Posted on 04/27/2003 8:06:16 AM PDT by RGSpincich
Edited on 04/13/2004 1:56:01 AM PDT by Jim Robinson. [history]
It was the home where they planned to raise a family. Now the front lawn is a shrine, where people by the thousands have come to mourn the woman who lived there. It is Scott and Laci Peterson's house at 523 Covena Ave. in Modesto. It is not for sale, but the real estate questions already are flying: Is Scott Peterson allowed to sell it? What is it worth and what could it sell for?
(Excerpt) Read more at modbee.com ...
SP's Life expectancy just wilted.....Assume the position Bi ch...;-0)
Great find...vel. Ya made ma day Luv....;-)
Oh I See....And would you mind telling the STOCKHRSE your whereabouts on or about Dec. 23 2002 From Dusk On please....Get this down on paper ya'll...Just the facts lady.....;-0)
No Rhe...Me thinks ya got the date date mixed up. Scott went fishing(?) on the 24th and thats when SP called the Wards twice....
A lawyers playground. I would imagine Scott's half will go to legal fees.
I am sitting here banging my forehead on the keyboard... WHY they did NOT retreive the remains the FIRST time they found them floors me. I don't CARE how bad the weather was. With the COMPLETE remains there might be a way to determine death (ie. skull or hypiod bone fracture.)
The only excuse could be that they DO have some VERY FACTUAL evidence against SP that ties him to the murder. They do realize that without the head being weighed down by the body it is going to "drift" with every boat, passing tide, etc... and forget about the hypoid bone exam.
Red herring.
MAN OF MANY FACES
By SAM SMITH and HOWARD BREUER --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
April 27, 2003 -- WHEN Scott Peterson met his future mother-in-law for the first time, he turned up with two dozen roses. Twelve red ones for his new girlfriend Laci - and a bouquet of 12 white roses that he presented to her mother, Sharon.
They were suitably impressed, and Sharon would say later that it was at that moment she knew Laci was in love.
Both women, it seemed, had been won over by the charm and confidence of a man who, according to friends, is always cool in a crisis.
It was a trait Peterson first showed as a standout on his school golf team at University HS in San Diego.
"On the golf course, there were guys who would lose their tempers. Not Scott," said former teammate Cort Peters. "He was an easygoing guy."
It was the same determination Peterson used in his business as a fertilizer salesman in the lucrative but intensely competitive agriculture belt of California's San Joaquin Valley. Peterson was very convincing and persistent, his clients say.
Peterson apparently also put on his game face when he cheated on Laci and had an affair with Fresno masseuse Amber Frey, whom he told he was a widower whose wife had died a year earlier.
And now, prosecutors charge, Peterson has lied for far more sinister purposes.
Peterson is accused of killing his 27-year-old pregnant wife, dumping her body in San Francisco Bay and faking grief as he took part in a huge search to find her.
Laci's headless body washed up on the shore almost two weeks ago. The body of her unborn son, Connor, had been found the previous day, several miles away.
Scott Peterson reported his wife missing on Christmas Eve. He said she disappeared while he was alone on a fishing trip.
Investigators say a telephone call that night is a chilling insight into Peterson's steely nerve and well-honed ability to mask his emotions.
With his wife's whereabouts unknown, according to his story to cops, Peterson rang Greg Reed -a friend whose wife was also pregnant - to make plans for New Year's Eve.
Cops suspect the call may have been Scott's first step toward building an alibi.
"He sounded chipper and looking forward to getting together," Reed said last week as he recalled the phone call.
Peterson liked to socialize - evidenced by parties he hosted with Laci and his dates with Amber. But he could also be a distant loner.
The 30-year-old is the youngest in a family of seven kids. From an early age, he showed a passion for fishing.
While the rest of the family went golfing, Scott would wander alone to a lake near the course and stay there all day.
Although he was popular on the golf team, by the time he got to college, Peterson had buried himself in three part-time jobs to help pay for his tuition.
And when he met Laci Rocha while waiting tables at the Pacific Cafe in Morro Bay in 1994, he lured her with an unusual first date - he took her fishing.
Laci was hooked, and three years later they married.
As newlyweds, the young couple bought The Shack, a burger joint in San Luis Obispo, which they turned into a student hotspot.
Eventually tiring of the workload, they sold the place two years later and moved to Modesto to start a family. They rented an apartment before buying a fixer-upper home.
To his friends and family, Scott seemed to be juggling his new life effortlessly, remodeling the house, working a new job and celebrating his wife's first pregnancy.
"I know he put a lot of hours into making that baby room just right," said Guy Miligi, one of Scott's friends. "He was real excited about having his first child."
The truth though, cops say, was that Peterson secretly fostered an affair 100 miles away in Fresno with Frey, 28, whom he had met through a colleague.
For weeks, he led a double life. One night, he would be at home with Laci. The next day, he would head off "on business," which often turned out to be his weekly visits to Amber.
In the days approaching Christmas - when the demands of Laci's advancing pregnancy and Amber's holiday social calendar began to clash - neighbors of the Petersons say they started to notice cracks in the facade of the couple's storybook marriage.
Laci "always carried her own groceries in," recalled neighbor Penny Fleischman. "I never saw him help her."
And Scott grew increasingly intolerant of Laci's cats, another neighbor said. Later, after Laci had disappeared, Peterson was spotted kicking one of them as he returned to the house for the last time.
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