One Breath Away: The Hiccup Girl - From Media Darling to Convicted Killer

by M. William Phelps

  There was a brooding look of melancholy on Jenni’s face as she sat in her wheelchair behind the microphone. She’d suffered from Crohn’s disease for a while and had also gotten a spinal infection that had paralyzed her from the waist down. Testifying in court, confined to a wheelchair, was certainly not the situation she had envisioned on this day, but here she was, unenthusiastic or not, ready and willing to answer any questions she could.

  In Trevena’s view, Jenni had changed her story “many times.” This was probably the reason why the state had not called her. But the reality of it was that Jenni Charron had lied—telling that same lie they all told—until she realized the others had come clean.

  Despite her situation and despondent gaze, Jenni was still a very beautiful woman. Her hair was tied tightly back in a ponytail, which flowed around her right shoulder. She wore a modest amount of makeup, which accentuated perfectly her striking facial features.

  The first question Trevena had for Jenni was proffered because of the potential embarrassing and controversial nature of it.

  With the jury out of the room, Trevena asked Jenni about her job at the spa during those weeks when they had all lived together and the crime had occurred.

  In her answer, Jenni beat around the bush—not truly, in Trevena’s opinion, revealing the truth about her work. She called what she did at the time “stress relief.”

  Trevena responded by asking if she meant “manual stimulation”?

  Jenni somewhat agreed.

  The state didn’t quite get what was going on. The judge didn’t, either. It was as if Trevena and Jenni were speaking in a code only they understood.

  So Trevena asked his question again, in a different, more straightforward way: “You committed some sex acts in exchange for money while working at the spa?”

  Again, Jenni answered in circles, saying, “Well, we did holistic therapy, aroma therapy, stress relief, and stuff like . . . I mean, I don’t know exactly. . . .” She stopped herself, clearly unsure how to articulate what she wanted to say.

  “Again, you need to . . . like we said, we have to be perfectly honest.” Trevena paused, and then came out with it: “Did that include, you know, for better or worse, lack of a term, for example, like a hand job?”

  “Well, sometimes. Sometimes it was fetish-based things. Sometimes it was just sitting there talking to someone.”

  “Would they sometimes want to touch you as well?”

  “It depended on the person, or what you were comfortable with, and stuff inside the room.”

  “Understood,” Trevena answered.

  ASA LaBruzzo was still unsure of what Jenni was referring to as a job description and what she actually did for her customers. So he asked a series of questions himself, many of which were even more direct, beginning with, “Miss Charron, did you ever manually masturbate an individual while at the spa?”

  “I—” she started to say as Trevena interrupted.

  “Asked and answered!”

  “I think it was more general than that,” LaBruzzo pleaded to the judge.

  The judge implored Jenni to answer the question.

  After LaBruzzo asked again, Jenni said, “I may have.”

  “‘May have,’ ma’am?” LaBruzzo said.

  “Well, I mean, I had . . . Yeah, I—”

  LaBruzzo was getting impatient: “Okay. Had you ever engaged in other sex acts while at the spa—you personally?”

  “What are we defining ‘sex acts’ as?”

  “Did you ever engage in sexual intercourse?”

  “No. I just did more of the fetish based.”

  “What do you mean ‘fetish based’?”

  “Spanking, domination, submission, role-play.”

  “Everything that you did was consensual, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you ever charged with a crime related to that?”

  “No.”

  Then LaBruzzo brought up a good point when he asked Jenni to talk about what she did outside the spa. Like, for example, had she engaged in the same work outside of that spa?

  “No,” she answered.

  After a lengthy conversation between Trevena, LaBruzzo, and the judge regarding what could and could not be introduced once the jury was brought back in, the judge said, “I will let you ask something briefly about sex at the workplace based on what you put on the record about the condom. It should be brief. It should not be the emphasis.... All witnesses . . . should be treated with dignity.”

  With that, Trevena called who would be his first witness for Jennifer Mee’s defense, giving Jenni Charron a break.

  Dave Wawrzynski walked back into the courtroom. Trevena asked very few questions, as did the ASA. When Wawrzynski was finished, Trevena sat and went through his notes, preparing for his next witness.

  CHAPTER 91

  FOR DEFENSE ATTORNEY John Trevena, a rare practical realist when it came to defending his clients, he kept going back to Jenni Charron, the SPPD’s investigation, and the state going on a head-hunting expedition, targeting his client. The idea that Jenni could have set up the meeting and met Shannon that night herself, and when Laron found out he flew off into a rage and killed the twenty-two-year-old Walmart employee, was not so far-fetched. The idea of an assignation was not absurd or improbable, given the nature of what Jenni did to earn a living at the time. On top of that, it was the only line of defense with any substance for Jennifer Mee that Trevena had at his disposal.

  One of the biggest hurdles Trevena faced with regard to that fight was that when you looked at the statements of Laron, Lamont, and even Jennifer Mee, none of them had involved Jenni planning or executing any part of the crime. If Jenni had been involved on any level, one would think Lamont and Jennifer Mee (especially) would have tossed her under a bus. They hardly knew the woman. There was no loyalty there. In addition, Laron could not have cared too much for Jenni’s feelings if he was sleeping with other women, including Jennifer Mee. Why wouldn’t any of them try pinning part of the crime on her?

