With his protruding stomach stretching and tightening his gray chief’s shirt, three gold stars perfectly set on each triangle of his collar, Chief Harmon opened by saying that his officers had responded to 511 Seventh Street North, downtown, just after eleven o’clock on the previous Saturday night, October 23, 2010. As those officers arrived, they were under the impression, based on a 911 call dispatch had taken minutes before, that a homeless man was either sleeping or passed out drunk behind a newly renovated vacant residence up for sale.
That “someone” whom the chief mentioned was Shannon Andre Griffin—but Shannon wasn’t sleeping. He was dead. Murdered in cold blood “from multiple gunshot wounds,” the first-responder SPPD officers knew right away from looking at him—fatal wounds that the SPPD believed then to have been “received at that particular location,” the chief added.
As the press conference continued, Chief Harmon said it was “apparent that the weapon was left at the scene and there was some clothes left at the scene . . . and it looked like the possibility that robbery was the motive.”
From the way the chief described the scene and the crime, it felt fairly straightforward and sadly all too common, however disturbing. Somebody surprised Shannon, shot him several times, and took his money and possessions. Though the chief never said anything more regarding how his officers had drawn those conclusions based on what he had described as clothing and a weapon found near the victim, it was clear that the SPPD had additional evidence it was holding back and not releasing publicly at this time.
“What we have since learned is that our victim, Mr. Griffin, had a dialogue with a Jennifer Ann Mee”—he pronounced her name as MAY first, but then corrected himself—“that had started within the last week.”
Jennifer and Shannon, the chief went on, had exchanged several Internet messages during the week of the murder via social networking, each of which precipitated a series of phone calls between them. The chief did not say the SPPD had recovered the phone Jennifer used or a computer and gotten the information from those electronics, but one had to assume they were speaking from a place of authority and investigatory confidence.
And probably the most important statement made at the press conference regarding Jennifer’s arrest came next: “She enticed him to come down and meet with her at this particular address,” the chief stated.
In that one declaration, the SPPD accused Jennifer Mee of luring Shannon Griffin to his death. Shannon, the SPPD gave the impression, believed he was meeting Jennifer for a night out. A simple, innocent date.
Wearing a black tie and black slacks, the chief explained how the exact location where Shannon had been found was a vacant house in a somewhat desolate neighborhood. Jennifer lived with Laron, Lamont, and Jennifer Charron about three hundred feet, or a one-minute walk, from the crime scene, just around the corner on 610 Fifth Avenue. It was fairly clear that Shannon’s killer or killers knew the location well and, perhaps most important, felt comfortable there.
“Mr. Griffin,” the SPPD was now comfortable in saying for the first time, “told his family that he was leaving his house to go meet a female at about ten o’clock [on] that particular night.”
Thus far, what the SPPD was willing to divulge included how Shannon had left his Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Street apartment on a scooter under the impression that he was meeting a girl. Nothing more. The apartment Shannon lived in with Doug Bolden, his older cousin, was in the Pinellas Park area of St. Pete, to the north of where Jennifer and the others lived. It was a straight drive, about six miles or twenty-five minutes south, down Fourth Street, the gorgeous Tampa Bay to your left, the Gulf of Mexico on your right. At that time of the night on a Saturday, Fourth Street would have been bustling with people and vehicles.
“He drove to this location,” the chief said, “and we determined that he was probably met by the female out in front of the residence and they walked in back of the residence, where he was then accosted by two other individuals.” He stopped briefly to look at the paperwork in front of him. Then: “A Laron Raiford and Lamont Newton . . .”
The image everyone saw was Jennifer standing out in front of that house, Lamont and Laron hiding around back. As Shannon pulled up and started chatting with Jennifer, she invited him to follow her, and then out of the shadows came the muscle of the operation. What happened after that, the SPPD was uncomfortable revealing at this point.
“The female—Jennifer Mee—was obviously the setup person in this scenario, probably.” He then mentioned how Shannon “apparently struggled” with his killers. And as the SPPD began to “backtrack” in its investigation and look at some of the telephone calls and e-mails and online chats Shannon had had throughout that week, it was clear as cellophane that three people were involved in Shannon’s murder: Jennifer Mee, Lamont Newton, Laron Raiford. There was “another female,” the chief mentioned here, they were not prepared to identify, who was also involved on some level, but her name would be kept out of any of the SPPD’s reporting “because she is a witness in this case.”
They were talking about Jennifer Charron, Jennifer’s roommate, Laron’s girlfriend.
“We determined that the one female”—Jennifer Charron—“didn’t have anything to do with the case, at this point,” but that Jennifer Mee, Laron and Lamont, by late afternoon on Sunday, “had made several admissions . . . that this was a setup, that this was a robbery, and it was a robbery gone awry.”
The way the SPPD’s case was laid out during this press conference gave everyone the impression that the investigation had been straightforward and clear-cut for these experienced cops: victim, suspects, arrests, admissions.
All within a twenty-four-hour window.
The chief said they would entertain questions now as Major Kovacsev stepped forward to take over.
