Everything that you read here is true, I have not embellished on this at all. If you read it, it happened. A couple of names have been changed however.
Aug 6th 2006
I think we all know that MySpace is pretty transparent. The nightly news blares stories of abductions, of adults pretending to be children, of boys pretending to be girls, of old men pretending to be young men and girls pretending to be honest. It's all here for us to play with, for us to enjoy with our coffee in the morning, or with our wine at night. Each of us has a fascination with the people-catalog and are apart of it for different reasons. None of them are necessarily wrong, but none of them are really right either. Some would say any time spent here is unhealthy and others say anything in moderation is fine. So where do you fall? Too many MySpace people, not enough real people, or just enough of both to keep you busy and happy? Keeping your finances and emotions safe? I bet you are not.
The one thing we all believe we have in common is intelligence and the ability to sniff out lies and deceptions given enough time. We all feel we are careful, and having a friend or family member telling us to be careful does not help at all. "You be careful on that MySpace thing, I have heard stories" Your mom or roommate might say. 'Yeah right. Careful, sure thing mom. Thanks, but I'm fine.' Well are you? Are you fine? You might be, but if you aren't I can guarantee you that you don't know you aren't.
About 4 months ago a female friend on my friends list named Kim was contacted by a 30 year old woman named Rhonda from ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />..:NAMESPACE PREFIX = ST1 />West Virginia.
They communicated via MySpace a bit like we all do and left little comments like we all do nothing out of the ordinary at all. She learned that Rhonda was a Marketing Director for the Red Cross who traveled about 200 days a year for work and liked MySpace because it offered her something to do while on the road. A chance to meet new people, some eventually in person, some just to be pen pals. But it gave her a line of communication to the world that was consistent wherever she went. Same people, same friendly comments, lots of emails, and lots of people with whom to stay on the phone with. My friend found her to be very interesting and impressive. Beautiful, educated, simple and working an amazing job. Well who wouldn't be impressed, she was an impressive woman.
She described her job as one where she was to go around the country and entertain benefactors to the Red Cross and basically help them get into the Red Cross system of donating large sums of money. She would only work with those donating One Million dollars and up, and as a result of working with this type of client she was often invited to go to some of the greatest functions held by the wealthiest benefactors in the country. House parties on Malibu, the super bowl party held annually by Playboy basketball superstar's house and the list went on and on. She was able to associate on her own with athletes, movie stars, and everyone who was anyone in her spare time. They all loved her, hell even their mothers loved her. It was her job and she did it well. Her other function was to act in times of crises, like disasters, as a liaison between the National Guard and the Media. She would be flown to Sedona for the wildfires or New Orleans for the hurricane or to Pennsylvania for the flooding. Each place was a hotel or in some cases 'camps' where they all just made do living together to get the job done. The summer was her slow time for disasters, no hurricanes, so that was her time to stay in her home and take conference calls, and even take time to teach dance. Salsa and ballet were her specialty.
She had another side profession and that was as a consultant for a couple of energy companies, who were heavily involved with mining on the east coast.
She was called there to help them communicate better with the media. Was there to teach the people who would be in charge of leaking news about a mining disaster for example to the news. They set up mock drills with real actors playing people trapped, wounded and dead, had other actors playing the various media outlets and then watched the mayhem and observed both how well the disaster teams worked but also how well the media relations did.
For example in the last mining accident you might remember, the media was told that everyone was fine just about an hour before they realized that everyone but one guy was dead. Definitely a mistake. This was how she described her function. To help prevent that kind of thing from happening.
She invited me to her private page after seeing me on my friend Kim's page and began writing letters to me. Nice, long well thought out letters. Made some comments on my pictures that were very nice and other friendly comments on my page and also my blog. We became pen pals. The distance between us was too far to think of anything else.
Our letters continued and I enjoyed every one from her. They were long, well thought out letters. Each one taking, I am sure, at least an hour to write. Pages sometimes. Everything about her, her family, work, where she was at, and what she thought about me. I did the same. Wrote long letters that were very affectionate and informative about me, my work, my family and history and my choices in recreation. Eventually these turned into phone calls and I was just as happy to hear that my new friend was an excellent speaker. We talked often and for hours at a time. There were many occasions where we would start a conversation at 9pm and finish around 1 to 2am. Really fascinating conversations about her work, her goals, my work, and my goals.