  “By her own statements and her own conduct, Jennifer Charron is definitely a part of this,” Trevena explained to me. “For the life of me, I am never going to figure out why she was never charged at least—at least!—with accessory after the fact, which is a very serious felony when the underlying crime is murder.”

  Jenni Charron had no trouble admitting to being an accessory after the fact, in her depositions before trial, to the SPPD, and in interviews with the state. Furthermore, she had cut no deal with the state in exchange for her testimony against Jennifer Mee. She had never been offered immunity, at least on paper, or given any legal protection whatsoever.

  Yet, she was still never charged with a crime.

  “They cut her a [side] deal for some inexplicable reason, to this day I do not understand,” Trevena said.

  Trevena latched onto the idea that when one looked at this case closely, it became clear that yes, what Jenni admitted to was bad enough, but there’s a fundamental belief there for Trevena that she was involved on a more deeper level than she had ever admitted to.

  “Why didn’t the state and investigators say, ‘Huh, maybe she’s a co-conspirator’? Why didn’t they ask themselves that question and dig into it?”

  A scratching-of-the-head moment for Trevena came when Jenni was first brought in to the SPPD for questioning on that day she was picked up while walking with Jennifer Mee. After she said she wanted a lawyer, the SPPD immediately told her, “You don’t need a lawyer.”

  “Then they get her to talk and tell all these different types of stories.... It makes no sense to me,” Trevena lamented.

  * * *

  Jenni was twenty-four years old as she sat nervously awaiting John Trevena’s first question. She expected a hard-hitting interrogation, some sort of accusatory, finger-pointing query that would put her on the defensive right away. The proffer had given Jenni a solid look into where Trevena wanted to take things.

  In his soothing, calm tone
, Trevena started by asking Jenni to go through her vitals: where she lived, her boyfriend at the time of the crime, her roommates.

  Jurors sat composed, closely listening.

  Jenni explained.

  “How long had you known Laron Raiford?”

  “Maybe a couple of months.”

  “And were you dating as a couple?”

  “Yes.”

  “And, in fact, you were carrying his child?”

  “Yes.”

  Then, not wasting much time, Trevena got into it.

  “At the time, you were employed at a spa facility, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “And, as part of that employment, not to offend,” Trevena said, an embarrassed tone in his voice, “but there were sex acts that would be performed by you in exchange for money?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that provided you a pretty decent living, as I understand it?”

  “Yeah,” Jenni said, adding, “What I did there with the whole dominatrix and fetish thing paid extremely well.”

  Jenni wore large loop earrings, which dangled from each ear and nearly touched the top of her shoulders. She stared at Trevena mostly, but every once in a while, Jenni took a hasty glance over at Jennifer Mee. She’d dropped her nerves, and yet it was clear she was uncomfortable sitting and answering questions about a life she had left behind long ago.

  As her testimony continued, Jenni described what happened that night when she got home from a twelve-hour shift (nine to nine) at the spa. She recalled how they had plans to go see a movie, the odd behavior displayed by all three of her roommates, how Jennifer Mee, strangely, was dressed too nicely to go out to the movies.

  Then they moved on to what became a very argumentative subject: Jennifer Mee’s monthly government check of “six hundred seventy-fivish dollars,” by Jenni’s estimate. The question, for one, had to be proffered; but even when the jury was brought back, they talked this issue through so much that one had to guess what the whole point of it was.

  Jennifer Mee was on state assistance. Big deal.

  By the time they were finished, it became clear that Trevena wanted on record that Jennifer had money of her own and didn’t need to rob people in order to survive.

  But then neither did Jenni Charron, who made more than twice as much as Jennifer Mee.

  With that settled, Jenni talked about what time the movie was set to start, telling jurors it was slated for ten o’clock at night.

  Jenni next described how Lamont and Laron took a phone call and they left the apartment shortly after.

  “And Miss Mee, at this point in time, was still in the apartment?” Trevena asked, and then realized maybe he shouldn’t have.

  “No, she had left. She left the apartment first and then called the boys, Lamont and Laron, and they left after getting the phone call from her.”

  And there, in just a few sentences, an image emerged that Trevena didn’t need infused into the minds of jurors: Jennifer Mee leaving, heading out to the location, making contact with Shannon, and then calling in her muscle to roll him.

  “Okay,” Trevena said, trying to pull back, “but you don’t know that was her calling?”

  “Well, when I seen her number, I gave Laron the phone.”

  Jenni had just confirmed that Jennifer Mee left the house with Laron’s phone and then called Laron on her phone. Phone records backed up the calls, and now a witness put people behind the earpiece of each phone.

  Trevena and Jenni discussed whether Jennifer Mee ever mentioned anything about participating in a robbery (before that night).

  Jenni said no, she had not. But later, after the crime had been committed, Jenni, of course, heard all about it from Jennifer.

  Jenni admitted that she’d seen the .38 revolver in possession of both boys. She told that story of Laron and Lamont coming home one night and waving it around outside on the stoop, claiming Lamont’s brother “had got shot at,” so they went out and bought a weapon.

