‘My heart went with him.’ Return of Tri-Cities murderer after 25 years inflames family’s grief

All Richard Laws has left of his oldest son are memories.

He looks at Mount Adams and recalls the time he climbed the mountain and sat at the top with his son, Aaron.

The patchwork comforter on his bed is a daily reminder of the present that Aaron gave his mom after traveling to six European countries his junior year as a high school student ambassador.

A paint stain on the floor of his Finley garage takes him back to Aaron’s campaign for student body president at Columbia Basin College.

And every year when Richard’s June 27 birthday rolls around, he doesn’t celebrate another year of his own life but reflects on the end of his son’s.

It was on that date in 1996 that an autopsy was performed on Aaron Laws.

While his father wasn’t there, he vividly imagines his 35-year-old son’s lifeless body on a stainless steel exam table, a doctor trying to determine what caused his death.

Aaron Laws was shot in the chest — a bullet through his heart — by his housemate Scott A. Britton. His Richland home was then set on fire, the flames sweeping through the house designed to cover the killer’s tracks.

The blaze left Aaron Laws’ body so distorted that his own mother, Pat Laws, couldn’t recognize him when asked to make an identity, said his father.

Re-sentencing hearing

On Friday, Richard Laws pointed to a picture of his son and an urn holding Aaron’s ashes as he asked a judge to send Britton back to prison for the maximum sentence possible.

He was joined by his other son, Alan, and Aaron Law’s former wife, Cindi Laws.

“I can’t explain to you the devastation that this murder has caused on my family. I don’t have the words adequately to describe that, but I want you to know that Aaron’s murder destroyed a whole working family,” said Richard Laws.

Next to him stood retired Richland police Capt. Al Wehner, who comforted the father every time it became too difficult to speak about his late son.

“I have a life. I’m standing before you, but it is a life that is only partially normal. I will never have a normal life, I have resigned to that fact.”

‘Three strikes’ law

Britton, now 51, has been serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole since October 1997.

Then 27, he became the first person in the Tri-Cities to be sentenced under Washington’s “three strikes” law.

But those “strikes” for second-degree robbery no longer qualify after a recent change in state law, which the Legislature made retroactive.

So on Friday, Britton found himself back in Benton County Superior Court for re-sentencing on his first-degree murder and first-degree arson convictions.

He was ordered by Judge Alex Ekstrom to serve 45 years and two months.

Britton knew he wasn’t going to go free, facing anywhere from 34 years and three months to 45 years and eight months based on his history.

But he asked for a new sentence at the low end of the range, saying he made a decision nearly 20 years ago to “change everything in my life to be a better human being on a daily basis.”

He talked about what he’s done while in Monroe Correctional Complex, like his work on a mentoring program, and said his actions will never bring back Aaron Laws for his family but can help show the person he is trying to become.

“I don’t know why I did what I did. I still can’t tell you to this day why I took Aaron’s life,” said Britton. “Your honor, there is no apology or words that I can give to the Laws family. ... I know that what I did to Mr. Laws can never be forgiven.”

‘A black cloud’

Britton and his defense team at trial told jurors that Aaron Laws may have been killed by an ex-girlfriend or even shot himself in the chest.

However, Laws’ .44 caliber pistol was later found by detectives in its case in his bedroom closet, the casing from the bullet that killed him also returned to a box of ammunition.

Prosecutor Andy Miller said the murder and aftermath showed a lot of sophistication and planning by Britton, who placed a pillow over Laws’ chest before shooting through it.

That move was likely to muffle the sound, he said.

Miller said it was sad that Aaron’s mom and Richard’s wife, Pat Laws, was not able to be in court for the emotional hearing. But he said he had the honor of staying in contact with grieving mom up until her death.

He read from her original statement to the sentencing judge in 1997 to help Ekstrom get a feel for the murder’s full impact on the Laws family.

“There is no yardstick to measure what I lost. He was my life, my soulmate. Even after he was grown we spent most of our spare time together. His absence makes me feel as if my whole inside is flipped out,” Pat Laws wrote 24 years ago, noting that her son was not able to defend himself, make peace with God or say goodbye to his family before dying.

“A black cloud is pulled over my world as he is my sunshine. ... My heart went with him when he was taken away. Aaron is my first thought every morning and my last thought every night.”

This story was originally published November 14, 2021 at 5:00 AM.