the police, he described the argument as purely verbal. Looking for the truth, the police questioned the Jablin children, who’d been there throughout the confrontation. They agreed with their father, that there’d been no physical violence. On their forms, the police noted that there were no signs of physical abuse.
Still, Piper was adamant that Fred was abusing her, and she told police that Melody Foster “knew what was going on and could verify it.”
Before leaving the Kingsley subdivision, the police took the additional step of driving around the block and knocking on Melody’s door. When they told her why they were there and asked her if she’d ever seen any sign that Fred Jablin was physically abusive with his wife, she answered, “Absolutely not.”
“My impression was that the police thought the same thing I did, that Piper was unstable and making it all up,”
Melody would say years later. “They didn’t believe Fred had done anything to her.”
Increasingly, Melody worried about her back-door neighbor, seeing Piper as wound so tight she could easily snap.
That spring, when Mel asked Piper to help her line a chest with fabric, Piper agreed. But that day at Mel’s house, Piper was anxious, jittery, and tense. As Mel watched her warily, Piper popped two Adderall stimulant pills in her mouth.
Although she had her own prescription for the pills from Dr.
Welton, it appeared those weren’t enough.
“These are Joce’s,” Piper said. “Have you ever tried Adderall? They’re great.”
Having witnessed such chaos in the house, their parents’
marriage imploding before them, the Jablin children must have wondered what would happen next. On January 17, six days after the police were at their door, Jocelyn, by then an eleven-year-old with dark blond hair and glasses, told her therapist that the thing that would make her the saddest was DIE, MY LOVE / 79
if her parents divorced and lived apart. What would make her the happiest, she said, was to have her family remain intact.
“But that’s probably not going to happen,” she admitted.
The next day, Fred wrote Piper an e-mail at 8:43 in the morning. The subject was marked as “Everything.” It was a touching letter, in which he begged to keep their family together. “I realize that you and I are about as angry with each other as possible and that we are both hurting badly. First, despite all that’s happened, I still care very much about you . . . a candle of love still remains burning, although it appears on a trajectory to burn out. Second: I miss you.
Third: It is clear we have both failed one another in many respects . . . I guess I am looking for a miracle . . . You seem to believe in them and have noted that your life has never followed the norm . . . what my heart and soul seem to be telling me (or perhaps what you might consider my angel communicating with me) . . . I feel convinced that we are not working our problems out in the best manner.”
As the letter unfolded, Fred suggested they remain married yet stay in their separate bedrooms while they consult a marriage counselor. In the meantime, he promised to continue to look for a position in Texas. If he didn’t fi nd one, he offered to take a leave of absence from UR in July and move to Texas with Piper and the children, so that she could be closer to her family. “All of this may take some kind of miracle, but miracles do happen, especially if people want them to happen. My heart and soul keep reminding me not to forget this, and I hope yours do as well . . . Love, Fred.”
Whatever his intentions and Piper’s reaction, the relationship continued to falter. Two weeks later, on the eve ning of January 31, the police were called to Hearthglow Lane a second time. This time Fred met them at the door. “My wife’s acting strange, and she’s trying to take my kids away,” he said.
80 / Kathryn Casey
Once inside, the police found Piper agitated, complaining that Fred had the
Still, Piper was adamant that Fred was abusing her, and she told police that Melody Foster “knew what was going on and could verify it.”
Before leaving the Kingsley subdivision, the police took the additional step of driving around the block and knocking on Melody’s door. When they told her why they were there and asked her if she’d ever seen any sign that Fred Jablin was physically abusive with his wife, she answered, “Absolutely not.”
“My impression was that the police thought the same thing I did, that Piper was unstable and making it all up,”
Melody would say years later. “They didn’t believe Fred had done anything to her.”
Increasingly, Melody worried about her back-door neighbor, seeing Piper as wound so tight she could easily snap.
That spring, when Mel asked Piper to help her line a chest with fabric, Piper agreed. But that day at Mel’s house, Piper was anxious, jittery, and tense. As Mel watched her warily, Piper popped two Adderall stimulant pills in her mouth.
Although she had her own prescription for the pills from Dr.
Welton, it appeared those weren’t enough.
“These are Joce’s,” Piper said. “Have you ever tried Adderall? They’re great.”
Having witnessed such chaos in the house, their parents’
marriage imploding before them, the Jablin children must have wondered what would happen next. On January 17, six days after the police were at their door, Jocelyn, by then an eleven-year-old with dark blond hair and glasses, told her therapist that the thing that would make her the saddest was DIE, MY LOVE / 79
if her parents divorced and lived apart. What would make her the happiest, she said, was to have her family remain intact.
“But that’s probably not going to happen,” she admitted.
The next day, Fred wrote Piper an e-mail at 8:43 in the morning. The subject was marked as “Everything.” It was a touching letter, in which he begged to keep their family together. “I realize that you and I are about as angry with each other as possible and that we are both hurting badly. First, despite all that’s happened, I still care very much about you . . . a candle of love still remains burning, although it appears on a trajectory to burn out. Second: I miss you.
Third: It is clear we have both failed one another in many respects . . . I guess I am looking for a miracle . . . You seem to believe in them and have noted that your life has never followed the norm . . . what my heart and soul seem to be telling me (or perhaps what you might consider my angel communicating with me) . . . I feel convinced that we are not working our problems out in the best manner.”
As the letter unfolded, Fred suggested they remain married yet stay in their separate bedrooms while they consult a marriage counselor. In the meantime, he promised to continue to look for a position in Texas. If he didn’t fi nd one, he offered to take a leave of absence from UR in July and move to Texas with Piper and the children, so that she could be closer to her family. “All of this may take some kind of miracle, but miracles do happen, especially if people want them to happen. My heart and soul keep reminding me not to forget this, and I hope yours do as well . . . Love, Fred.”
Whatever his intentions and Piper’s reaction, the relationship continued to falter. Two weeks later, on the eve ning of January 31, the police were called to Hearthglow Lane a second time. This time Fred met them at the door. “My wife’s acting strange, and she’s trying to take my kids away,” he said.
80 / Kathryn Casey
Once inside, the police found Piper agitated, complaining that Fred had the
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