Witness: For the Prosecution of Scott Peterson by Amber Frey

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1 corinthians 10:13, niv
"No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it."

Amber Frey's life was full of blessings: an exciting new business, a beautiful home, and most of all, her infant daughter, Ayiana. But Amber had been through some unhappy relationships, and she longed for a true and loving partner. In November 2002, she went on a blind date with Scott Peterson. He was handsome, charming, thoughtful, and romantic. Best of all, he was single and ready to settle down . . . or so he said.

Their connection was immediate. Over the next few weeks, Amber and Scott grew closer and closer. Scott won her over with his warmth, humor, and intelligence, and he even won the heart of little Ayiana. Before long, he began to speak of the beautiful future the three of them were destined to share as a family.

Soon enough, however, Amber began to suspect that Scott Peterson might not be the man he claimed to be. On December 9, he broke down in tears and told her that he had been married, but had "lost" his wife. This was weeks before Laci Peterson, eight months pregnant at the time, was even reported missing. Scott Peterson hadn't lost her, but clearly he was planning to.

Suddenly a relationship that seemed full of promise was turning into Amber's worst nightmare.

Amber launched an investigation of her own. The moment she was able to confirm her worst suspicions, she contacted the Modesto Police Department, in northern California, and offered to do whatever she could to help. She begansecretly taping her conversations with Scott, pressing him for information but never letting on that she had heard the news of Laci's disappearance. Those conversations became the basis for the prosecution's case against Scott Peterson for the murder of his wife and unborn child.

Amber's whole world was turned upside down in the process. She lost her privacy, as every detail of her life was scrutinized by the media, who couldn't seem to get enough of this tragic, heart-wrenching story. But she soldiered on, looking deep inside herself and drawing strength from her faith.

Witness is the chilling story of how a young woman became ensnared in Scott Peterson's web of lies, then risked everything to seek justice for Laci Peterson and her unborn child, Conner. It is also a story of forgiveness and faith, and of one woman's struggle to live with an open and honest heart.

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Chapter One

"Can I Trust You With My Heart?"

I first met Scott Peterson on November 20, 2002, at the Elephant Bar, in Fresno, California. It was a blind date -- my best friend, Shawn Sibley, had set us up -- and I got there before he did. I took a seat on a bench in the glass-walled foyer, within view of the walkway, and every time someone approached I looked up. 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. At the end of the business day, she and Scott joined a few people for drinks and dinner. At one point he joked about putting the words "Horny Bastard" on his business card, thinking it might help him meet women, but mostly he behaved like a perfect gentleman. By the end of the evening, Shawn had a plan. "There's someone I want you to meet," she said.

"Who?" Scott asked.

"My best friend."

Shawn called me the next day to tell me about Scott and to ask if she could give him my number. I was full of questions. "What did you say about me?" I began.

"That you were beautiful and a good person," Shawn said.

"What was he like? Is he nice? Is he cute?"

"Very cute. And he couldn't be nicer."

"And he's serious?"

"Very. He said he was looking for someone special, and he asked if I knew anyone who was interested in a committed relationship."

"And?"

"And I thought of you, of course."

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. "I'm thin and small-framed, five foot seven and a half, with blond hair."

"Good," he said. "Then it won't be a problem if I walk up to every attractive blond in the place and ask if she's Amber."

Shortly after six on the appointed evening, Shawn came over to stay with my baby daughter, Ayiana. "Just remember that I have to be at work tomorrow morning," Shawn said, only half-joking.

"Don't worry," I said. "I know."

I arrived at the Elephant Bar with time to spare. At exactly four minutes after seven, as I sat waiting for Scott, a man approached and made eye contact. I thought it might be Scott -- he sort of fit the description -- but I had a bad feeling about him. "Please God," I thought, "don't let it be him." I looked away, and -- much to my relief -- he moved through the foyer and disappeared into the restaurant. A moment later, another 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.

"Amber?"

"Scott?" I replied, getting to my feet.

He leaned close and gave me a small peck on the cheek. "Am I late? I'm sorry I'm late."

"Not at all," I said.

The plan had been to meet at seven, in front of the Elephant Bar, and to go to dinner from there, so we left and made our way to the parking lot.

"I was a little nervous about meeting you," Scott said en route, but he didn't look nervous to me. He was smiling, and he seemed somehow relieved. "Can I ask you a favor?" he said.

"What?"

"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. I left my car in the parking lot and we got into his Ford truck and drove to the Radisson in downtown Fresno. When we got there, he began to unload his things. There was a big green lock-box in the cab of his truck, and his luggage was stashed inside. Scott looked at me sheepishly, as if embarrassed. "Look at all this stuff," he said. "I practically live out of my truck."

We went inside and took the elevator to a room on the top floor. Scott put his luggage down and reached into a brown duffel bag and pulled out a bottle of champagne. He smiled, and I found myself thinking he had a very nice smile. He popped the cork and proceeded to pour each of us a glass. Clearly this was a man who planned ahead.

Scott had a sip and turned on the radio and excused himself and went off to take a shower. I nursed my champagne, singing to myself to pass the time.

When Scott emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, he was wearing black slacks and a clean white T-shirt. He went off to get a blue dress shirt and was still buttoning it up when he rejoined me. I was wearing a black skirt and a blue top ...