Kelly Moore’s mother covered her mouth with her palm in distress as her daughter swayed on her feet after swearing in on the Bible. Instead of fainting, Kelly clutched the polished timber of the witness stand. Her knuckles were white as she lowered herself into the chair.
The fragile young woman in the witness box bore almost no resemblance to the vibrant, outgoing girl in the photographs that Rachel had seen in Dan Moore’s office. Her eyes were wide and her face was ashen against the dark fabric of her blouse as she waited for Mitch Alkins to ask his first question.
Alkins’s voice was laced with compassion as he slowly eased Kelly into a series of questions about that night. From her walk back from the party with Harris Wilson, to the stab of fear when she saw a man standing in front of her by the swing in the park that night, to the sheer relief that ran through her when she realized the stranger was the famous Scott Blair.
“I knew who he was,” she said in a soft voice. “I’d never met him before, but we all knew Scott Blair. He’d gone to our high school. I knew that he was a famous swimmer. He was in advertisements and magazines and stuff. Everyone at Lexi’s party was talking about how he’d crashed her party.”
“Did you feel less afraid once you recognized that the stranger was Scott Blair?”
“Yes. A lot less afraid. He was really nice. He apologized for scaring me. He told me that Harris texted him to drop me at home because his parents had caught him sneaking into the house and they wouldn’t let him out again,” she answered.
Kelly described how she walked with Scott to his car. It was a silver sports car with soft leather seats and a new-car smell. He opened the front passenger door for her and made sure she put on her seat belt before he drove off. Kelly told him her address. He said he knew the street, which is why she was surprised when he drove right past it.
“I told him that he’d missed the turn. He said not to worry. That he’d loop around.”
“And did he?” Alkins asked.
“He offered to take me for a drive first. I’d never driven around in a convertible with the top down. I said, ‘Sure.’ We drove along the coast. We were heading home when he suggested we get food,” she said. “He asked me what kind of food I liked. I said pizza. He said he liked pizza, too.”
Alkins showed Kelly the CCTV footage from the pizza place. He asked her why she didn’t alert the staff at the pizza parlor or ask to use their phone to call her parents. “Why did you return with Scott to his car?” Alkins asked.
She told him that she had no concerns about Scott’s behavior at that point. He’d been friendly and attentive. She believed he would take her home right after they’d eaten, just as he’d promised. In the car, he suggested they eat the pizza at the beach. She wasn’t crazy about the idea, but she didn’t want to be difficult, so she agreed. He drove to a beach. Kelly had lost her bearings by then because it was late at night and very dark. She didn’t know where she was, but she knew they weren’t near town because she couldn’t see the bright lights of the marina from the stretch of beach where they sat.
“We ate pizza and listened to waves. Scott brought beer from his car. I drank a bottle,” said Kelly. “He drank two bottles. He said he didn’t have to be up at dawn to train, so he could have fun.”
“What happened when you finished eating the pizza and drinking the beer?”
“Scott told me that I was really beautiful and that he liked me a lot. And then he kissed me.”
“And did you kiss him back?”
“Yeah, I did. We made out a bit. Nothing serious. Just kissing.”
“And then what happened?”
“He put his hands under my top. I pushed them off me and said that I just wanted to kiss.”
“What did he say to that?”
“He said he didn’t bring me out there and buy me pizza and all to get a few kisses. And then he pushed me back on the ground and put his hands inside my clothes. I tried to get out from under him, but he put his weight on me. He was strong. He was kissing me and touching me and grinding into me; I couldn’t move.” Kelly paused to wipe the tears that had collected in her eyes.
“Did you say anything to him?”
“I was shocked by how he went from being nice to being aggressive. I told him I didn’t want to do anything like that. I tried my hardest to get out from under him.”
“And then what happened?”
“He tried to unzip my jeans zipper.” Kelly let out a sob. “I pushed his hand away. He sat on me and restrained my hands. He told me to stop fighting. His voice was mean. Like a snarl. I was afraid of him.”
