Authors: M. William Phelps
The flavors she was referring to on this day were Cory Gregory and Sean McKittrick. Adrianne had said how nothing Sarah did (or could do) would ever change the way she and Cory felt about each other. On top of that, Sarah had heard Cory and Adrianne were dating—that Cory had had sex with Adrianne, in fact.
Yeah,
the final journal entry of Sarah’s high-school life read, referencing the note Adrianne had slipped to Cory that morning,
I’ll fucking kill her.
PART III
BODY PARTS
46
The last day of Adrianne Reynolds’s life, Friday, January 21, 2005, began on what appeared to be a note of reconciliation. Getting up and heading off to school, Adrianne was under the impression (soon after walking into the building) that Sarah Kolb wanted to make up and be friends again.
This was a great relief to Adrianne. She had always been willing to forgive and forget. Start anew. No, she and Sarah would probably never be lovers or best friends; but they could get along, wave to each other at parties, and hang with the same people.
Why not?
Adrianne thought.
Bygones be bygones, and all that sentimental nonsense.
At ten thirty that morning, a number of kids known as the Black Hawk “weed group” were out near the student parking lot, smoking cigarettes. Beyond the potheads, one of the kids smoking that morning later told police, “There are two other groups—one being a ‘Goth’ group (meaning the Jugs), and the other being made up of males and females that are gay.”
Cory and Sarah, of course, fit into both cliques. Sarah was outside, standing next to a few girls and
three or four male subjects,
as a report of the morning noted.
“I’m going to hurt that bitch,” Sarah said, looking toward the school, taking an aggressive drag from her cigarette. There was fire in her eyes. Hate in her voice. Determination.
Everyone knew who Sarah was talking about. There was excitement building in the air for a catfight.
Cory walked over. Sean McKittrick was there with another kid, who had several notes in his hand that Adrianne had written to Cory.
Sarah glanced at the notes. “Let me see those . . . ,” she snapped, grabbing at them. “I want you to tear them up! Now!”
“No,” the kid said, pulling the notes away.
Sean came up, grabbed the notes out of the kid’s hand, tore them into pieces, and tossed the handmade confetti into the air.
The reason why Adrianne had not given Cory the notes herself—the kid who had been asked to pass them to Cory later explained—turned out because “Adrianne was afraid of Sarah.” After showing up at school, that tiny bit of optimism Adrianne had when walking in that morning was quickly overshadowed by more threats and name-calling from Sarah.
The bell rang. Cory and Sarah stood in the main hallway, talking. Cory said, “Hey, did I tell you what Adrianne wanted to do the other day with me and [another guy]?”
Sarah looked at him. “What?”
“A train . . . ,” Cory said, knowing the consequences, realizing how much more Sarah would hate Adrianne, and knowing how
enraged
this would make Sarah. “She wanted to run a train with me and [that guy] she is babysitting for tomorrow.”
Cory was, you could say, fueling the situation between Adrianne and Sarah; promoting more trash talk about Adrianne in Sarah’s presence, understanding that it would further trigger a fight between the two girls. It seemed the entire group was hankering for a brawl on this day, even pushing Sarah to make the first move.
Just before classes began after that 10:30
A.M.
break, Adrianne tracked down the kid she had given the notes to.
“I need a ride,” Adrianne said. She didn’t say where.
“Sure,” the kid offered. He had given Adrianne rides in the past.
As class started—and maybe this was part of the plan all along—the kid who was supposed to give Adrianne a ride home raised his hand and told the teacher he didn’t feel good and needed to go home.
Adrianne watched her ride walk out the door.
“I really felt good,” the boy later told police. “But I just didn’t want to give Adrianne a ride and get involved with all that ‘drama.’”
Right.
There was a groundswell of late-morning gossip flowing through the hallways: whispers of a major fight that was going to happen between Adrianne and Sarah. After first thinking she and Sarah could be friends again and resolve things without a blowup, as early afternoon approached, Adrianne understood she was going to have to face Sarah and, possibly, tangle with her. Asking that friend for a ride was Adrianne’s way—one last time—of getting home without any trouble. But now she had no choice but to face Sarah.