I learned that she had 13 brothers and sisters of which she and her twin brother were the youngest. The oldest was 62, Brice I think his name was, and the oldest sister was Bekha at 45. I learned of their families, their kids, their marriages good and bad. I learned about their professions and successes. I saw photos of nieces and nephews, I saw photos of her eighty year old mother and her father who just past away. I saw many photos of her twin brother Rodney whom she just adored and as you could see on MySpace adored her as well. Rodney is a hulk of a guy at six foot six and very attractive. Not that I notice things like that but hey I can call a rock a rock. Genetically superior was how I referred to her and her family. All of them tall, good looking and for the most part successful. It sounded like they all really loved each other a lot, had a great family relationship and loved to get together to BBQ and watch Alabama football. "Go 'Bama" was their family motto.
About two months later she and I made plans to meet when I returned form a business trip. She was scheduled to land in later the same day for Red Cross work so finally our schedules were colliding. It was going to work out great. I would stay at the airport or go home and come back, either way it didn't matter I would pick her up and take her to her hotel and then out for dinner. I could not wait. We spoke late Friday night as she was out with one of her friends going out for a night on the town in NY. I heard them laughing and having a great time poking each other then giggling. Clearly they were a bit drunk already and she was just checking in with me. I let her go and told her to have fun.
I did not hear from her on Saturday at all, she did not call back or text back when I tried to reach her, and not having her Itinerary I was anxious to talk. I did not hear from her on Sunday either. Even after I landed back home in Seattle I still had not heard from her. So I texted again, a bit firmer saying hey I need to know what is up. Then I finally received a response. It said "I am sorry, but she is in the hospital. I assume you are one of her colleagues so contact the office and they will let you know what to do." HUH? I quickly wrote back and said, no this was her friend David in Seattle and I was expecting to meet her is she ok? The response came in about 15 minutes later and said 'Oh I am sorry David; this is Rho's sister Bekha. I did not know who you were, or your relationship with Rho but Heather filled me in. She went on to say that she couldn't talk then but would call me within an hour to catch me up. Ok, so now I was confused and worried. Who wouldn't be?
I picked up my car from the airport parking lot and drove home. I finally got a call about forty five minutes later; I pulled my car over so I could concentrate. The voice on the other end was fairly calm and very professional and sounded just like someone who would have been one of Rhonda's older sisters. Same cute accent and similar way of speaking, just less flowery and affectionate. I had been told in the past that Bekha was a Psychologist. Bekha then told me that Rhonda was in very bad shape. She and her friend Breedan, a childhood friend who was with her in New York had been abducted at gunpoint by three men after they left the National Guard base. The men had followed them in their car and began flashing their lights and honking their horn at them. Not knowing who it was, and thinking it might have been the guy they just left at the base, Rhonda pulled her car over. Three men got out of the car and pointed a gun at Rhonda. Two got in the backseat and held Breedan, while the third drove their own car. They were taken to an abandon building somewhere in the city and Rhonda was taken out and gang raped. Breedan was forced to watch the whole thing.
One of her attackers seemed to be just a sadist and had no intention of raping her at all. He just wanted to hurt her, and badly. He kicked her in the head numerous times, kicked her in the belly stomped on her and finally took out a knife and began cutting her face, slicing it up.
One cut from one side of her lip to the other, another from the soft lobe of her ear across her cheek to her smile lines by her mouth. Another above her right eye, and the last below her left one. Each cut went clear to the bone. She had been sliced to pieces.
Raped, tortured and mutilated.
One of the rapists had apparently not agreed with torture and yelled 'Enough! She has had enough'. And when it was over he helped her back to her car. As he put her in the drivers' seat he whispered "I'm sorry". Even a rapist has a line that can be crossed.
