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13th Juror Podcast
The Prosecution of Scott Peterson
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When Laci Peterson vanished on Christmas Eve 2002, a missing-person search quickly turned into one of the most infamous murder cases in modern history. Prosecutors laid out a case built on lies, timelines, and a secret life they say reveals motive and intent. This is the story the state believes proves Scott Peterson murdered Laci and their unborn son.
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Every once in a while, a case captures the attention of a nation. This case not only drew me in, but also became a part of the foundation of who I am. Lacey Peterson disappeared on my birthday, December 24, 2002. I remember waking up that morning in a small town in Georgia, thousands of miles away from Modesto, California, having no idea that a 27 year old woman I'd never met would vanish and that her story would weave itself into the fabric of my life. In the first few days of Lacey's disappearance, the news moved slowly. It started with the quiet crawl of a headline. A missing pregnant woman, a family pleading for help, and a husband giving a calm interview. But suddenly, the the story was everywhere. And before long, you couldn't turn on a TV without hearing her name. Then came the images that stayed with me. A family Christmas tree still glittering in the corner of the living room. Wrapped gifts that would never be opened. A nursery painted sky blue, waiting for a little boy who would never take his first breath. Lacey's smile beamed in every photo, bright and full of promise. She was an expectant mother excited to meet her son. At the time, the public knew little of what was happening behind the scenes. The fractures in Lacey's marriage, suspicious circumstances around her disappearance, and the secrets that would soon be exposed in national headlines. What I saw was a woman who deserved to come home to a family who was desperately searching for her. By the time Lacey's body was discovered, I had just learned I was pregnant myself. I remember feeling a complicated mix of joy and mourning, knowing that I would get to hold my baby, but Lacey never would. The emotional weight of that moment affected me so deeply that when I gave birth, I felt compelled to honor Lacey by incorporating the name she had chosen for her baby Connor, into my own son's name. This is a story that stirred something in mothers, sparked divisive debates, and two decades later, remains one of the most haunting criminal cases in modern history. Today we start where the story first unfolded in a quiet Southern California town at Christmas time, with a single question that has never stopped echoing. What happened to Lacey Peterson and baby Connor on Christmas Eve of 2002? The prosecution says he planned her murder. The defense says he was planning their future. But it's the jurors who have the final say. This is the 13th juror podcast where we break down real court cases and put you in the juror's seat. Two sides, the same evidence. You decide what to believe. I'm your host, Brandi Churchwell. Today's episode is California vs Scott Peterson. Part 1 the Prosecution Story. Before the nation learned their names, Lacey Denise Peterson and her husband, Scott Peterson, were simply two young people building a life together. Lacey was born and raised in Modesto, California, a warm, familiar place where her family's roots ran deep. Her parents divorced when she was young, so she was raised by her mother, Sharon, and stepfather Ron. Growing up, Lacey was known for her energy, kindness, and above all, her smile. It was bright, warm, and instantly disarming. It lit up her entire face and everyone's around her and reflected exactly who she was. After high school, Lacey left Modesto for California Polytechnic State University in San Luis Obispo. It was in that coastal college town that she met the man who would change her life, Scott Peterson. The two met in 1994, married in August of 1997, and bought a home in Modesto in 2000. Lacey worked as a substitute teacher, and Scott ran a small fertilizer business out of a leased warehouse. By December 2002, Lacey was eight months pregnant with their first child, a boy they planned to name Connor. She decorated the nursery, attended prenatal appointments, and talked excitedly about becoming a mother. She exuded joy during this time, easily seen by a huge smile in every pregnant photo. On Christmas Eve of 2002, the couple planned to celebrate with Lacey's family at Sharon's home. Everyone was looking forward to it, especially that year. Lacey was glowing and just weeks away from giving birth. The night before, on December 23rd, Sharon and Lacey spoke on the phone the way they always did and finalized the Christmas menu, timing, and their plans for