| In "Witness For the Prosecution of Scott Peterson," Amber Frey spends many of the 210 pages outlining how she worked with police and how she handled the publicity generated by the December 2002 disappearance of Laci Peterson and the 8-month-old fetus she was carrying. After Laci Peterson disappeared, at a critical point in the investigation Amber Frey stepped forward to deliver a bombshell revelation -- she had been having an affair with Laci's husband, Scott. During his subsequent trial her testimony proved even more explosive. Frey, a massage therapist from Fresno, was a star witness during her six days of testimony in Peterson's six-month trial. "The jury never saw Scott the same way," says Loyola Law School of Law professor Stan Goldman. "Her testimony just haunted the defense until the verdict." Though Frey, 29, has never publicly disclosed her view of Peterson's guilt, now that the trial is over she is once again pulling back the curtain on the case with her book which fills in details about her role in getting her onetime lover convicted of murder. For Frey, who has two children, Ayianna, 3, and Justin, 8 months (the latter with former boyfriend and chiropractor David Markovich, 44), and who still works as a massage therapist in Fresno, Calif., Witness marks an effort to bring closure to this painful chapter and to move forward with her life. Here is her story. |
| ~From the book: WITNESS: For the Prosecution of Scott Peterson by AMBER FREY Dedicated to the Victims of Violence and Their Families |
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| LACI & CONNER Finally.......Justice! |
| ~ I first met Scott Peterson on November 20, 2002, at the Elephant Bar, in Fresno, Calif. It was a blind date -- my best friend, Shawn Sibley, had set us up -- and I got there before he did. I had butterflies in my stomach. I had a feeling my life was about to change. Scott Peterson sounded absolutely perfect. Shawn had met him at a convention in Anaheim. She had been very impressed. Scott was intelligent, good-looking and very funny, and he seemed eager to settle down. "Do you think there's a special person that you're meant to be with forever?" he had asked Shawn. From anyone else, the line may have seemed like a come on, but Scott was different. Shawn had told him that she was in a committed relationship, and he never once made a single flirtatious comment, never once tried to cross the line. By the end of the evening, Shawn had a plan. "There's someone I want you to meet," she said. I didn't hear from Scott for several weeks, and when we finally connected he couldn't have been sweeter. He asked if I was free for dinner the following evening, and we made plans to rendezvous at the Elephant Bar. "How will I recognize you?" I asked. "Well, I'm not very tall," he said. "And I have long, greasy hair and a big, loose belly." "That's good," I joked back. "I'm real tall and I weigh about a hundred and sixty pounds." Really? he asked, laughing. No, not really, I said. Im thin and small-framed, five foot seven and a half, with blond hair. Good, he said. Then it wont be a problem if I walk up to every attractive blond in the place and ask if shes Amber. I arrived at the Elephant Bar with time to spare. A man approached; in my heart I knew and hoped that this was Scott. He was a shade over six feet tall, in good shape, and he was wearing a well-cut suit. He stepped through the glass door and lit up when he saw me. "I've been in this suit all day. Would you mind very much if we went to my hotel so I could check in and shower and change?" I didn't mind. It seemed reasonable. We went inside and took the elevator to a room on the top floor. Scott reached into a brown duffel bag and pulled out a bottle of champagne. He popped the cork and proceeded to pour each of us a glass. Clearly this was a man who planned ahead. When Scott emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, he seemed to remember something. He reached into the duffel bag again and pulled out a box of strawberries, and he dropped one into each of our glasses. **READ BOOK EXCERPT "My champagne-and-strawberries first date with Scott" [Later over dinner at the restaurant,] Scott told me all about himself. He said he was a fertilizer salesman, that his travels took him all over the world -- from Cairo to Paris -- and that he lived alone, in Sacramento, in a big, 1940's single-family home. "I'd love to have pets, but I travel so much it wouldn't be fair to them," he said. As the evening progressed, Scott said that he was looking forward to settling down, but that he hadn't yet found the right person. The way he looked at me when he said that made me feel he might be wondering whether I was that person. As for my personal life, I admitted that I'd had my share of unhappy relationships, but that there was one very bright spot in my life: my daughter Ayianna She was 20 months old that very day. As I listened to him, I grew more and more impressed. I thought, This guy is hard working, ambitious, and he makes a good living. He really has potential. At one point Scott looked at me and asked if I was a smoker. "No," I replied. He leaned over and kissed me. "Oh yeah," he said. "You are definitely not a smoker." **Later, after dinner, they drank and sang "Islands in the Stream" at a karaoke lounge which they closed down together and later returned to his hotel.