She was found driving erratically by the police and pulled over thinking she was a drunk. Once they found her she was nearly unconscious, bleeding profusely and barely clothed. She was rushed to emergency. At the NY General hospital the staff brought out the rape kit in the emergency room, the Day-after pill and STD tests. She was questioned and humiliated beyond words. It was all necessary but she told me how some of the questioners insinuated that she was at fault in some way, maybe her clothes or whatever. Her injuries totaled 5 broken ribs, 3 on one side, 2 on another, her right leg broken in 3 places, her clavicle fractured, massive swelling in the head, and some abdominal injuries. Her face was sutured up, and her broken body was cast and set. A minor brain surgery was required to relieve pressure in her head which went well the rest just had to heal.
I was able to speak with her about 4 hours later after hearing the news. Drugs had been keeping her unconscious until that point. We spoke and she sounded terrible. Very drugged up, very hard to understand, and a bit loopy. Her voice was soft, tired and raspy. She managed to talk to me for about fifteen minutes before falling back into a nightmare filled sleep.
I was horrified by all of this. Shocked to my core and absolutely sick by it. I cried; yes let me admit I cried for her. I sobbed. I felt horrible, wanted to help, wanted to be there but she had already said that she would not let anyone see her in the condition she was in. Her mental state was too fragile, she was too ashamed, and she looked like hell. Worse than hell. I knew that her sister was there with her, her mother was flying in and would be there the next day followed by other sisters shortly. She was well supported.
So I stepped in to a role of being a supportive friend. Trying to talk about things with her to help her pass the time, help her stay awake when she did not want to sleep. Help her keep the nightmares away. She would give me little details from time to time, but always switched back to asking about me. 'Tell me something funny" she would say. So I would relate some part of my day that was funny. Tell her something interesting about my day, or my work or kids.
Eventually after about a week in the hospital she was released but still badly beaten and went home to her house in West Virginia. This was the house she bought, to be used as an investment, while a four year relationship with a celebrity marathon runner. She bought it as an investment while living with him, then when she broke up with him she moved into the house to use as a home base.
Because of her job she could live anywhere that was near an airport so this was as good as any.
With her came her mother, and two sisters who stayed about a week. She talked to me when she had alone time, and would tell me how great they were and that they were just driving her crazy. She loved them of course for what they did, but needed her space too. They were over loving her.
She would laugh more freely now, joked more often and was able to talk about the details a bit more. Told me that the men were captured, and that two of them were National Guardsmen. One was a civilian. Told me that she was called back to NY to ID them. She was to meet at the police station a nineteen year old girl who had been attacked by these same men just three
weeks earlier. We spoke nearly every day. Sometimes more than once each
day.
At last they all left to return to their lives seeing that Rhonda was physically healing and the mental damage would have to come sooner or later but there was no pushing it. I remember her first night alone. She was terrified. Every little bump, every little creak made her jump. She was so afraid of her big house she could hardly stand it. Where she used to find solace in the quiet and creaks, now she found fear. Her imagination and her nerves were on overload. I kept her company one night till I could not talk anymore, I just couldn't. I almost fell asleep right in the middle of a conversation it went on so long.
More days went by and she began working from home. Taking calls again, being included on conference calls with her Washington DC office and being asked when she would be ready to get back to the cities, for work. Seattle, San Francisco, and Houston all had to be visited. She let me know that on her Seattle visit we would finally meet and I was quite excited. This was supposed to happen in about a week or two; the details had not yet been set.
One day I decided to send flowers on a whim. She received them on a Thursday and called me the following morning to thank me. Orchids, her favorite. We talked a bit about her day and she asked if she could excuse herself because I could hear her other phone ringing and it was her office calling. She had two phones going a lot, and I often was put down so she could take a call from someone else. I would listen in to who she was talking to and hear what she had to say. Often it would be her brother Rodney, other times, Russ, or Stan, and once her ex boyfriend Josh. Josh still loved her and wanted her back and I heard a conversation between them once. She had told him she was talking with me, and used my name, and had to go, but he kept pulling her back into the conversation not letting her go. She would laugh and say "Ok I have to go now" and then giggle and keep talking. Finally I heard her say "I know you do" then "No, nothing has changed" then finally "Ok let's talk later." Then we finished our talk.
Clearly he had said I love you to her and she had been firm with him. Wow, she was direct, I liked that.
