Jane Doe No More (42 page)

It was during Regan’s fifth pretrial hearing that Donna and John showed up in the courtroom for the first time. It was time for Donna, she knew, to face her attacker, her husband’s former best friend. She needed to send Rocky Regan a message that she wasn’t going away. John, too, wanted to face this man who had claimed to be a friend all these years.

It was Monday, April 25, 2005, a typical spring day in New England. John and Donna entered the courthouse at 10:30 a.m. John’s office was only a few blocks away, so Donna had met him there and they walked up together.

“John and I had given it a lot of thought beforehand,” Donna said later. “We both wanted to be there. It was time I faced Rocky.”

John Palomba remained composed. He was ready for this. Those images of finding Rocky and ending his life had somewhat faded. That rage had been, apparently, part of the healing process—although, Donna said later, “John still dreams of killing Rocky nearly every day.”

“I’m kind of looking forward to this,” John told Donna as they walked into the courthouse. “It’s about time to make Rocky squirm.”

After going through security, they waited for Maureen Norris to arrive, sitting on a bench near the courtroom entrance. It was interesting to watch different people walk by, Donna thought, as she interlocked her arm with John’s, holding him close.

Maureen arrived and got busy figuring out which courtroom—there were several—Regan’s pretrial would be held in.

“It’s there,” she said, pointing to a room to the left of where they sat. “Wait here, though, until you guys are called.”

Maureen walked away. As she did, Donna spied a man walking quickly by the front of the courtroom doors. He had just exited from the courtroom on their right.

That’s Rocky, Donna realized. He must have seen them before John and Donna noticed him.

Rocky appeared nervous and anxious to get out of their line of vision. He entered the second courtroom, but within a few minutes came back out, walked quickly to the exit door, and actually left the courthouse.

I think he was scared to death. I had heard he had always been with someone at the other pretrials (wife, sister, friend). This time he was all alone, and I think he freaked out when he saw us.

As they stood waiting, a tall woman with long, straight, strawberry blonde hair walked by. John and Donna didn’t know it then, but she was Hope Seeley, Rocky’s high-powered, high-priced attorney from the office of (Hubert) Santos and Seeley, in Hartford, Connecticut. Santos and Seeley had been the defense attorneys on record for some of Connecticut’s most notorious and famous cases, including the appeal portion for Michael Skakel, who, nearly thirty years after the fact, was convicted in the 1975 murder of Martha Moxley, one of his Greenwich, Connecticut, neighbors.

Seeley recognized Maureen Norris immediately as everyone got situated to go into the courtroom. According to Donna, Seeley “gave John and I the once-over.”

Before they went in, SA John Connelly came out and said hello. “Is there something you wanted to say to the judge, Donna?”

“Sure,” Donna said. “Something along the lines of, ‘Your honor, the reason why my case was solved after over eleven years is because of the actions of the defendant this past summer with regard to another case. I ask that you strongly consider allowing the evidence from each case into the other. It is pertinent and valid information for the juries to hear, and it is important to help establish the character of the defendant.’ ”

“That’s okay to say, but now is not the appropriate time. The judge today is just moving the cases along, and it wouldn’t be the same judge hearing the case.”

Donna understood. She was more or less merely voicing a concern. “What about the DNA?” Donna asked Connelly. There had been some talk of the DNA being tossed out of the case.

Connelly said everything would be done by the book, adding, “But I should tell you that the defense is going to try to get it knocked out just the same. And, although you’re not going to speak today, Donna, I will let the judge know that you are here.”

They walked into the courtroom together. After sitting through a few cases, John and Donna watched as Hope Seeley walked in with Rocky and pointed toward the back of the room, where she wanted him to sit and wait for his case to be called.

After some time, the judge called Rocky’s case.

Neither John nor Donna had seen Rocky in years. As he walked toward the front of the room, Donna noticed how different he looked from the way she remembered him. The all-star wrestler, football player, genuinely healthy-looking man with an always-friendly disposition now had a large bald spot in the back of his graying head, glasses, noticeable weight gain, and a bit of a beer belly. As Rocky walked up to the defendant’s table, he was greeted by Seeley and another of his attorneys, Marty Minnella, who stood and put his arm around Rocky in a gesture that disgusted Donna and John.

The judge asked if everyone had had a chance to review the case thoroughly and if everything was in order.

After the matter of a missing document was settled, the judge said, “I understand that you are trying this case personally, Mr. Connelly, is that right?”

“That is correct,” Connelly said. “Your honor, I mentioned to you before that the victim may have some questions today. I want to let you know that I have spoken with her and answered those questions, so she will not be speaking. But I do want to let you know that she
is
present in the courtroom here today.”

“Thank you,” the judge said. “I am putting this case on the trial list.”