** I was in no condition to drive home, so I went up to his room. When we stepped inside, he turned and kissed me again, somewhat more passionately this time. "I don't know if I'm ready to be with you," I said, but me resistance soon faded and I ended up spending the night. I liked him. I could see myself for a man like Scott Peterson. **Over the next few weeks Frey saw Peterson several times and found her attachment deepening -- until the first sign of trouble appeared.** On December 6, Shawn was discussing business with a colleague and happened to mention Scott by name. The colleague knew the name: he had once interviewed with Scott for a job. He told Shawn that Scott was married and lived in Modesto. Shawn was sure he was mistaken, that it must be a different Scott Peterson, but he insisted: "I'm telling you, it's the same Scott Peterson. I met the guy." As soon as she got off the phone, Shawn dialed Scott's number and got through and confronted him. "Tell me I didn't set my best friend up on a date with a married man?!" she said. "I just got off the phone with someone who says he knows you. He says you're married and live in Modesto." "That's crazy! It must be another Scott Peterson." "I don't believe you," Shawn said. "I'm going to look into this." Shawn got off the phone and logged onto the Internet. Within minutes, she discovered that Scott was indeed married and that he did live in Modesto. She called him back, very angry now, and told him what she'd learned. Scott didn't answer right away, and a moment later she heard him crying. "Scott? Are you still there? What's going on?" "I'm sorry," he said, still crying. "I'm sorry I lied to you. It's just - I lost my wife. It's been very hard for me. I haven't fully dealt with it yet." Shawn was horrified. She didn't know what to say. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Scott. I had no idea." "Please," Scott said. "I beg you: don't tell Amber. I really care for Amber, and I don't want to screw this up. Let me tell her in person." I didn't know this at the time, of course. Just as I didn't know that two days later, on December 8, Scott was looking through the classifieds for a fishing boat, nor that on the same day he was scouring the Internet for information on currents in the San Francisco Bay. The following day, Scott purchased the fishing boat for fourteen hundred dollars. **That day Peterson came to Frey's home to tearfully confess that he had been lying about not being married.** I didn't see Scott again for several days, and I was feeling confused and a little fearful. He had lied to me, and it was hurtful, but I could understand why he had lied, so I worked at putting it behind me. After all, he was the one who had suffered the unimaginable loss. It was my job to be there for him, and to be as understanding as humanly possible. **Frey invited Peterson to join her at a friend's Christmas party on Dec. 14, where the now-infamous pictures of the couple were snapped. Meanwhile, back in Modesto, Laci attended a Christmas party alone.** It was a wonderful evening. When we returned to my place, Scott and I got careless and were intimate without protection. Scott apologized, and before I knew it we were having our first serious conversation about children. I told him I had tried birth control pills, but that they didn't agree with me. He said that I shouldn't worry and announced that he'd been thinking about having a vasectomy I was pretty surprised by this. "Scott, you're so young. That's a pretty radical decision. Don't you want a child of your own?" "No," he replied. "I don't really feel I need a biological child. Assuming that you and I are together, the one child I could see in my life would be Ayianna, and I would raise her as my own." **Peterson told Frey that over the holidays he would be duck hunting with his father in Maine.