the day ahead. Sharon later even told jurors nothing seemed unusual. Lacey sounded happy, ready for Christmas and ready for motherhood. But at 5:15pm the next evening, about an hour before everyone was set to arrive, Sharon and Ron's phone rang. It was Scott asking if Lacey was there. Sharon was confused at first. It made no sense. Lacey was supposed to be with him. Scott said he had been gone most of the day. But when he got home after 4pm Lacey's car was in the driveway. The dog was in the yard with his leash still on. Her purse with her keys and wallet was hanging in the closet. But Lacey was gone. Then he used a word that sent a chill down Sharon's spine. Scott said Lacey was missing. Sharon immediately felt alarmed and told the jury, I knew something was wrong. By 5:30pm Lacey Peterson was officially reported missing. Neighbors, officers and volunteers flooded the streets and the park. Within hours, a life that once looked so promising became the center of one of the most closely watched missing Person cases in America. And a day meant for family and celebration instead became the day Laci Peterson disappeared. Although no suspects were named publicly, detectives were already zeroing in on Scott. That isn't unusual. The spouse is almost always the starting point in missing person cases. Plus, he was the last one to see her alive and the first to discover she was gone. But as they continued to dig, investigators began to feel like things weren't adding up. His timeline felt inconsistent and his demeanor did not match what they expected from a husband whose pregnant wife was missing. The turning point came in January 2003, when a bombshell story broke across every major network. Scott Peterson, the mild mannered, seemingly devoted husband, was having an affair. Overnight, the narrative shifted. Scott became public enemy number one, scrutinized, criticized and watched closely by the public and police alike. Still, many held on to hope that Lacey and baby Connor might be found alive. That hope, however, was shattered in April 2003, when human remains were discovered along the San Francisco Bay. Within days, investigators confirmed what the world had feared. It was Lacey and her unborn son. Days later, Scott Peterson was arrested and charged with two counts of murder, first degree murder for Lacey and second degree murder for baby Conner. For four months, the state laid out its case from the earliest hours of the search through the revelation of the affair to what they described as Scott's strange, calculated behavior. And they insisted that once jurors saw all the evidence, there would only be one conclusion. Scott Peterson was responsible for the deaths of Lacey and Connor, according to the testimony and evidence they presented. This is the prosecution's story. To understand how the case against Scott Peterson began, prosecutors brought jurors back to the morning Lacey was first reported missing. In those earliest hours, it wasn't a homicide investigation. It was a worried family, a confused husband, and a Christmas Eve search that grew more urgent by the minute. Investigators started with the basics. Was there a struggle? Forced entry? Any sign Lacey walked out on her own? Inside the Peterson home, nothing was disturbed. Outside, the search efforts had exploded. Scott told detectives Lacey planned to walk their dog, Mackenzie. That morning, a neighbor reported finding him wandering alone around 10:15am still wearing his leash before returning him to the Peterson's backyard. That detail pointed the officers to East Loloma park, the route Lacey often walked. Volunteers and officers combed every trail near La Loma. K9 units swept the grounds. Police even cleared the entire park so a helicopter equipped with heat sensing infrared technology could scan for the outline of a human body from above. While that aerial search took place, Lacey's family rushed to a print shop and began making flyers, determined to blanket Modesto with her photo. People searched vacant houses, park restrooms, even old mine shafts, but nothing. No scent, trail belongings or footprints which suggested Lacey had ever reached the park at all. And the more investigators looked for signs of an abduction, the more they noticed the absence of something else any evidence that Lacey ever left the house. With no clear trail and no sign of an outside attacker, detectives turned back to the one person who could account for what Laci did that morning, Scott Peterson. Detective Alan Brochini testified that his initial assignment was simple eliminate Scott as a suspect. But within minutes of interviewing him, that goal changed. Instead of eliminating Scott, the details of his story began to pull the investigation toward him. The first thing Brokini noticed was Scott's demeanor. Calm, composed, almost detached. When asked to walk through the