Chapter 4: Motives and Motions

4

Natalie’s parents pressured me every day to hand the case over to the DA’s office as soon as possible—they couldn’t bear to see their daughter’s killer live another day.

But I still had many doubts about this case.

First was Frank Watson’s motive.

The dismemberment cases I’d seen before were mostly impulsive killings, where the perpetrator, in a panic, tried to destroy evidence. Such cases were haphazard and full of loopholes—relatively easy to solve.

But Frank Watson’s actions were calculated. He disposed of the body with chilling precision. His motive was clearly not fear.

Yet neither money nor lust made sense. If he needed money, he could have kidnapped her for ransom—no need to kill. If it was just to satisfy desire, and he wasn’t afraid of the death penalty, what difference would a few years in prison make?

After thinking it over, the only reasonable motive I could come up with was hatred.

I privately investigated the backgrounds of Frank Watson and Natalie’s parents. They were from completely different worlds. I couldn’t find any connection between the two families.

The truth could probably only come from Frank Watson or Natalie’s parents themselves.

But Frank Watson remained silent, and Natalie’s parents were unwilling to tell the truth.

I decided to bluff them.

I told Natalie’s parents, “The DA’s office has sent the case back, saying the motive is insufficient and more evidence is needed. This process could drag on for a year.”

Mr. Jensen couldn’t accept this and lashed out at me: “Frank Watson is just a lunatic! Do lunatics need a motive to kill? Maybe killing is as meaningless to him as eating or drinking!”

I reminded Mr. Jensen that if Frank Watson was deemed insane, he wouldn’t be held criminally responsible. If I wrote that in my report, Frank Watson might be released soon.

“Please think carefully. Have you really never met Frank Watson? Not even once?”

Mrs. Jensen pressed her lips together, her eyes suddenly widening. “Could this Frank Watson be...”

Mr. Jensen looked puzzled, but Mrs. Jensen quickly made a strange gesture—she gripped something with both hands and swung it forward.

Mr. Jensen’s eyes instantly widened.

He turned and jabbed his finger into my chest, threatening, “Listen to me, I have plenty of friends who are leaders in law enforcement and the courts. You’d better make Frank Watson disappear for me, or I’ll have you fired on the spot!”

I felt the threat like a slap, but I just nodded, eyes narrowed. Small-town power plays were nothing new, but this was raw, unfiltered desperation.