a career prosecutor. He joined the Salt Lake County Attorney’s Office right out of law school. Over time, he developed a reputation as a fair, but tough-minded prosecutor. Now he was one of just a handful of senior deputies who prosecuted the most serious felony offenses. He would be the logical choice to prosecute this one.
    Executing the search warrant came off without a hitch. Turner found an unsecured window at the side of the duplex leading into one of the bedrooms. He popped the screen off and was inside in seconds. The duplex was small with everything on one level. The furnishings looked cheap, but relatively new, like maybe they had come from a furniture rental company.
    We donned latex gloves and divided into two teams. Stoddard kept his distance and observed. We searched the place systematically with one team following the other from room to room. McConnell and I took the lead, while Burnham and Turner followed.
    We began in the kitchen. While I had my nose buried in a rank-smelling refrigerator, Kate examined a stack of mostly junk mail left on top of a small dining table.
    Within seconds, she said, “Take a look at this, Sam.”
    “Find something interesting?”
    She didn’t answer immediately. She was reading hand-written notes from a lined yellow pad. “These notes contain dates, times, and places, that trace the movements of Vogue. They detail his comings-and-goings from home and the parole board office.”
    I was reading over her shoulder. “Jesus. Look at that,” I said, pointing to the last entry on the page. “It appears Watts had even tracked Vogue to the Starlite Motel. Levi didn’t realize it, but he was being stalked in the days leading to his murder.”
    “That’s what it looks like,” said Kate. She photographed the notes and placed them in an evidence bag.
    Minutes later, while she rummaged through a dresser drawer full of socks and underwear, Kate found something else. “Look at this, Sam. Two boxes of twelve gauge shotgun shells. One hasn’t been opened, but the other has. Five shells are missing.”
    “Mr. Watts now has something else to explain,” I said. “Wouldn’t it be nice if the shotgun turns up as well.”
    It didn’t.
    We left a copy of the warrant in the house as well as an inventory record of the property we had seized.
    Turning to Stoddard, Kate said, “I think it’s time we get an arrest warrant for Mr. Watts.”
    Stoddard agreed. “One count of capital murder sounds about right. I’d be happy to take this case