day, Scott said Lacey woke up before him, ate cereal and watched the Martha Stewart show. He Woke up around 8am Showered and decided it was too cold to golf, so he went fishing instead. Lacey, he said, planned to mop the floors, walk the dog, grocery shop for Christmas breakfast and bake gingerbread cookies to bring to her mother's that evening. He believed he left the house around 9:30am drove to his warehouse to pick up his boat, then headed to the Berkeley marina. He said he returned home sometime after 4pm Found McKenzie in the yard with his leash still attached, but saw nothing disturbed inside the house. Investigators quickly found several problems with Scott's version of events. At first, Scott was confident in the route Lacey supposedly took with the dog. But soon after, he changed his story and said he actually didn't know which route she used. Then detectives learned something even more concerning. Lacey, who was eight months pregnant, had recently been instructed by her doctor to stop exercising because she was experiencing dizziness and nausea. She had told family members that long walks were making her sick. To detectives, it simply didn't make sense that Lacey would choose Christmas Eve morning, far along in a difficult pregnancy, to take the dog on a long walk. Additionally, Scott said he filled the mop bucket for Lacey because she couldn't lift heavy items and that he saw the same bucket still sitting full when he returned. But investigators learned that the Petersons housekeeper had mopped the floors the day before and that there was no reason for Lacey to mop again unless something needed to be cleaned. Then they noticed a throw rug near the doorway was bunched up and out of place. Why mop a floor and then leave a rug scrunched up right by the entryway? Individually, those details were odd together they felt suspicious. And that's not all. Inside the laundry room, detectives found wet rags laying on top of the washing machine. Inside the machine were Scott's jeans, shirt, and green pullover jacket. Scott told detectives when he got home, he had taken the wet rags out and placed them on top of the washer, not in the dryer, so that he could wash the clothes he had worn that day. In the bedroom, officers observed a laundry hamper nearly full of clothes. Why wash only the ones he was wearing and leave everything else? Scott also told detectives he left home without a jacket. But when police later found a camouflage jacket in his truck, he said he had put it on when it started to rain. The problem? When officers recovered that jacket just hours later, it was completely dry. Detectives were troubled by the sequence of events Scott described when he arrived home to an empty house. He dumped the mop water, took off his clothes, started a load of laundry, grabbed leftover pizza, showered, then checked his messages to see if he could find out where his wife was. All while Lacey's purse with her keys and wallet was still inside the closet and her car was in the driveway. When Brochini asked whether he had searched the house for her, Scott said he called out but heard nothing. To investigators, it was behavior completely at odds with what they expected of a husband who believed his pregnant wife might be in danger. During a walkthrough of the home and vehicles, investigators documented anything seemingly out of place. They found Lacey's phone in her car with a nearly dead battery, a rope in Scott's toolbox, a tarp, boat cover, and patio umbrellas in Scott's truck, bed items he claimed he planned to store at the warehouse, even though he had been there twice that day and didn't unload them. They also found a roll of chicken wire that Scott said he had just purchased, even though it was already unrolled and cut. Detectives then asked Scott to take them to his warehouse. Inside, they discovered a flatbed trailer covered in concrete splatter and debris, including five distinct circular voids that looked to them like impressions left by multiple homemade anchors. Only one anchor was found, though, and it was inside Scott's boat. The odd part, there was no rope in the boat to actually use it. Water had pooled in the bottom of the boat, which confirmed it had been used that day. But no of the fishing equipment, including an unopened pack of lures, appeared to have been used. The contradictions in Scott's story were piling up. The timeline Scott provided had verifiable pieces, like emails he had sent while at the warehouse, a parking ticket he got around 1pm at Berkeley Marina and the 2:16pm voicemail he'd left to Lacey. But his trip still felt off. The weather was gray, cold and windy. Scott drove 90 miles to a marina he had never used. When asked about lures and fishing techniques, his answers were vague and delayed, almost as if he hadn't expected the questions. Computer forensics from Scott's computer