So the office needed her, it was the middle of the afternoon at this point and she said she would call back later. About two or three hours later I get a call from her phone. I was at home just enjoying the day. I had the French doors open to the deck, my dog running in and out and it was about eighty degrees outside. Life was perfect. On the phone, I quickly realize was a hysterical girl sobbing barely able to speak on the other end. What's wrong I yell? "This is Heather" She said.
Rhonda's sister. "Rhonda had to go to the emergency room sob, sob...and didn't make it." That sentence took a full minute to get out of her through the tears and sobbing. "What?!!" She didn't make it? Huh? And she repeated it. Said she saw my number on here and after calling her family had called me. But she couldn't talk much longer, she just couldn't handle it. Ok I said. Where can I reach you? At Rhonda's house, we are all going to be there later she said. I began freaking out at this point. No more asking if I could come down, I was going to go down. I booked a ticket right then and there, with a week set as the length of stay. I did not know how long it would be for the services so I planned more time and knew that I could change it either way if I had to for fifty bucks. I didn't care how long it took; I just had to be there, to meet her family that I had heard so much about. To talk in person with the sisters I had talked with on the phone.
I began calling her house, trying to get someone to answer to help me make some of the arrangements, I had her home address so I really didn't need anything but wanted to connect with them in some way. No one answered so I left several distraught messages with my phone number. "Someone please call me back"
Then I got the single strangest call I have ever received in my life. It was from her friend Stan. I had heard of him as he was on her MySpace page, left her comments all the time and she spoke of him often. Said they used to date but now were just friends. He was choked up and stern when he spoke. He said though tears "I am here, and no one, including her wants you to come.
Stay away. She never liked you, told you to leave her alone and you are not wanted here. Besides I am her fiancé. We were scheduled to wed in six months."
The thing that was even more odd and confusing was that the night before Rhonda had called me while out to dinner with Stan. Had said all sorts of affectionate things to me with him right there at the table. She even tried to get him to talk with me by holding out the phone and telling him to say hi, but he wouldn't. I heard him there, knew that he had heard her mention my name several times. Knew that he had heard her laugh and say things like 'I miss you', and 'I can't wait to see you'.
I kept trying to stop him. I wanted him to know who I was, that he clearly had me mistaken with someone else. That there was no way Rhonda could be engaged. She and I had talked for months, had become very close and I had not heard anything about this. But he kept insisting through tears that I not come down. Told me that I had to respect the fact that he had just lost his fiancé and leave them alone. That neither he nor the family wanted me there. So I started grasping at straws.
I still felt that there had to be a mix up. "But you were there last night at the Italian restaurant right?" "Yes" He said. "You heard how she talked to me, you were there!" "No He said. I was out with her sister"
Now my head was beginning to swim, I was going under quickly. What, her sister?! No, that can't be, I talked to Rhonda last night, I know it. Not her sister. I tried to tell him that, but he insisted he ate dinner with her sister and then told me to leave them alone. I stopped him and said that I had just spoken to her that morning trying to get credibility with this guy who did not believe anything I was saying. He said No, that's impossible. She has been in the hospital since last night.
Now I am a very stable fellow. Pretty slow emotions, maybe stronger than some others being the romantic type, but I have a strong grasp on reality. I also have a good understanding of science and a stubborn belief that I am always right. But at this point I started doubting my sanity. I had a guy who was crying telling me that he had just lost his fiancé and that I was not even liked by this woman or her family and that I could not have spoken with her that day at all because she was in the hospital then.
I was very confused. I started working on it, hard. I called my phone company to get proof that I had really called. Proof for whom? Me most importantly. I was dangerously close to losing it. Could I have imagined all of this? Been imagining the whole thing? I really gave that some thought, and I freaked a bit. Maybe I was delusional.
The answer came back from the phone company about fifteen minute later. I did receive a call from Rhonda's phone at 11:45am.
Huh! Well I am right on that point, but if she was in the hospital last night and dead now, who was I speaking to?
I was confused and beginning to get mad. I knew of just one way to figure this out and it involved keeping my plane reservations and just going no matter what anyone said. Just show up and see what happens. Stan had told me to cancel the trip, and that there was nothing there for me, no one wanted me. Stay away. Too Bad, I was going.
