FATAL VOWS: The Tragic Wives of Sergeant Drew Peterson

by JOSEPH HOSEY

  Life on Pheasant Chase Court has also been transformed. A neighbor across the cul-de-sac from Peterson was more galled by the press than by having a suspected killer on the other side of the street. In the midst of the media siege of late 2007, the woman living there barked at reporters to get off her grass. Someone then strung yellow caution tape around her lawn. Long after the television crews, cameramen, reporters and satellite trucks had departed from Pheasant Chase Court, the caution tape remained, warning no one to stay away from the grass.

  The caution tape, the missing-persons signs and fliers, Bychowski’s video cameras, Peterson himself—all were still on Pheasant Chase Court while, down in Joliet, a grand jury continued to investigate the death of Kathleen Savio and the disappearance of Stacy Peterson. Until Drew Peterson was either charged or exonerated, until there was some definitive response from the criminal justice system about his role in the fates of his last two wives, it seemed Pheasant Chase Court and probably all of Bolingbrook would be in limbo.

  Peterson himself would likely welcome a resolution, although, of course, one in his favor. In the months since Stacy’s disappearance, he’s been the subject of stares and dirty looks, of whispers and accusatory murmurs. His friend Steve Carcerano once let me know that it was important for him to accompany Peterson to a bar or restaurant so that he could be “the eyes” in case “somebody tries to stick a knife in Drew’s neck.” Brodsky, too, told me he’d received numerous insulting messages, some of which ended along the lines of “I hope you die.” None of that seemed to dissuade Brodsky from pushing his case into the public eye; nothing appeared to cause him to question why he had taken it on in the first place.

  Peterson wasn’t fazed either. He laughed off the threats as he seemed to laugh off everything, from his wife’s supposed infidelity to the next-door neighbor afraid he would kill her.

  While Peterson and Brodsky still appeared in the news occasionally, at least Pheasant Chase was quiet again. For a time, the Bolingbrook street was like a Midwestern Modesto, California, from five years before. A media horde that would have dwarfed the legion outside Peterson’s home overran the town of Modesto for a possibly more famous Peterson—Scott, whose wife, Laci, also went missing.

  Less than four months after she disappeared, Laci and her unborn baby washed up on the shore of San Francisco Bay. Her husband’s arrest followed in short order. Within two years, Scott Peterson was found guilty and sentenced to die, and Modesto residents could then begin putting the tragic episode behind them.

  Bolingbrook remains without such resolution. No one has been charged in connection with the disappearance of Stacy Peterson or the death of Kathleen Savio. The lack of closure and the unanswered questions are troubling to some, traumatic to others. One day, Drew Peterson—or someone else—will have to tell Lacy and Anthony that their mother is not on vacation and that, in all likelihood, she is not coming back.

  He has already addressed this with the other two children in the house, Thomas, who was fourteen when his mother was last home, and Kristopher, who was thirteen. Peterson says he has spoken with the boys, one of whom is now nearly as old as his stepmother when she was seduced by his father, and that they “know” what happened with Stacy. He has let them in on the fact that she ran off with another man.

  But someone will have to explain to the two boys why their stepmother, who legally adopted them after their real mother suddenly died, never came back for them; why she never bothered to write a postcard or make a telephone call. Someone will have to try to convince them that their new mother fled from her home to indulge herself in an adulterous romance instead of simply divorcing her husband, taking a good portion of his assets in the process, and undoubtedly keeping custody of half, if not all, of the four children. The boys might have questions about this someday.

  And there might be answers to these questions, but they are likely about as plausible as a married mother of four embarking on a ten-month vacation, as her youngest children, sadly, supposedly believe. And as sad as it might be for a two- and three-year-old to grow up without their mom, they at least have lost only one mother. Thomas and Kristopher have lost two.

  In July 2008, Paula Stark and Len Wawczak, married acquaintances of Drew Peterson, revealed to me that they had been recording their conversations with him for nearly seven months, at the behest of the Illinois State Police Department. They claimed that Peterson had made incriminating statements, which were recorded and would be vital to his arrest in connection with the death of Savio and the disappearance of Stacy—an arrest they were convinced would come after their undercover operation was exposed.

  Peterson shut himself off from the media after Stark and Wawczak went public with their story, much like he did in the wake of Stacy’s disappearance. He denied his former friends’ insistence that he’d made damning statements in their presence, but his behavior suggested otherwise. Stark and Wawczak have stood by their story, although whether or not a conviction will result from their actions remains to be seen.

  This book would not have been possible without the vision of my tireless agent, Jason Anthony, now of Lippincott Massie McQuilkin. Jason supported me every step of the way through the research and writing of this book. His unwavering encouragement, hard work and commitment got me to the finish line. I can’t imagine a more dedicated agent. Thank you, Jason.

  Special thanks to Michael Viner, Henrietta Tiefenthaler, Alina Poniewaz and everyone else at Phoenix for welcoming me to my new home. Your commitment to and belief in this book is deeply appreciated.

  I am extremely fortunate to have had the assistance of Mary Jean Babic, formerly of Crest Hill. Mary Jean’s experience as a journalist was invaluable to the writing of this book. Thank you so much for getting on the phone with me all of those midnights and helping me dot my “i’s” and cross my “t’s.” Lou, you can have your wife back now.

  And now that I got all of you out of the way, I want to thank my mother and father, Dorothy and Joe Hosey, for more than I could ever tell them. And to my sister, Sara Hosey, who has always been there: thanks.

  To my girlfriend, Janet Lundquist, I cannot thank you enough for all of your hard work, patience, and kindness, not to mention the typing and tramping through Queen of Heaven cemetery in the rain. You helped me see the light at the end of the tunnel. To my daughter, Gracie Hosey, thanks for sitting in my lap and letting me write when I told you daddy had to work. This book is for you.

  Alex Beck, you have been a good friend for a long time. Thanks for helping me out with this one, too.

  Dan Haar, the metro editor of the Chicago Sun-Times, deserves thanks for keeping me on this story. Without Dan’s commitment to covering the case, there would be no book. James Smith of the Sun-Times is a great designer and a better friend. Thanks for all of your help.

  Dan Rozek, Sun-Times reporter, I am glad I got to meet you while covering this. Thanks for all the advice, conversation, and the cookies.

  Sharon Bychowski helped me understand Stacy Peterson. Her concern for her and determination to not let her missing friend be forgotten is truly admirable. Thank you, Sharon, for helping me bring Stacy’s story to readers. Candace Aikin and Roy Taylor also helped me fill in the blanks.

  I am deeply indebted to the family of Kathleen Savio for their willingness to revisit painful memories in the interest of getting the story right. Anna Marie Doman, Charlie Doman and Melissa Doman: thank you all so much for your time and for your insights.

  Bolingbrook Police Chief Ray McGury—thank you for your time and for your trust.

  To the police and other officials who helped point me in the right direction and shared their knowledge, even when they were forbidden to, I can’t thank you by name, but you know who you are. So thank you. The same goes for the ones from the other side of the law who took the time to explain their view of events. You know who you are as well. I am equally grateful.

  Jody Hotchkiss of Hotchkiss & Associates found a Hollywood home for Fatal Vows. Thank y
ou Helen Verno, Judith Verno and Winifred White Neisser at Columbia TriStar Television for your enthusiasm for the project.

  I am grateful to Chuck Bretz for his legal insights into the case, and Dr. Philip Bonelli and Diane Wetendorf for their psychological ones.

  Bob Darin and Bill Peters, I appreciate your help.

  Finally, I must acknowledge Stacy Peterson and Kathleen Savio. Although you are not here to tell your stories, I hope I have done you justice.