revealed searches for sturgeon and striped bass. But a fishing expert told jurors that Scott was in the completely wrong location for sturgeon. He had the wrong bait, the wrong rod strength, and a homemade anchor that couldn't serve the type of fishing he described. To investigators, this didn't resemble a spontaneous Christmas Eve fishing trip. They claimed. It looked like a premeditated alibi. And then, on Christmas Day, Scott asked investigators a question that stopped them in their tracks as they discussed search efforts. He wanted to know whether cadaver dogs would be used just one day after Lacey was reported missing. To the police, that was a startling leap. It was clear they needed to investigate deeper. With the search warrant in hand, investigators returned to the Peterson home on December 27th. And almost immediately, they noticed that things did not match what they had seen just days earlier. The rope in Scott's toolbox was gone. In the backyard shed, officers found the COVID to Scott's boat shoved under a leaf blower and soaked in gasoline. At trial, experts testified that gasoline can make it extremely difficult for scent tracking dogs to follow a human trail. The boat cover also contained small chunks of concrete, and the tarp that had been in Scott's truck bed was now in the backyard. The patio umbrellas Scott claimed he had been meaning to take to the warehouse, which were still in his truck on Christmas Eve, were suddenly in the backyard as well. Inside, investigators were struck by the state of the nursery. Baby Connor's room, carefully prepared for a child due in weeks, was now being used as storage. Office chairs and miscellaneous items were randomly stacked around the room. To detectives, this suggested a startling absence of emotional attachment to the baby, who should have soon been sleeping there, and deepened the investigator's suspicion towards Scott. He did not seem like a man hoping his wife and child would walk back through the door. And what officers uncovered at the warehouse stopped them cold. Inside Scott's boat, tucked beneath the middle seat, were a pair of pliers. Stuck in the teeth of those pliers were two dark strands of hair. The hair was so fine, it almost went unnoticed. And since there was no root attached, traditional DNA testing wasn't Possible, but mitochondrial testing was. Mitochondrial DNA is genetic material passed down through the maternal line, which can link evidence to a family group but cannot identify one specific individual. When the results came back, they showed the hair was consistent with a reference sample from Sharon Rocha, meaning the donor came from Lacey's maternal line. This evidence wasn't definitive, but to investigators, it was an enormous break. For the first time, detectives noted that a piece of physical evidence suggested Lacey or her body may have been inside that boat. And then came the next blow. During earlier searches, officers had collected items Lacey frequently touched like a slipper and her sunglasses case to provide clean scent samples for trailing dogs. On December 28, four days after she disappeared, a scent dog named Trimble was given Lacey's sunglasses case at the Berkeley Marina. Trimble followed the scent along the walkway out onto the dock and then stopped at the edge of the water. They had a hair linked to Lacey's maternal line found inside Scott's boat. An ascent trail leading directly to the bay where Scott had gone fishing the day she disappeared. Together, these pieces formed a devastating picture investigators could no longer ignore. Now, investigators were more convinced than ever that Scott had something to do with Lacey's disappearance. But they still lacked the necessary proof to show what happened. So they kept searching, followed every lead, and waited for a break that would move the case forward. And they didn't have to wait long. On December 30, 2002, a woman called the Modesto police Department and revealed a new another secret Scott Peterson had been hiding. Her name was Amber Frey. Amber frey was a 27 year old massage therapist and single mother living in Madera, California, about an hour southeast of Modesto. She was a single mom with a daughter nearing 2 years old, and was looking for a serious relationship. So when her best friend Sean set her up with a handsome, charming man, Amber was eager to meet him. The man's name? Scott Peterson. The two got to know each other by phone, having flirty, easy conversations. Scott told her he lived in Sacramento, traveled often, and had a condo in San Diego. Scott and Amber were both conventionally attractive people, but when it came time to describe themselves before meeting in real life, they each gave the other a wildly exaggerated, completely opposite description of what they actually looked like. Playful banter that broke the tension and made the prospect