Just after the lunch bell rang, Sarah confronted Adrianne in the hallway, forcing her sixteen-year-old rival up against a wall. Sarah was smart not to put her hands on Adrianne, but she was “in her face,” several witnesses reported.
“I am going to fucking
kill
you!” Sarah said, pointing, staring into Adrianne’s eyes.
Adrianne didn’t move. She looked scared.
Several teachers hovered around.
Realizing she couldn’t fight Adrianne inside the school without being expelled (and interrupted), Sarah allowed Adrianne off the wall.
Then, with her head down, changing her demeanor, putting on a show for the teachers, Sarah apologized.
“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean that.”
Adrianne looked at her.
Sarah stared at her foe.
“Really?” Adrianne asked.
“Yeah,” Sarah said.
“Can I get a ride home?” Adrianne asked.
Cory walked up. “Yeah . . . come on, Adrianne,” adding that Sean was going to be going along with them, too.
Adrianne followed Sarah and Cory out to the parking lot. Sean met them at Sarah’s car.
It was just after twelve thirty, Friday afternoon, January 21, 2005, when Sarah Kolb, Adrianne Reynolds, Sean McKittrick, and Cory Gregory drove out of the Black Hawk Outreach parking lot.
“You mind if we stop at the Taco Bell in Moline,” Sarah asked Adrianne, “and get some lunch before we drop you off?”
The plan (or promise) was to drop Adrianne off at her home in East Moline. Taco Bell in Moline was on the way.
“Sure,” Adrianne said.
“Sarah tricked Adrianne into being her friend that day and going with them to Taco Bell,” one of the kids standing in the parking lot, watching Sarah’s beat-up old Prizm rattle out of sight, later said.
From what many on hand that morning later told police, the only person who didn’t think Sarah was “tricking” Adrianne into this ride to Taco Bell, and then home, was Adrianne Reynolds.
47
Sarah pulled into the parking lot of Taco Bell and looked at the line for the drive-through window. Adrianne was under the impression they were going to grab a bite to eat and head to her house.
But there was a long line of cars at the drive-through, so Sarah suggested they park and go inside.
Sarah inched her car into a space close to Twenty-third Avenue. Then she shut the car off.
After taking a breath, Sarah turned and faced Adrianne. Sean and Cory were in the backseat.
“You want to run a train, I hear,” Sarah said.
“What?” Adrianne asked. She could hear that familiar contempt in Sarah’s voice.
“You whore. You fucking like Cory
and
Sean—don’t you?”
Adrianne wasn’t going to back down. She now knew what was going on.
“Yeah. I do! So
what
?”
Adrianne sat in the front seat with Sarah. Cory sat behind Sarah, Sean behind Adrianne. Sean said something, but Sarah stopped him. Then she reached over, grabbed Adrianne by the back of the head, a fist full of hair, and pulled her toward the driver’s side.
“Bitch,” Adrianne managed to say.
“Hey . . . hey,” Sean yelled. “Stop it, Sarah. This isn’t right.”
“Leave us the
fuck
alone!” Sarah screamed. There were cars in the parking lot on both sides of Sarah’s Prizm. The windows, however, fogged up quickly and steamed over because the heater was off and four people were breathing heavily in such a confined space.
“Don’t talk to me,” Sarah continued yelling at Adrianne. “Don’t talk to Cory. And
don’t
fucking talk to Sean!”
“Come on, Sarah, stop this shit,” Sean said. He tried to break it up. “Sarah . . . ,” Sean kept saying. “Stop it. . . .”
Sarah had Adrianne “by the back of the neck” at this point, Sean later said.
“If you don’t fucking like it, Sean,” Sarah screamed, “get out!”
Sean tried to open the door, but it was locked.
“Unlock the door, Sarah, come on,” Sean said. Sarah still had Adrianne by the back of the head. “You all are going to get into trouble for this,” he added, directing his comments now to Cory, too.
“Unlock the fucking door yourself!” Sarah yelled.
Sean fidgeted and got the lock open and jumped out. He was going to walk back to Cory’s house, where he had been staying, but he decided to walk to school, finish the day, and then take the bus to Cory’s.
Adrianne got away and grabbed Sarah by the neck, according to one account Cory Gregory first gave police, before she began choking Sarah, who was now kicking and moving wildly around, like an epileptic in a seizure.