“What did you do when he did that, Kelly?”
Kelly tried to speak, but each time the sobs overwhelmed her and she wasn’t able to say anything audible.
“Take your time, Kelly,” Alkins said gently as she gulped emotionally, unable to formulate a single sentence.
“I said to him that I wanted to go home and to please let me go home. And I cried. Kind of like I’m crying now. I begged him to take me home,” choked Kelly.
“What was the defendant’s response?”
“He told me that I’d go home when he was ready for me to go home and then he kissed me again, this time with his tongue, and he unzipped my jeans. He was strong. I couldn’t get away. Even if I did, where would I go? It was dark. I had no idea where I was. I didn’t have a phone.” Her shoulders heaved again. Tears streamed down her face.
“Could you have broken free, Kelly?”
“No, he was holding me down while he pulled off my pants Then he pushed his leg between mine.”
“And then what happened, Kelly?”
“He raped me.”
Alkins waited for Kelly to stop crying. The courtroom was silent except for the sound of her wracking sobs. Eventually, the bailiff handed her a glass of water. Kelly sipped the water, dabbed at her eyes, and nodded. Alkins took her through more questions, breaking down the rape into short, graphic details.
“Did you at any point tell him to stop? Or let him know that you didn’t want it?”
“I cried the whole time. He told me to ‘shut up.’ He knew I was crying. When he was finished he sat up and shoved a beer bottle at me. Told me to drink it. That it would make me feel better.”
Kelly said she drank the rest of the beer while he downed a fresh bottle. When they were done drinking, Scott told her that he wanted to go for a swim. “You can’t beat skinny dipping after sex,” he’d told her as he pulled her up from the sand. She swam with him in the cold rough water, terrified that he might drown her to cover up for what he’d done to her.
“When we came back to the beach, he raped me all over again.”
Rachel watched Sophia draw Scott Blair’s handsome face and pursed mouth as he listened to Kelly’s testimony. His face was impassive. His jaw was tight.
“I told him that I was bleeding. I begged him to take me home.”
“What did he say to that, Kelly?” Alkins asked.
“He said something like, ‘Not yet. I’m not done.’”
“Is it at all possible the defendant did not realize that you were not consenting to the sexual intercourse that occurred that night?”
“I told him that I didn’t want to do it. I told him over and over again. I tried to get away. I cried. I begged for him to let me go. He had to know that I didn’t want it.”
“How long did it last?” Alkins asked.
“I lost track of time. After it ended, he made me pose for a photo with him. A selfie. He put his arm around me and said, ‘Smile.’ He showed me the picture. I was naked from the waist up. He had his arms around me to cover my breasts. He texted the photo to someone and put it on Instagram.”
“What did you do?”
“I was so embarrassed,” she said. “I begged him to take it down. He said something like, ‘You’re right. That was a dumb move.’ He took it down, but a couple of his friends had already texted him back emojis like a tongue hanging out of a mouth. One of them asked him whether I was any good. He showed me that text. He wrote back: ‘C minus.’ He showed me that, too.”
“Were you offended that he’d rated you like that?” Alkins asked.
“He’d raped me. I didn’t care about his stupid rating. I was scared that he’d do it again.”
Kelly described how she fell asleep on the sand. She suspected that Scott had put something in her beer, because she was very sleepy. She said she woke briefly to find a musty old shirt tucked over her like a blanket. She didn’t know where the shirt came from, because she said that Scott hadn’t worn a shirt like that. She was grateful for the shirt. It was cold on the beach. Its warmth helped Kelly drift off again.
“It felt is if someone was watching me sleep. I must have been dreaming, because Scott wasn’t there. I woke up to the sound of his car door opening and then slamming closed. I looked up and I saw Scott walk over holding a sports bag. He opened it up and threw out a bar of soap, shampoo, and a towel. He ordered me to wash in the outdoor shower on the beach. And then told me to get dressed.”
“Once you were dressed, what did he do?”