of a first meeting feel fun instead of awkward. When they finally met in person, the connection was instant. Scott brought champagne and strawberries to his hotel. They shared them before heading to a Japanese steakhouse for dinner. When they arrived, Scott excused himself. And when he Returned, he told Amber to follow him. He had reserved a private dining room. The space was intimate, with small steps leading to low table, soft lighting, and sliding doors that closed them off from the rest of the world. They stayed and talked for hours, so long that the restaurant eventually shut the lights off around them. Still not ready for the night to end, the two wandered to a karaoke bar next door, where Scott convinced Amber to sing with him. They slow danced and even shared their first kiss. Then Amber went back to Scott's hotel room, not wanting the perfect evening to end. From there, the relationship moved quickly. Scott told Amber he would be in Alaska with his family for Thanksgiving, but that he wanted to see her the moment he returned. They planned a hiking date for December 2nd, and this time, Scott said he wanted to meet Amber's daughter. He packed a picnic, carried the little girl when she got tired, and later sat with Amber on his truck's tailgate, talking under the stars. Once back at Amber's, Scott cooked dinner, and the two decided to save the wine cork, adding their names and the date, and promised future bottles and future memories. He helped Amber pick out a Christmas tree, decorated it with her daughter, and settled into their lives as if he had always been there. Within days, Scott was picking up Amber's daughter from daycare and had a key to her house. Amber felt like her fairy tale was finally unfolding. But just one week later, the first real crack in Scott's facade appeared. On December 9, he called Amber and said he needed to see her urgently. He came to her house, and when Amber opened the door, Scott was in tears. He was shaking, emotional, and said he had lied to her. He told Amber the truth, that he had been married, but he had lost his wife. He told her he was sorry for lying, that it was really painful for him, and that this would be his first holiday season without her. Amber believed him. He looked devastated, and she had no reason to doubt his grief. What Amber didn't know was that Scott Peterson's wife wasn't gone at all. Laci was alive, eight months pregnant and at home, wrapping gifts and preparing for the Christmas they were supposed to spend together. She also didn't know that when Scott called her on Christmas Day, claiming he was in Maine celebrating with family, he was actually in Modesto, at the center of a frantic missing person search. Two days later, a package arrived on Amber's doorstep. Scott had mailed her a Christmas gift, a star theater planetarium meant to echo the night. They laid on his tailgate looking at the stars. Amber had no no idea that at that very same moment, detectives were inside the Peterson home searching for clues about his missing wife. Amber remained in the dark about everything until December 30, when she turned on the news and saw Scott's face. Not as the charming, attentive man she believed she was building a future with, but as the husband of a missing pregnant woman, the very wife he told her he had lost weeks before she disappeared. That brings us back to the phone call that changed the course of the investigation. On December 30, just hours after seeing Scott's face on the news, Amber Frey picked up the phone and called the Modesto police department. She told them she believed she had been dating the husband of the missing woman, Lacey Peterson. Detectives acted immediately. Amber met with investigators, laid out everything she knew, and handed over her calendar, photos, receipts, everything. When police asked whether she would help them, she agreed. This was the moment the investigation shifted from searching for Lacey to unraveling. Scott. With Amber cooperating, detectives moved fast. They placed wiretaps on Scott's phones, subpoenaed his phone records, and sent the Petersons home computer to forensic analysts. They secured a search warrant and began processing the house again, this time through an entirely new lens. At the same time, detectives turned to Amber. She was the only person Scott was speaking to openly. And Scott didn't know she knew anything about Lacey, the lies, or the investigation closing in around him. She allowed them to record her phone calls with Scott, pretended she knew nothing, and acted like the relationship they had built was still real. Scott called her often. He was gentle, affectionate, and repeated the same lies about the life he claimed he was living. In one of the calls jurors heard, Scott told Amber that he is standing in Paris at the base of the Eiffel Tower and describing how magical the night