The first question, focused on a potential serial nature, revolved around “the three”—Jennifer (Mee), Lamont, Laron—and if they had been doing this for a while, or was it their first time?
The major said all three had no criminal records to speak of, and the SPPD believed this was their first foray into setting someone up and robbing him.
“Was Mee aware that someone had been shot during this robbery?” one reporter asked.
“She was aware as it was progressing,” the major explained. “The altercation occurred between the three subjects”—Laron, Lamont, Shannon—“as she was walking away, and she was in the vicinity when the gunshots were fired.”
A vital question came up next: Did Jennifer know “they had a gun”?
“She did,” Major Kovacsev said. “She knew who brought the firearm there and knew the firearm was going to be utilized in the armed robbery.”
The SPPD was “still looking” at the “angle” of how Jennifer might have seduced or lured Shannon to the location. They were conducting an investigation and needed further examination of the electronic evidence before commenting more on that end. Yet Kovacsev gave the impression that Jennifer Mee was the carrot in all of this, dangling there for a week on a long, sexy stick that Shannon Griffin found too appetizing to resist. Whatever Jennifer had said to Shannon—or promised him—in order to get him to that location on that night, the major clarified, it was enough to make Shannon believe he was in for a night of fun and romance with a girl he liked and who was attracted to him.
The topic of drugs came up next and the SPPD indicated there was no evidence whatsoever drugs played any role in the crime.
“The victim in this case had no criminal history whatsoever,” the major said. He was on his way to meet a female for a romantic night out—that was the impression he gave to family members before leaving his house.
“Did Jennifer show any remorse?”
“Ah, she was . . . emotional,” Kovacsev said. He seemed perplexed at how to answer this question. And it was legit. Jennifer Mee was hard to read for those who did not know her. The Tourette’s tics she suffered from gave the impression that she was preoccupied or making fac
es or not really paying attention.
Shannon Griffin was a social introvert, Kovacsev explained. He had been on vacation from his Walmart job. Yet, interestingly enough, “He friended her,” the major explained. (The emphasis is the author’s.) Shannon had actually reached out to Jennifer after finding her in a chatroom online. It wasn’t as though Jennifer went on the Internet and began preying on an unsuspecting, shy man, hoping to find the perfect victim to set up for a robbery.
Or had she?
The chief had something he wanted to add to this thread of meeting people online. He stepped forward, saying he wanted to give parents “out there” a warning, which by itself came across as reasonable and with good merit. Yet, when compiled with the context of Jennifer’s case and the allegations (charges) against her at the time of the press conference, it truly spoke to whatever evidence they had against Jennifer, in that their case must be a strong one: “So, for those out there that are parents or friends or whatever, the message is—‘Be careful who you are having a conversation with online, you just never know.’”
There was a moment of quick, penetrating silence after that comment, until a reporter spoke out and asked, “Who was holding the weapon?”
The chief nodded, smiled coyly, and said, “We’re still working on that.”
The notion was floated next that perhaps Jennifer was being overcharged or maybe she didn’t really know what she was getting involved with, as far as the robbery and murder. Could Lamont and Laron have heard about her meeting/date and piggybacked on it, with the nefarious intention of rolling Shannon, without ever letting her know what they were planning?
It seemed unlikely, really, for the simple fact that Jennifer was dating and living with Lamont, and, according to many of her friends during this period, she loved him. Why would she go and make an online date with another guy?
The chief quickly explained how Jennifer was part of the case. “The two male participants were actually involved in the robbery, but like I said before, the felony murder rule allows for somebody to be charged if they conspired to do that, or were at the actual act when the thing occurs—like she was. She was well aware this was going on, and knew about it. Regardless of who was holding the gun, in the eyes of the law, they all get charged the same.”
The press conference concluded shortly thereafter. There was still work to do, obviously, including the SPPD gaining access to the two computers involved. When the police were asked about this as a final question, the major could not answer with any authority. Thus, the SPPD had not yet concluded its investigation. Most of what they had left to do involved computer forensics, along with who spoke to whom, when, and where. Which led many to believe as the press conference dispersed that it was one thing to prove—and quite easy—that one computer or phone communicated with another on a particular night, what time, and where. Yet, it’s quite another to prove who was actually sitting behind that computer or on the other end of the phone. With three other people in the apartment where Jennifer Mee lived, all of whom had access to the same computer and, arguably, the same phones, one had to assume the SPPD had some fairly strong evidence proving that it was, in fact, Jennifer Mee behind the keys and phone all week long, leading Shannon Griffin on a deadly path toward a date with murder.
CHAPTER 14
RACHEL ROBIDOUX HAD not heard much from her daughter since Jennifer was arrested and charged with felony murder and they had that short, two-minute telephone call. At home with Chris, both of whom were now frantically trying to figure out a way to accept what was happening to their family, Rachel was aghast to learn what had been reported at the press conference by the chief and another cop she believed to be Dave Wawrzynski, the lead detective in Jennifer’s case. Watching that press conference, Rachel could not believe the entire focus of the announcement had pointed at Jennifer.