** On Christmas morning, I spoke with Scott, but only briefly. He said he was relaxing with his family and had just gone on a hike. He described the Maine countryside, painting a vivid picture of trees heavy with snow. "I need to go now," he said abruptly. "I'll call you later." Scott was never specific about when he would call, and I simply had to accept that. [In fact,] Scott was home on Christmas Day, in Modesto, dealing with his missing wife. Even as we spoke, police were in the Dry Creek area, near his property, searching the park and the surrounding water for his wife, Laci. I didn't know about any of this, of course. I don't even remember seeing any mention of the story on the news. I was busy with family and friends. One would think Scott had plenty to keep him busy too, but here we were on the phone again [Christmas Day,] talking away, and he was his usual charming self. I told him about Ayianna and how much she liked to sing, and I sang one of her favorite songs for him over the phone. It's called "Five Little Ducks Went Out to Play." "I love it," he said when I finished. "The next time I see you, I want that song to be the first thing I hear." **Lingering suspicions spurred Frey to ask a friend, Fresno police officer Richard Byrd, to see what he could find out about her beau. On December 29, five days after Laci was reported missing, Byrd called to break the news to Frey that Peterson, who falsly told her he was in Europe on business, was at the center of the case.** I didn't want to believe it. I closed my eyes and prayed: "Please God, tell me it's not the same Scott Peterson." **But it was, and at Byrd's urging Frey immediately called the Modesto police, who interviewed her and asked her to tape her calls with Peterson** At the stroke of midnight -- this was January 1, 2003 -- I was at Shawn Sibley's house, at a party, trying to keep my mind off Scott, when he called again. Phone in hand, I locked myself in Sawn's bathroom. It was crazy. I was recording the call, and of course I knew he wasn't in Europe. But there was still a part of me that missed him, or missed the person I thought he was. Only two days earlier, I had still been thinking of our future together. **Frey also describes a nightmare she had about a month after meeting Peterson when she began to suspect he was lying to her. She said a man with brown hair tickled her daughter. As he got increasingly rough, she begged him to stop because he was suffocating her. Frey then wrote she saw the face of an unknown woman with a bright smile and curly, brown hair who was laughing. Weeks later, Frey said, she realized the woman in her dream was Laci Peterson.** I know Scott was nervous about all of the press coverage. In our conversations, he would make references to things he'd seen in the local paper -- the migration of the monarch butterflies, say -- to see if I was following the news. I was, of course. But I wasn't going to let him know, which is that it sickened me to see Laci's family on the news, still being supportive of Scott. I knew the truth about him - that he was a world-class liar -- but they didn't know it. And I wasn't at liberty to tell them. **By now, the Laci saga was all over the media. Frey spends dozens of pages rehashing recorded phone calls between her and Scott Peterson that were replayed during the trial.** On January 6, when Scott called, I was sitting in a small room in tthe Modesto police station with Detective Jon Buehler and Sharon Hagan, the profiler. Detective Grogan hovered in the background. I fumbled with the recorder, and I heard Scott say he had something to tell me. "the worst thing in the world." "Okay," I said. I didn't know what he was going to say, but he sounded deeply affected, maybe even genuinely so. "I am so sorry that this has happened," he went on. "And I'm so sorry I'm going to hurt you in this way. I don't want to do this over the phone. I want to be in person to tell you this. Um, I haven't been traveling for the last couple of weeks. I - I have lied to you that I've been traveling." "The girl I'm married to," Scott said, "her name is Laci. She disappeared just before Christmas. For the past two weeks I've been in Modesto with her family and searching for her...." "You've been calling...having conversations with me when all this is happening?" I replied, trying to sound incredulous. None of the police officers could hear Scott's end of the conversation, but they could hear me, and they kept scribbling little notes and setting them in front of me, urging me to ask Scott things that never occurred to me. "Did you have a gun?" "Did you shoot her?" "Where's her body?" "Is she missing because you fell in love with me, Scott?" I couldn't bring myself to ask everything they suggested, but I had plenty to say on my own -- and the pain and anger were real. They got caught up in it too. From time to time I'd look up to find the three of them egging me on wordlessly, cheering with upraised fists and making other gestures of support. **Frey spends much time outlining how she found a lawyer, how she worked with police and how she handled the media. When the media began to get wind of Frey's involvement She decided to come forward at a press conference on Jan. 24, which broke the case open.