Sam Kincaid 01 - The Commission

Stoddard.
    “This is what I want. In exchange for my full cooperation, the death penalty is off the table. I want to be placed outside Utah in a federal minimum security institution, and I want you to go on record during my sentencing hearing that I cooperated fully,” said Allred.
    “We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves,” said Stoddard. “Whatever we might decide to offer will be contingent upon how much you know and how fully you cooperate. Everything you’ve demanded is within our power to grant except a guarantee of placement in a minimum security federal prison. If the state agrees to pay to have you confined in a federal prison, the feds decide which one of their institutions you’re assigned to, not us. But until we know more, I won’t promise you anything.”
    “For today, I’m invoking my constitutional right to remain silent and right to counsel. I’ll make no statement until I’ve conferred with Mr. Meadows.”
    “Fair enough,” said Stoddard.
    We released Allred into the custody of Sheriff’s Department deputies, who took him to the Salt Lake County Jail.
    ***
    By the time we returned to the prison, Steve Schumway had been taken into custody without incident. He had invoked his right to remain silent and was demanding an attorney. Ford read a prepared statement to the assembled media, and then provided a photo op of Schumway as he was loaded into a waiting sheriff’s department vehicle for transportation to the Salt Lake County Jail, where he would join Allred.
    Bob Fuller had left the prison earlier in the evening. His whereabouts were unknown. As soon as Schumway was driven away and the news media departed, Sloan pulled Kate and me aside and announced that we were taking a drive to the home of Deputy Warden Fuller. Burnham and Webb followed in Webb’s car.
    Fuller lived in an upscale residential suburb of Salt Lake City. His beautiful home sat high on the east bench, where he had a spectacular view of the entire Salt Lake Valley. On the way there, Sloan reminisced about a long-dormant friendship with Fuller dating back almost twenty years. Sloan recounted years of camping, fly-fishing, and fall hunts that often included their wives.
    “And then his lovely wife, Mary, died rather suddenly of colon cancer. I think it was about the time I became executive director, maybe five years ago. Bob never seemed to be the same after Mary’s death. Over time, we drifted apart and didn’t see much of each other.”
    Sloan didn’t say anything else for several minutes. As I drove, he stared out the window into the empty night, lost in his own thoughts. He finally broke the silence, and in a melancholy tone of voice asked, “I wonder, if I’d paid more attention to our friendship after Mary’s death, if it might’ve kept him out of trouble?” It seemed a rhetorical question that neither Kate nor I tried to answer.
    When we arrived at Fuller’s home, both the interior lights and the front porch light were on. It was almost as though he was expecting us. And maybe he was. Burnham agreed to cover the back of the house while Webb remained in front. Sloan didn’t anticipate problems, but I wasn’t so sure.
    As I followed Sloan up the driveway, I turned to Kate and asked, “You wearing a vest?”
    “Is the Pope Catholic?” she replied. “You’re not, are you?”
    “Yeah, I’ve got one on,” I lied.
    As we reached the front door, I was startled to hear Fuller’s voice over the intercom. “Please come in. I’ve been expecting you. I’m in the study down the hall.”
    I didn’t like the feel of this and neither did Kate. We both unholstered our weapons and held them at our sides. Sloan walked into the living room and started down the dimly lit hallway, seemingly oblivious to the potential danger. Kate and I tagged along close behind.
    Fuller was seated behind a large mahogany desk in a high-backed, black leather chair. The well-appointed office was shrouded in darkness, a small desk lamp providing the only light. Sloan wearily sat down in a chair facing the desk. He looked like a man carrying the burden of the world on his tired shoulders. Kate and I separated, moving along the office wall in opposite directions while trying to remain discreetly in the background. Fuller’s hands were folded and rested on the desk in front of him. Both hands where I could see them made me a tad less anxious. For a moment, neither man spoke. Sloan finally broke the silence.
    “You said you were