felt. But Scott Peterson was not in Paris. He was at a candlelight vigil for his missing wife. While Lacey's family and community lit candles, prayed, and begged for her safe return, Scott stepped away, dialed his girlfriend, and pretended he was thousands of miles away. To investigators and later to jurors, this call became one of the most haunting pieces of evidence in the entire case. It wasn't just that Scott was lying. It was what he chose to lie about. And when these recorded calls exposed Scott's emotional distance, his calm demeanor, and his plans for a future with Amber, even as the world searched for his pregnant wife. But the recordings were only one part of a widening picture. Once investigators spoke with Amber's friends and forensic analysts returned the results of the Peterson's computer examination, detectives suddenly saw the timeline in an entirely new light. And when the dates were lined up beside Amber's testimony, a chilling picture became clear. Prosecutors walked jurors through it piece by piece. Remember how Scott had originally told Amber he had never been married and had no children? Well, on December 6, one of Amber's friends discovered otherwise and gave Scott an tell Amber the truth by December 9th, or she would. That ultimatum set off a cascade of events. The next day, December 7, Scott searched classified ads for used boats on his computer. December 8, his searches expanded to boat ramps on the Pacific, nautical charts, tidal currents, and maps for the Berkeley marina and San Francisco Bay, specifically the area around Brooks Island. He also visited fishing websites. That same day, he went in person to look at a boat he'd found for sale. On December 9, Scott purchased the boat with cash and didn't register it. He never mentioned the boat to his father, an avid fisherman, his father in law, also a fisherman, or to Greg, a friend he often discussed fishing with. And that same afternoon, he drove to Amber's house in tears and told her he had lost. Lost his wife. Investigators became more convinced than ever that the San Francisco bay wasn't just a detail in his alibi. It was a crime scene. If Scott had taken Lacy out on the bay and placed her body in the water, the tides would carry her in predictable directions. And with the data from his computer in hand, detectives began what would become one of the most extensive water searches in California history. Multiple agencies joined the effort. Specialized dive teams, side scan sonar operators, boats equipped with advanced underwater imaging. Even an underwater device capable of mapping and scanning the bay floor was deployed to search the high probability zone. The area investigators believed matched Scott's movements and tidal flow patterns. For days, searchers combed the water grid by grid. Suspicious sonar shapes were marked, rescanned, analyzed, and logged. Meanwhile, on land, detectives were tracking Scott after obtaining a warrant in January, police installed a surveillance camera outside the Peterson home and placed GPS devices on his vehicles, which included a rotating cast of rental cars Scott picked up for only a few days at a time. These trackers told a revealing story. Scott drove 90 miles from Modesto to the Berkeley Marina at least five times in January, each time using a different vehicle. Each visit was brief, five to ten minutes at most, almost as if he were checking the same location again and again. One trip in particular became pivotal. On January 11, the bay search reached its most intense point yet. 88 members of law enforcement from multiple agencies were on the water after sonar detected a suspicious object beneath the Surface media trucks flooded the marina. News reports speculated that Lacey had finally been found. Hours passed without confirmation. Then Sharon Rocha called Scott and left a voicemail. She had spoken with police at the marina and wanted to update him directly. They hadn't found Lacey. They had found a boat anchor. The wiretap on Scott's phone recorded his line as he called his voicemail to listen. When jurors heard the voicemail in court, they heard Scott exhale, releasing a soft, unmistakable whistle. Prosecutors argued it was the sound of relief. And when Scott returned Sharon's call, he confirmed exactly that. He said it was a relief. Then he added repeatedly that there were 88 officers out there searching the bay, and he hoped they would start focusing somewhere else. But those words weren't what stayed with investigators. It was his lie. Near the end of the call, Sharon asked him where he was. Scott said he was in Bakersfield, three and a half hours south. Detectives knew that wasn't true. The wiretap and GPS tracker showed that Scott wasn't in Bakersfield. He was in the very area where divers and sonar teams were searching for Lacey. To investigators, this was no coincidence. They