Sam Kincaid 01 - The Commission

district, not more than two miles from the home of Levi Vogue. The condo was a second-floor unit looking down on an outdoor pool and hot tub surrounded by a mature garden with sitting benches strategically placed around the grounds.
    She’d arrived moments before I did and was busy in the kitchen transferring the Chinese food from cartons to serving dishes. She directed me to the plates and silverware and had me set the table on the outdoor patio deck. She grabbed two wine glasses and an open bottle of Chardonnay. When I declined the wine, she sent me to the refrigerator to help myself to a beer. The fridge contained a dozen bottles of Coors. Since Kate wasn’t a beer drinker, I assumed the beer probably belonged to Stoddard. Kate reached around me and opened the freezer door. Out came a large and very cold beer stein. As for Stoddard, I decided not to go there.
    “So tell me, how did you end up with a career in state corrections?” Kate asked.
    “Well, I got in quite by accident. Becoming a cop certainly wasn’t on my radar screen as a kid. In high school, my priorities were basketball, girls, and academics—in that order. Occasionally, the order changed to girls, basketball, and academics. But academics was never the first priority. Don’t get me wrong. I got by all right, but I was never on anybody’s short list to become valedictorian of my senior class.
    “After high school, I was fortunate enough to have several full-ride scholarship offers in basketball from some pretty decent Division I schools. I signed a letter-of-intent with the University of New Mexico and headed off to Albuquerque. I lasted two years in the program before tearing up the ACL in my left knee.”
    “Did you have to have surgery?”
    “I did, and I’ve got an ugly scar to prove it. I wish the medical community had the technology twenty years ago that they do today. The knee still isn’t right.”
    “That’s not good. I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “Anyway, my basketball career came to an abrupt end and so did the athletic scholarship that paid the bills. Much to my parents’ chagrin, I dropped out of school and headed north to Santa Fe. I fell in love with the town but needed a job if I was going to stay. One day as I was perusing the local paper, I noticed an ad for a corrections officer at the New Mexico State Prison. The prison is just outside Santa Fe. It was shortly after the big riot—you know, the one where the inmates damn near burned the entire place to the ground. They were begging for help. If you were breathing and standing upright, they offered you a job.”
    “So, you worked at the state prison for a while, and then returned to Utah and went to work for the Department of Corrections?” Kate asked.
    “That’s about it. My folks really wanted me to come back, live at home for a while, and finish my degree at the University of Utah. I took them up on everything but the living at home part. I’d been on my own long enough that moving home didn’t hold much appeal. I think they were relieved when I decided to live in Salt Lake City.
    “How about you?”
    “Well, my story is a bit different from yours. I grew up in Spokane, Washington. My mom started out as a dispatcher in the Spokane Police Department when she was twenty. Twenty-seven years later, she had risen from a clerical job to deputy chief of police. I saw her and that’s what I knew I wanted to do. So, it would be fair to say that I knew I wanted to be a cop from the time I was old enough to understand what my mother did for a living. She’s been a great mother and a great role model. At her urging, I set my sights a little higher than the Spokane P.D. I wanted to get into the FBI as a special agent. And unlike you, Sam, my priorities were academics and sports, volleyball mostly. And unlike you, I was the valedictorian of my senior class.”
    “I’m not surprised.”
    “Like you, after high school, I had a number of volleyball scholarship offers to choose from. I selected Washington State University because of its reputation as a place to study criminology. I actually turned down the athletic aid and entered on a Presidential Scholarship instead. I graduated four years later with dual degrees in criminal justice and psychology. Along the way, I played four years on the women’s volleyball team and even managed a couple of years as all-conference honorable mention.”
    “Wow. I’m impressed. That’s still a long way from the Salt Lake City