I turned to the other people I had written to over the last few months that were on her page. I wrote to her brother, and her friend Russ asking for help. Russ was an ex boyfriend of hers so they both had said. She spoke of him often and always with the best things to say about him. He had actually called me 4 times over the last 6 weeks or so. He told me how they met in college at Ohio State. Told me that like him she was an adrenaline junky and they had met rollerblading down the ramps of a large parking garage. He was a nice guy, a guy's guy. Kind and always talking about his next stunt... He loved to fly hot air balloons and loved even more to sky dive. So he combined the two and jumped out of hot air balloons. Told me in a different conversation after her attack that he had visited her and seen her. She was in terrible shape he told me. Horrible.
I wrote him in a panic and noticed, as you can on MySpace, that he had read the letter just a few minutes later. I waited for a response. I wrote again, and said call me, you have my number but in case you don't here it is.
I saw that letter was read too. No response. I wrote a third and same thing. Nothing. Then I wrote an ultimatum. I said Stan does not want me down there, but I am going unless I hear you tell me not to. Nothing.
At this point I was going and there was no stopping me. I call a friend to have my dog watched, tell my kids that I will be gone helping a friend for a few days and began thinking of what to do about my clients who I depend on and depend on me.
About an hour later, about six or so PST, I get a call from a guy named John. One of her brothers was named John so I assumed it was him. I say thanks for calling back. And he begins asking who I am and why I am coming down to his house. He then goes on, quite forcefully, to say that I had better not come down to his house because things will get ugly between us if I do. I try to calm him down as he is beginning to get a little hot and I tell him that I wanted to come to visit after hearing that Rhonda had died. He then says, well I am her husband and I would know if she were dead.
He tells me again not to come down and I just start asking questions, not wanting this to end as I was desperately grasping at reality.
But at the same time having to believe his sincerity that he really is Rhonda's husband. I tell him that another guy, Stan, just said he was engaged to her just this morning. He says that is impossible. I told him that I have been talking with her for months sometimes for hours at a time. He first gets quiet, and then he sighs and says, "She has done this before, but I thought it was all over". He said he was at work and could not talk more so we hang up. I don't know what to believe now everyone says they are engaged, married a relative or in a relationship with her.
About eleven o'clock PST I decide to call him. It was about 2am his time. I call, not expecting him to answer because in four months of messages I always got either Rhonda or the voice mail. But he answered. "Hello?" I tell him who I am and that I am very sorry for what is happening to him and asked if he had any questions for me. I basically just said that and shut up. He did. Lots. He started asking about when she and I had talked, what days, what times. Started asking about names of people and who was supposed to be who. Started putting together things like the time when she would say she was going to a friend's house and the time that she and I talked. The times correlated. I told him about the dinner with Stan she had had that was just the other night and that I had talked to her then too. He realized that was the time when she claimed to him to be visiting a friend in the hospital who was losing her baby. We realized that the hysterical phone call I received, supposedly from her sister, was right before she told him, sobbingly, that the baby had been lost. She used the same tears for each of us, but for different lies.
I asked if he had seen the flowers that I had sent a couple of days earlier.
I was still hoping that this was the wrong guy. But he said. "Oh you are the one who sent the flowers!" "They are in my bathroom right
now" I asked if he had seen the card and he said no. She had told him that they came from a person she used to talk to on MySpace but had stopped a long time ago.
At one point during our conversation I remembered something that happened that had seemed odd. I remembered talking with her, a few nights earlier, when I suddenly heard a man walk in and rather than let me hear everything between she and whoever she was talking to, like she did so often, this time she hit the mute button. I was in silence. About a minute later she came back and just continued where we left off. I asked who that was and she said her brother was there staying with her and he had just walked in. I mentioned this incident to John and he and I were able to figure out exactly when that happened because he remembered walking in on her at that exact time. He was coming downstairs to see if she was coming up to bed with him. I was having a very long affectionate conversation with her while I thought she was living alone still in a cast covered in stitches, he thought she was just watching TV and neither of us had a clue about the other. He also did not have a clue that she was engaged to two other men, and had the hearts of many more.