believed he was monitoring the search, checking to make sure the bay was still keeping his secret. While authorities combed every inch of the bay, Scott had begun making striking changes to his life. On January 13, he abruptly gave 30 days notice to terminate his warehouse lease, even though it wasn't up until October. That same month, he began discussions to sell or rent his home, offering it fully furnished. On January 29, he sold Lacey's car, trading it in for a Dodge Dakota pickup truck. The next day, he stopped home mail delivery and redirected everything to a PO box he had opened on December 23. At the same time, according to prosecutors, Scott showed little interest in any of the tips coming in about possible sightings of Lacey. The wiretap captured Scott taking days to follow up on a potential sighting in Washington, though he told his mother and a business colleague he'd followed up immediately. He even falsely claimed he was waiting near an airport in case he needed to fly there, when in reality, he was nowhere near an airport. To prosecutors, the reason behind his actions was simple. Scott knew none of the sightings were real because he knew Lacey wasn't alive. For nearly four months, investigators searched the San Francisco Bay, convinced that Lacey and Connor were somewhere in the water. And then the very thing detectives feared would Happen did. On April 13, after a powerful storm swept through the Bay Area, a couple walking their dog made a horrifying discovery. The badly Decomposed body of a baby boy washed ashore amongst the storm debris just over a mile from the southern tip of Brooks island, the same area Scott Peterson said he went fishing on Christmas Eve. The next morning brought a second discovery. This time, it was the body of an adult woman found along the shoreline at Point Isabel, about a mile south of where the baby had been located. The remains were battered after months in the water, barnacles clinging to the bone. Duct tape adhered to the surface, but investigators could still see clumps of light colored capri fabric. It matched what Lacey's sister Amy remembered her wearing on December 23, but did not match what Scott told police. He insisted Lacey was wearing black pants the morning she disappeared. Within days, DNA testing confirmed what investigators already knew. The bodies were Lacey Peterson and her unborn son, Connor. The autopsies were devastating. Parts of Lacey's body were missing, something experts attributed to marine activity in the natural forces of the bay. But one detail told jurors something critical. Lacey's uterus was still enlarged. Her birth canal was still closed, and there was no sign of a C section. Lacey died while pregnant. A forensic anthropologist testified that the condition of her remains was consistent with someone who had been in the water for three to six months, which fits the time frame of her Christmas Eve disappearance. Connor's remains were more intact. He still had part of his umbilical cord attached and meconium in his intestines, both signs that he died before birth. Tape was found on his neck, but because there were no associated injuries, the medical examiner concluded it was debris that adhered in the water. More importantly, based on the softness of his tissue, the expert testified that Connor must have remained protected inside, inside Lacey's uterus for some period after she died. If he had been exposed to the bay for long, marine life would have destroyed his remains. Lacey had a prenatal appointment the day before she vanished. Connor measured 32 to 33 weeks. Post mortem measurements put his estimated date of death between December 21 and December 24, with December 23 falling right in the middle. And then came testimony that broke the courtroom. Both the pathologist and Lacy's obstetrician agreed. Based on his size and development, baby Connor would have survived had he been born that day. Within 48 hours of the remains being found, investigators believed they finally had what they needed. The evidence, the timeline, Scott's behavior, the bay searches, the recorded calls, the computer history. Every thread in the case pointed in the same direction. A warrant was issued for Scott Peterson's arrest. Detectives learned Scott was in Southern California. Multiple agencies joined forces to find him. When they located his truck in the San Diego area, his brother was behind the wheel. Scott, however, was driving a maroon Mercedes registered under his mother's name that he had purchased for $3,600 cash. His appearance had changed drastically. His hair was dyed an orange blonde, and he'd grown a full goatee. Even his eyebrows looked lighter. He appeared thinner, and his behavior behind the wheel only heightened police's suspicion. Circling blocks, taking sudden turns, slowing down, speeding up, exiting freeways at the last second. It