They discussed schedules for a few moments and then the judge dismissed everyone. It was over before it ever got going.

Rocky turned and immediately exited the courtroom in an anxious dash to get away. Donna noticed that his face was “all red.” As he left the room, Donna stood in a stance of “I’m not going away” and stared at him.

Maureen, Donna, and John met outside the courtroom. Maureen said she wanted to introduce Donna to someone.

“John, Donna, this is [the twenty-one-year-old coworker Rocky had attacked].” She stood calmly with her fiancé.

Donna had had no idea the woman had been sitting in the courtroom the entire time. Donna hugged her. “What a pleasure to meet you, finally. Thank you for being so brave. And thank you for coming forward . . . my case was solved because of you! I’m so glad you were able to escape.”

As they talked, John spoke to the young woman’s fiancé; they both agreed that “Rocky is scum.”

“He’ll get his in prison,” the fiancé said.

Walking away from the courthouse, John and Donna talked about how glad they were that they had decided to go. It would be a great help in the healing process.

“We can only pray now,” Donna said to her husband, “that there won’t be any problems with that DNA evidence.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY
-
NINE

A Picture’s Worth . . .

On Thursday, October 20, 2005, Donna called John Connelly. She probably didn’t need to remind the SA that in two days, October 22, it would be the one-year anniversary of Rocky’s arrest.

“Yeah, I know,” Connelly said. He seemed a little frustrated himself by the snail’s pace at which the court case was moving. The court had been pondering a trial date, but nothing had been set.

“Have you heard
anything?
” Donna wondered.

“Have you spoken to Neil recently?”

“No.”

“You should give him a call and tell him that you spoke to me.” There was something in Connelly’s voice; he had information he obviously wanted Neil to share with Donna.

“They’re involved with investigating Mr. Regan,” Connelly said.

Was this a hint? Why wasn’t he forthcoming with the information?

“Has he been involved with something else?” Donna asked anxiously.

“He might have been. Call Neil, Donna.”

Indeed, Neil had something to share. An observant Wal-Mart employee, a man who worked in the film department, had recently called the WPD.

“Rocky had been going in to get film developed,” Neil explained to Donna, “and the employee recognized him from his picture in the paper. The roll of film he brought in to be developed most recently had all sorts of women who didn’t know they were being photographed. They are all pretty women in shorts, short skirts, and tight tops.”

“What?”

“Yeah, apparently, Regan has been averaging two rolls of film per month. They are all pictures of pretty girls who didn’t know they were being photographed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Neil?”

“No, Donna, sorry. Through records we’ve determined that he started going to Wal-Mart about a few months ago to have film developed. Based on the records Wal-Mart keeps, Regan has developed fifteen rolls of film, twelve of which I believe are now in our hands. I need to be careful with this and handle it right.”

“Have you identified any of the women?” Donna asked, wondering deep down if she had been one of Rocky’s photographic targets.

“There is one girl that they have identified that works at one of the banks in Cheshire. She’s been on two rolls. We haven’t said anything to her.” Neil explained that Donna needed to keep this conversation between them. No one could find out about this during the investigation. Then he explained that Rocky had been driving his father’s minivan lately. “And we believe he is driving the van so he can take the photos from the back of the van without anyone noticing.”

Donna was floored by this new revelation. Rocky had never stopped his behavior, and it was possible that his behavior (and his desire to stalk women) was escalating.

“I’m taking my time with this,” Neil said. “We want to see if Rocky’s pattern changes now that the weather is turning colder.”

Donna thought,
He’ll just hang out at a health club where girls wear less clothing!

“Look, Donna, tell John about this, but please, no one else.”

“Yes, yes . . . of course, Neil.”

“We’re working to get a search warrant. I think we will have enough to arrest him on a charge of stalking or something similar.”

This was great news to Donna.

The van that Rocky was driving
was
the perfect vehicle for stalking and photographing women without their knowledge. Borrowed from Rocky’s father, the van would also become the perfect vehicle for something else Rocky had mind—something more evil that he was planning as he packed for a trip to upstate New York.

CHAPTER
THIRTY

Fright Night

Lindsey Ferguson was enjoying the fruits of her hard work during nearly four years of high school in Saratoga Springs, New York. Running was Lindsey’s love and forte. She excelled in both track and cross-country. Heading into the fall of 2005 as a senior, Lindsey was thinking about where she was going to attend college the following year. She was considering a career as a schoolteacher or in some branch of psychology, but like a lot of kids, Lindsey had not yet decided on her major. In the best shape of her life, the blond-haired, blue-eyed student-athlete was being courted by several colleges. The University of Virginia and the University of Michigan, along with Notre Dame and several others, had tried to recruit her. She had her choice, essentially.