I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit staring at crime scene photos of the Watts family home, coffee in hand, husband Ryan sighing heavily in the background. (“Are you looking at murder houses AGAIN?”) But there’s something about this case that keeps pulling me back like a moth to a particularly disturbing flame.
The Watts family murders aren’t just another true crime story—they’re a masterclass in how the most ordinary-looking homes can hide extraordinary horrors.
The House on Saratoga Trail
The 4,177-square-foot home at 2825 Saratoga Trail looked like every other house in the Frederick, Colorado subdivision—beige exterior, modest landscaping, and about as suspicious as a Golden Girl (which is to say, not at all unless you’re looking at Blanche’s dating history).
But on August 13, 2018, this cookie-cutter suburban dream house became the site of one of America’s most heart-wrenching family annihilations.
What fascinates me most about this case isn’t just the horrific nature of the crimes (though they’re about as disturbing as finding a stranger’s hair in your breakfast), but how the layout of the Watts home might have concealed crucial evidence that investigators initially overlooked.
The Master Bedroom: More Than Just a Crime Scene
The master bedroom—where Chris likely killed Shanann—tells a story that goes beyond the obvious. The bed, meticulously made in police photos, seems almost performative (as subtle as a bloodstain on white carpet).
Chris claimed he strangled Shanann after an argument about separation, but the bedroom’s layout suggests premeditation rather than passion. The confined space between the bed and wall would have limited Shanann’s ability to escape—something that didn’t initially register with investigators focused on Chris’s confession.
The neatly made bed itself might be the biggest red flag. Who makes their bed after committing murder? Someone trying desperately to create normalcy where there is none.
The Girls’ Rooms: The Heartbreaking Empty Spaces
Bella and Celeste’s bedrooms have always gutted me. Their pink and purple decorations, stuffed animals arranged just so—these rooms were designed with love by a mother who had no idea her daughters would never grow up in them.
What’s particularly telling is how these rooms remained untouched after the murders. Chris didn’t disturb them, didn’t take mementos, didn’t seem to process what he’d done to his children at all. The psychological implications here are as chilling as a midnight phone call.
The comprehensive breakdown of the Watts case shows how investigators initially focused on the oil field where the bodies were found rather than the home itself—potentially missing crucial timeline evidence about when and how Chris moved the bodies.
The Basement: Where Digital Secrets Hide
If you’ve fallen down the same research rabbit holes I have (and if you’re reading this, I’m guessing your browser history is as concerning as mine), you’ll know the basement contained Chris’s workout equipment and computer.
That computer—which wasn’t immediately seized—likely contained evidence of his affair with Nichol Kessinger and possibly searches about murder methods. In today’s digital age, our electronic devices often tell more truth than our mouths ever will.
The basement layout provided privacy for these searches—far from Shanann’s eyes and ears. It’s where his double life took root and grew like mold in a forgotten corner.
The Kitchen: Staging Ground for Deception
The kitchen, with its open-concept design visible in numerous family videos, became the backdrop for Chris’s infamous TV plea for his “missing” family’s return. Standing there, surrounded by family photos and children’s artwork, he delivered a performance about as convincing as my attempt to tell Ryan I’m “totally not obsessed with this case.”
What makes this space significant is how it represents the ultimate deception—using the heart of the family home to sell a lie about caring for the very people he’d already murdered.
Modern crime investigation techniques like Retrieval-Augmented Generation could potentially analyze these spaces more effectively today, cross-referencing spatial data with behavioral patterns to identify inconsistencies in suspect statements.
What Your Home Says About Your Crimes
The Watts case teaches us something profoundly disturbing: our homes—those places we consider safe havens—can become both crime scenes and evidence. The layout, the staging, the undisturbed children’s rooms juxtaposed with the meticulously cleaned master bedroom—they all tell a story that Chris’s words tried to contradict.
I’ve spent countless hours mapping the Watts home in my mind (would have survived this crime!), and I’m convinced there are still clues hidden in plain sight, waiting for someone to notice them.
Next time you’re diving into a case file, pay attention to the spaces between the obvious evidence. Sometimes what’s most revealing isn’t what was disturbed—but what wasn’t.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to triple-check my door locks and convince Ryan I’m watching something “normal” tonight. (Spoiler alert: I’m not.)