was classic counter surveillance driving. Fearing he was preparing to flee, investigators made the decision to move in. On April 18, Scott pulled into the parking lot of a golf course in the La Jolla area, and surveillance teams converged. He was taken into custody without incident. Inside the Mercedes, investigators found nearly everything a person needed to disappear. $15,000 in cash, foreign currency, two driver's licenses, his and his brother's, a family member's credit card, camping gear, multiple changes of clothing, and several cell phones. Combined with his altered appearance and evasive driving, prosecutors believed Scott Peterson was preparing to run. But he never got the chance. By the end of the trial, the search that began on Christmas Eve had transformed into something much larger. A timeline of choices, lies, actions, and omissions that the state said revealed the truth about what happened to Lacey and Connor. In closing arguments, prosecutors asked jurors to walk through the story one final time. They began with a video of Lacey early in her pregnancy, happy, glowing, and deeply in love with the man she believed she'd spend her life with. They told jurors that this was the heart of the case. Not just a murder, but a betrayal of the person who trusted Scott Peterson more than anyone else. Then they contrasted that image with another. A photograph of Lacey at a Christmas party, perched alone in the corner, eight months pregnant and trying to rest her swollen feet, smiling, still making the best of things while Scott was hours away with Amber Fry. And then they showed the last image. Her remains washed ashore. The prosecutor told the jury, it's no mystery how we got here. Scott Peterson is the one who brought us to this place. He argued he didn't need to prove the exact minute Lacey died or the exact method. The law only required proof that Scott Peterson killed her. And the state believed the totality of the evidence presented did just that. They reminded jurors that only one person was in the exact place where Lacey and Connor washed ashore during the exact time frame they disappeared. That alone, they said, was proof beyond a reasonable doubt. But There was more. The affair, the lies, the sudden purchase of the boat, the bay surveillance, the homemade anchors, the strange demeanor, the gas soaked tarp, the calls, the voicemails, the shifting stories. The prosecution's theory was this. Scott killed Laci the night of December 23rd or early morning of the 24th. He wrapped her in a tarp and dragged her through the house, leaving the rug bunched up by the door. He placed her in his truck under the patio umbrellas and staged the dog walk scenario. He then transported her to the warehouse, loaded her into his boat and dumped her body in the bay using homemade concrete weights. Then he returned home, washed his clothes, cleaned up, and set the missing person narrative in motion. And his motive, they argued, wasn't simply Amber Fry. She represented freedom from responsibility, fatherhood, marriage, and a life he no longer wanted. Prosecutors argued that Scott wanted freedom from his marriage and fatherhood. So much so that his desire formed the motive that they say led to Lacey's death. The prosecutor said he created a fantasy life in his head and then made it his reality. When the state rested, they left jurors with three images burned into memory. Lacey alive, radiant and full of hope. Lacey waiting, pregnant, smiling through swollen feet at a Christmas party. And Lacey gone. Her remains destroyed by the tides. A trial is never one story. And before the jury could decide Scott Peterson's fate, the defense stepped forward with a very different version of events. They revealed witnesses who they say saw Lacey walking Mackenzie after Scott had already left for the day. They pointed to a burglary across the street that unfolded the same day Lacey vanished. A lead detectives dismissed within hours. And they introduced an expert who testified that Connor may have lived until after Christmas. A timeline that would turn the state's theory completely upside down. Next time on part two, the defense's case, where everything you think you know about this investigation, the gets challenged. Thirteenth Juror is an audio Chuck production hosted by Brandy Churchwell. Ashley Flowers is executive producer. You can follow 13th Juror on Instagram @Thirteenth Juror, a podcast I think Chuck would approve. For decades, some cold cases have been reduced to files in a cabinet. But not anymore. I'm Ashley Flowers and me and my team on the Deck have been traveling across the country to report on these forgotten cases. And in some instances, it's resulted in these cases being solved after decades. Join me every Wednesday as we revive these stories one card at a time. Listen to the deck now. Wherever you get your podcasts.