** After the press conference, Buehler took me aside and told me that three of Laci's friends were there and wanted to talk to me. All three women thanked me. It made me feel like crying. [A few minutes later,] a phone rang. It was Laci's mother, Sharon Rocha. Mrs. Rocha thanked me for coming forward. She said that she would like to meet me at some point , maybe the next day, if I was comfortable with the idea. I told her that I would be honored to meet her and told her I was praying for her and Laci. It was late by this time, and I didn't relish the long trip back to Fresno. One of Laci's friends, Lori Ellsworth, a woman of about my age, invited me to spend the night at her place, and I gratefully accepted. We stayed up late, talking about Laci and Scott and about our own lives. I reiterated that I had never had any idea that Scott was married, and [Lori] said she never doubted it, not even for a moment. "I know he lied to Laci," she said. "I wonder how many other lies he told her during the marriage. That smug bastard." The next morning, Lori took me to meet Laci's mother. Mrs. Rocha was incredibly gracious and clearly in great pain. There were photographs of Laci all over the house and even one of Laci and Scott together, which surprised me, given the circumstances. Mrs. Rocha said she was hoping to fill in some gaps in her own thinking, and wondered if she could ask me a few questions. She asked me when I first met Scott, and she asked me for specific dates. "I'm sorry," she said "I'm not trying to put you on the spot. I'm just trying to get this clear in my own head." From time to time she would refer to her desk calendar, thinking back, trying to make sense of the past few weeks. But of course none of it made sense. I met Laci's sister, and her aunt, and her stepfather, Ron Grantski. They were all incredibly kind to me. "I hand it to you for doing the right thing," Grantski said. Everyone was so supportive and so kind that I began to cry. "I can't believe I'm sitting here with all of you, Laci's friends and family." I said, tears pouring down my face. "I have been so alone and isolated. Thank you for being so understanding." It took a huge weight off my shoulders, just knowing they knew that I wasn't the enemy. But in another way, that visit broke my heart. When I looked into the eyes of the people who knew Laci best, I saw something I didn't want to see: a group of people who des- perately loved Laci, and who were beginning to suspect that she wasn't coming home. **After the press conference with police, Scott continued to call Amber, including multiple efforts to reach her on her birthday, Feb. 10** When Scott and I finally did connect later that afternoon, he told me to go to Valley Children's Hospital and look for a certain streetlamp. There was a purple bush near the base of the lamp, and he had left something for me there. I went. How could I not go? I was curious. I found the streetlamp, and the bush. Tucked deep inside the bush was a paper bag with several items in it. The first was a small silver box with the moon and sun on the lid; there was a silver and amber necklace inside. The box also contained a copy of the Norah Jones CD, Come Away With Me, and a package of "Butterfly" wildflower mix. It was obvious that Scott had put a lot of thought into each choice. There was a note in the box: "These seeds as your life are soon to bloom. Bliss, joy, beauty will spring forth as warmth touches each. Your soil is not a stony place you have tilled good ground. You deserve wonderous ecstasy in all aspects of your life. All these things will be yours soon." I sat in my car in the hospital parking lot with all my lovely gifts, and I cried. **In August, Frey testified against Peterson, and on Nov. 12, he was found guilty in the murders of Laci and Conner. On Dec. 13 the jury recommended that he be sentenced to death. Frey stops short of saying she believes Peterson is guilty. But when the verdicts came, she said she felt relief and that justice was served.** The whole experience was very trying, emotionally. For most people, it was just a story, but to me it was a part of my life, a very painful part. I don't know if I've made my mark on the world, but I'm young, and I have my whole life ahead of me -- and I intend to do my best. I still think about Scott from time to time, of course, and I continue to pray for him. I wonder if he ever thinks about Laci, or about Conner, or about all the people he hurt and left behind. Does he feel remorse? Does he care? Is he capable of caring? **The book features dozens of photographs of Frey, including a glamour shot taken when she was 18 and two dozen black-and-white frames from a modeling shoot in 2000 that show a short-haired Frey in a see-through negligee** BOOK COVER & EDITORIAL Transcribed by LilCaliGirl with Many Thanks HOME INDEX LACI CONNER SCOTT TRIAL VERDICT WIRETAPS WITNESSES |
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| Partially from the 1/10/05 Issue of People Magazine |
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