I told him that I had heard she worked for the Red Cross, and he just laughed. "No" He says "She has been unemployed for over a year". "She does not even have a driver's license" She had never been to NY, or anywhere else for that matter.
I asked John about her sisters and he said she had none. I asked about her brother named Rodney and he quietly said, "Well, yeah she does have brother name Rodney" Finally a gram of truth. I said from the pictures he is about six foot six and full of muscle, really good looking. Laughter. No, that's not him. I then for the first time asked what Rhonda looked like.
He said 'well she is about five foot eleven', and I thought yeah that is what she claimed, wow maybe she does look like her photos which were gorgeous photos of a very tall woman who weighed about 120 lbs. Nice abs, amazing legs. Perfect. But what he said next was not quite right. "She weighs about 250-260 lbs"
What I have been doing since my conversation with John has been getting in touch with several of the other men who have been duped by her and having long conversations with them. One is an MD, but she stole his name and profession to create another person with another MySpace page. He and I have shared quite a few stories about her. Russ was another and was really spun out by this woman. He had been with her for ten months and really loved her. He and I have really bonded over this and have told each other what Rhonda was saying about the other. He was told by her at some point that I was her stalker, a story that she had told me about too, except Eric was the stalker not me. He was told by her that she needed him to help her and her investigators at the FBI catch me. She wanted him to call me to try to get me to say certain things, and then to initiate a call to her so they could trace it. Every time he called me it made her stories more real.
He was backing her up, honestly trying to help her, and yet he was being played to make me believe even more strongly. So all four phone calls he made to me were choreographed by her. He believed he was doing her a favor and protecting the girl he loved. We laugh about it now, and all is good between us.
Stan (Not his real name) is another and is a Professional Athlete. He loved her too and was the only one of this group, who got to meet her in person. He flew down when he heard she was going to the hospital. When he arrived, he went right up to the house and Rhonda answered the door. But upon seeing him she switched personalities and became her own older and much fatter sister Brooklyn. He had no idea, I mean who would. Someone answers a door and says they are your friends sister you believe them. No one asks for ID.
Jim was another and got off easy emotionally. I know Jim spent one night singing to her for about 6 hours and I am sure had many other long conversations like I did, he really liked her but he caught on to her early enough for no damage to have been done.
Trent was another from earlier. He had actually found out about her months ago and tried to alert everyone in a post. She was, however, smart enough to limit the damage and keep her personae up. She had fake conversations between her fake friends about this stupid post. They would laugh among themselves saying that the person who wrote it must be an idiot. He fell for her hard enough to fly down to her just like Stan. I have not spoken with him but I believe he got to meet her sister too.
Christian was another and was very hurt by all of this just like I was. Seems the better the man, the more damage she did. He, like all of us was devastated by the news of her death, again who wouldn't be. He was absolutely drained of emotion. After I had put a lot of this together I wrote him and left my number. He did not call but one of his friends did. She asked me lots of questions about Rhonda and tried to get all of the questions answered that Christian would have asked if he had called. I don't think Christian thought I was real at this point.
Quinn was another but seemed like he got through this pretty well. I never spoke with him but I think he got out of this with nothing more than a little time wasted.
Ron called me the other day on the phone and asked what did she want? He said I don't have a lot of money. Neither do I but she never asked for anything. Never asked or hinted at a gift, or loans, or help in any way. Never wanted to be taken or sent anywhere of course either. She wanted nothing more than affection. She was addicted to the feelings of love, the love so many poured on her. Her persona, her photos, her education, her profession all made her out to be a princess. No one could believe that she would be interested in them and felt lucky to have her affection. She basked in the affection poured on her and soon realized that one was not enough. Two, then three, then four all at the same time. She loved it, still loves it. She loved the drama, loved to hurt men, loved to hear them cry for her. She is still out there, I can see when she logs in to one of her three, (that I know of) profiles. The last login was just two days before writing this. She will, I expect, be transferring her profile information to another site soon. Be starting new relationships with new men and women if not right now then soon. She used her site, plus the two men's sites to lure both men and women to her web. She got everyone telling the same story and then everyone backed up hers. You could be her next victim, if that is the right word. If you had not read this, you would never have guessed what she was up to. Don't believe me, ask Kim. She was fooled by Rhonda. Rhonda is brilliant and is exactly what your mother warned you about. She is dangerous, not to your wallet, but to the most important thing you have, your heart.