  Trevena took Jenni back to the night in question, October 23, 2010. He asked the witness again about the movie. After that, he had her explain what happened in those minutes after Laron, Lamont, and Jennifer left the apartment.

  Jenni described how, not too long after they had all left, Jennifer came running into the apartment, breathing heavily, saying she had heard gunshots. And Jenni said she immediately went into “rush mode,” trying to locate Laron and Lamont.

  From there, Jenni went through the entire night: collecting as much evidence as she could from the boys; calling her friend and going over to that uptown apartment; discussing what they would say if the cops came around; wanting to go back to the crime scene to fetch all the items they had left behind. She didn’t leave much out and her version came across as sincere and believable. There was an odd likeability about Jenni as she spoke. Her voice was soft and soothing. It sounded pleasant and genuine. While on the stand, she admitted to committing several major felonies herself, without as much as a second thought. These were crimes punishable by serious time in prison. Yet, she laid it all out, unafraid of what perhaps might come of not having secured any deal with the state’s attorney’s office. In total, the story she told Trevena was on par almost identically with what Jenni had told the police after she had admitted her first story—like the others’—was a lie.

  Trevena focused on the conversations they’d had while at Jenni’s friend’s apartment regarding what they were going to tell police. What hurt Jennifer Mee here was that Jenni could only talk in general terms about what was said because all of it, if she were to repeat conversations verbatim, would be considered inadmissible hearsay.

  Still, even as Trevena asked Jenni to talk about it in “subject matter” only, LaBruzzo objected repeatedly, until the judge told Trevena to move on.

  Not getting very far, Trevena asked Jenni if any promises had been made to her while she was at the SPPD answering questions.

  LaBruzzo objected.

  A sidebar conference followed.

  They agreed to another proffer.

  It got them nowhere. With the jury back, Trevena asked a question about Jenni being “persuaded” to give a statement, and she said yes, she might have been.

  Then Trevena asked a few more questions that amounted to details already discussed, and soon he passed the witness to the state.

  * * *

  During the state’s cross-examination, the one item Jenni mentioned was that she had worked twelve-hour days at the spa and paid all the bills at the apartment. The three basically lived off her. The other fact Jenni shared was that she had no idea where the crime scene even was, until she saw it on the news after being “released” from the SPPD.

  When they got to the bleach and who actually poured it on the clothes to wash off any forensic evidence, Jenni could not recall who was responsible.

  “And you’re not telling this jury that you poured bleach in that bathtub on those clothes, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Jennifer [Mee] poured the bleach on the clothes?”

  “I can’t say that for a hundred percent.”

  “Jennifer and Lamont were in the bathroom?” Hunter-Olney asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You smelled a strong odor of bleach coming from that bathroom?”

  “Yes.”

  “So Jennifer or Lamont poured bleach on the clothes?”

  “Laron was in the bathroom at some point, too. I can’t—”

  “But you didn’t pour bleach on the clothes?”

  “No,” Jenni said, then added without being asked: “I may have come up with the idea.”

  The ASA asked Jenni about her relationship with Laron: “And were you in love with Laron?”

  “After a while, yes.”

  “Were you faithful to Laron?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was Laron faithful to you?”

  “No.”

  Trevena objected under relevancy and ASA Hunter-Olney, after a quick conf
erence with LaBruzzo, indicated she was finished.

  CHAPTER 92

  THROUGHOUT THE THREE days she sat and watched her daughter’s trial, Rachel Robidoux was entirely focused on every word each witness had said. Rachel tried desperately to stay in the moment. It was the hardest thing she had ever done, Rachel said later: to sit and watch her child slowly drown and not be able to toss her a life preserver.

  “Totally surreal.”

  During what had amounted to almost three years of pretrial hearings, Rachel explained later, “I never once allowed my mind to think about what could be a life sentence,” a sentence Jennifer faced if the jury decided on a first-degree murder verdict. Rachel tried to keep her mind on “no more than ten to fifteen years, tops,” with the hope that the jury would understand Jennifer’s role and come back with a much lesser charge. It only seemed natural for Rachel to see things this way. How could a jury give life to a girl in Jennifer’s position, someone who clearly had nothing to do with carrying out the murder? In Rachel’s view, her daughter had no more set up Shannon to be murdered than she had known a murder was going to take place.

  As Rachel entered the courtroom each day during trial, she told herself that when the time came for jurors to deliberate, they would sit down and realize what Rachel had seen and heard during the course of the testimony and evidence: Jennifer had committed crimes, certainly, but not this horrible crime she was being tried for.

  As the afternoon session on September 20, 2013, continued, the court was one step closer to that jury verdict Rachel was now thinking about. John Trevena, after the court took a long break for lunch, told the judge he was prepared to rest his case.

  Two witnesses and the defense was done.

  With the defense resting, it was time for Jennifer Mee to stand and answer a few questions from the judge, including, “How far did you go in school?”

  “About tenth grade.”

  “You can read and write, ma’am?”

  “For the most part, yes, ma’am.”

  “Have you had sufficient time to discuss with your lawyer . . . the issue about whether or not you wish to testify?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”