“Sure, go after Jennifer because she’s the Hiccup Girl!” Rachel said.
To Rachel, the SPPD had put the case into sharp focus: they were aiming to make a strong, big case against Jennifer based on who she was, not what she had or had not done.
“I thought the whole thing was disgusting,” Rachel said later. “Really? They had a press conference only because the case involved Jennifer, period. I listened and thought, ‘They’re going to find her guilty anyway they can.’ So many things didn’t add for me as the so-called ‘evidence’ began to emerge. For one, Shannon Griffin’s cousin [had come out and] said Shannon was going to meet a girl to go on a date. [He said] that he was ‘dressed to the nines and had a grin, ear to ear.’”
This indicated to Rachel something far different from what the SPPD had just announced in their impromptu press conference—and, in Rachel’s opinion, involved the SPPD’s “secret” witness, whom they refused to name: Jennifer Charron.
When she heard that Detective Dave Wawrzynski was the lead in the murder of Shannon Griffin, Rachel recognized Wawrzynski’s name as a cop she’d not only heard of, but had some personal interaction with in the past.
“When Jennifer went missing,” Chris Robidoux said.
Detective Dave Wawrzynski had been involved in helping to find Jennifer in 2007 when Jennifer walked out of the house and, after a visit to the local park, disappeared. Apparently, scared of the future and what was happening to her, Jennifer left the house one night and never returned. She was fifteen then. She’d taken off without telling anyone. She wanted to be alone and try to figure out where her life was headed. Rachel and Chris knew she had probably gone down to the park to sit with friends and hang out. It was unlike Jennifer to take off on her own without telling anyone, and certainly unlike her, back then, not to come home. So when she left in a huff that early evening with Ashley, Rachel and Chris considered that she and Ashley would go to the park, Jennifer would blow off some steam, and then she’d return with Ashley some time later. Jennifer still might not be over her little fit, but she would begin to accept that Rachel and Chris were her parents and wanted what was best.
Ashley came home some hours later, but she was alone.
“Where’s Jennifer?” Rachel and Chris asked.
“I saw her at the park,” Ashley said, referring to the Roberts Recreation Center, not too far away from where they were living at the time. “That was the last time I heard from her.”
Chris had called Ashley on her cell phone while she was at the park that evening and asked where Jennifer was.
“Did you see her?” Rachel wanted to know.
“Yeah. I told her dad wanted her home after he called me.”
It was Sunday night, June 17, 2007. Instead of doing what she was told, however, Jennifer took off and started walking, eventually making it to Bartlett Park, a little over four miles away, a ninety-minute walk.
They figured Jennifer would come home late that night, as she always had in the past when she got angry and needed to be alone.
Nearly eleven hours had gone by and Rachel, worried sick that next morning after not hearing from Jennifer at all throughout the night, decided to call the SPPD.
It was now Monday, June 18.
“My daughter’s run away. I don’t know why,” Rachel explained. She phoned the cops as the rest of the family quickly went into action, making flyers and calling as many of Jennifer’s friends as they could to see if she was hiding out or if anyone had heard from her. Chris had Jennifer’s phone turned back on—he’d taken it away recently and canceled it, which had started the entire tiff among Rachel, Chris, and Jennifer—just in case she wanted to call home. But when Chris called Jennifer’s number after having the phone company turn it back on, the phone rang inside Jennifer’s drawer.
Chris took the phone and scrolled through Jennifer’s numbers, calling anyone he could, focusing on those numbers neither he nor Rachel recognized. Since Jennifer had become internationally known as the Hiccup Girl back in January of that year (2007), she had strangers coming up to her and asking for autographs and noticing her wherever she went. On top of that, people were someh
ow finding her phone number and calling Jennifer at random.
“Strangers!” Chris said later. “I didn’t want her talking to strangers on her phone.” When he found that out and thought about it, combined with some other things Jennifer was involved in, Chris decided she didn’t need a cell phone anymore.
One thing Rachel noticed after chatting with police that morning was that Jennifer had left behind her purse, too. This was alarming in and of itself.
Why would she not take her purse? Rachel wondered, growing more concerned by the minute.
Then, picking up Jennifer’s phone, staring at it, Rachel knew: She’s mad. She’s pissed off at us.
Jennifer had become angry with her mother and Chris over the decision to turn off her cell phone, the one salvation in Jennifer’s life she could turn to and rely on for comfort at the time. Her phone was a direct connection to her friends and a social media life she had created and was becoming more deeply immersed in every day. More than those strangers calling and Jennifer talking to them, however, Chris had searched Jennifer’s social media pages and found some rather disturbing conversations between her and several people, including much older males. All of it put together scared Rachel and Chris.
“There are a lot of parents that trust their kids,” Chris said. “I wouldn’t recommend it. I found so many accounts of highly explicit conversations on her social media pages.”
Chris was worried Jennifer was getting involved with things that she didn’t understand. Jennifer was someone that gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. She never judged people on race, class, social status, or education. Jennifer treated everyone equally. In a lot of ways, Chris knew, she was naïve and had a hard time protecting herself from herself.
One Breath Away Page 5