“And then Sarah started choking [Adrianne],” Cory told police. “And they were both struggling to choke each other.”
And this was where things became cloudy. Cory later told NBC that, at this point, Sarah grabbed her stick and started to whack Adrianne with it to stop any momentum Adrianne had gained. Adrianne was winning this fight.
What is clear from the documentation, however, is that the two girls struggled to gain the upper hand on each other, fighting violently and aggressively, as girls often do. They pulled back and forth on each other. Adrianne and Sarah were the same size, height, and weight. It was, if nothing else, a fair fight—that is, without Sarah grabbing her stick or Cory getting involved. Moreover, Adrianne was known to be tough—quite capable of taking care of herself. It’s safe to say that by this time she all but had it with Sarah. Here Adrianne was willing to give Sarah another chance, and now Sarah had gone and lied about giving her a ride home. Her true purpose, Adrianne knew, was to confront her and fight.
Sarah let go of Adrianne’s neck and backhanded her across the face. It was a good shot. Hard and heavy. Lots of power behind it.
The blow knocked Adrianne down onto the floorboard, and she ended up partly underneath the dashboard.
When she came back up, however, Adrianne thumped Sarah good across the nose with a closed fist, busting open a blood vessel.
Sarah’s nose bled profusely, soaking into her shirt.
Sarah later told a friend that she’d once had surgery on her nose, and the fact that Adrianne had busted it open infuriated her. It was then that a fury she could not contain erupted inside Sarah. She had to make Adrianne pay. In her twisted mind, Sarah saw no other option now but to deliver the ultimate punishment.
As Sarah put her hands over her nose, Adrianne, one report claimed, hopped into the backseat with Cory, who wasn’t doing or saying much at this stage of the fight.
“I stared out the window for the most part,” Cory later said, “and smoked a cigarette.”
After getting herself together, Sarah reached into the backseat, grabbed Adrianne, and then pulled her back toward the front. Adrianne kicked violently, in spasms. Her feet pounded on one of the windows, presumably the window opposite Cory’s side of the car. Adrianne was now horizontally across the inside of the car: her head was facing the driver’s-side backseat window, her feet facing the backseat passenger-side window.
Seeing this, Cory told police, as if he couldn’t stop himself because she was there, on his lap, Cory said he grabbed hold of Adrianne’s arms and pinned her down on his lap—essentially helping Sarah. He described this as an impulse, as if he had no other choice.
But, of course, Cory Gregory—if his first version of Adrianne’s murder was correct—had plenty of other choices.
Sarah took Adrianne by the neck and pulled half of her body into the front seat, strangling her, holding her down, that uncontrollable wrath consuming Sarah’s fragile emotions—this while Cory Gregory continued holding Adrianne’s arms and feet down so she couldn’t defend herself.
Adrianne was pinned.
And now struggling to breathe.
Glynn Roach Jr. worked up the road from the Taco Bell at Highland Manor, an apartment complex. Roach had been at the job about a year. Fridays were payday for Roach. He liked to treat himself to lunch.
After cashing his check, he stopped at Taco Bell.
With his lunch in hand, heading back to his car, Roach noticed a fuss of some sort going on inside a red Prizm on the south side of the parking lot, close to where he had parked his car.
“I seen a vehicle with people in it,” Roach later said, “and there was a commotion in the vehicle.”
Roach’s first reaction to this as he walked by the car was
It looks like somebody’s getting beat up.
The vehicle was “moving back and forth like it was rocking,” Roach recalled.
There was another vehicle parked between Roach’s car and the one with the commotion going on inside. Roach couldn’t see because the widows were fogged over. Before getting into his vehicle, however, Roach stopped, walked to the front of his vehicle, looked into the “rocking” red car two spaces over, and figured,
Ah, probably just some teenagers in there fooling around.
A moment later, Roach started his car and drove back to work.
“And then, before—before I knew it,” Cory first told police, “they quit choking each other, and Adrianne was blue.”
Cory said he looked down at Adrianne after Sarah had lifted her hands from around Adrianne’s neck and believed, simply by looking at Adrianne, that Sarah had strangled Adrianne to death.