Each of us knew about the others, had heard different death stories, and each of us thought different things about the others, but we all knew each others names. This was real to all of us.
It has been two months now since I first began writing this and what brought me back to finish it was a fireman in Florida just contacted me. He spoke to her last week. Welcome to the club man.
Aug 6th 2006
I think we all know that MySpace is pretty transparent. The nightly news blares stories of abductions, of adults pretending to be children, of boys pretending to be girls, of old men pretending to be young men and girls pretending to be honest. It's all here for us to play with, for us to enjoy with our coffee in the morning, or with our wine at night. Each of us has a fascination with the people-catalog and are apart of it for different reasons. None of them are necessarily wrong, but none of them are really right either. Some would say any time spent here is unhealthy and others say anything in moderation is fine. So where do you fall? Too many MySpace people, not enough real people, or just enough of both to keep you busy and happy? Keeping your finances and emotions safe? I bet you are not.
The one thing we all believe we have in common is intelligence and the ability to sniff out lies and deceptions given enough time. We all feel we are careful, and having a friend or family member telling us to be careful does not help at all. "You be careful on that MySpace thing, I have heard stories" Your mom or roommate might say. 'Yeah right. Careful, sure thing mom. Thanks, but I'm fine.' Well are you? Are you fine? You might be, but if you aren't I can guarantee you that you don't know you aren't.
About 4 months ago a female friend on my friends list named Kim was contacted by a 30 year old woman named Rhonda from ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />..:NAMESPACE PREFIX = ST1 />West Virginia.
They communicated via MySpace a bit like we all do and left little comments like we all do nothing out of the ordinary at all. She learned that Rhonda was a Marketing Director for the Red Cross who traveled about 200 days a year for work and liked MySpace because it offered her something to do while on the road. A chance to meet new people, some eventually in person, some just to be pen pals. But it gave her a line of communication to the world that was consistent wherever she went. Same people, same friendly comments, lots of emails, and lots of people with whom to stay on the phone with. My friend found her to be very interesting and impressive. Beautiful, educated, simple and working an amazing job. Well who wouldn't be impressed, she was an impressive woman.
She described her job as one where she was to go around the country and entertain benefactors to the Red Cross and basically help them get into the Red Cross system of donating large sums of money. She would only work with those donating One Million dollars and up, and as a result of working with this type of client she was often invited to go to some of the greatest functions held by the wealthiest benefactors in the country. House parties on Malibu, the super bowl party held annually by Playboy basketball superstar's house and the list went on and on. She was able to associate on her own with athletes, movie stars, and everyone who was anyone in her spare time. They all loved her, hell even their mothers loved her. It was her job and she did it well. Her other function was to act in times of crises, like disasters, as a liaison between the National Guard and the Media. She would be flown to Sedona for the wildfires or New Orleans for the hurricane or to Pennsylvania for the flooding. Each place was a hotel or in some cases 'camps' where they all just made do living together to get the job done. The summer was her slow time for disasters, no hurricanes, so that was her time to stay in her home and take conference calls, and even take time to teach dance. Salsa and ballet were her specialty.
She had another side profession and that was as a consultant for a couple of energy companies, who were heavily involved with mining on the east coast.
She was called there to help them communicate better with the media. Was there to teach the people who would be in charge of leaking news about a mining disaster for example to the news. They set up mock drills with real actors playing people trapped, wounded and dead, had other actors playing the various media outlets and then watched the mayhem and observed both how well the disaster teams worked but also how well the media relations did.
For example in the last mining accident you might remember, the media was told that everyone was fine just about an hour before they realized that everyone but one guy was dead. Definitely a mistake. This was how she described her function. To help prevent that kind of thing from happening.
She invited me to her private page after seeing me on my friend Kim's page and began writing letters to me. Nice, long well thought out letters. Made some comments on my pictures that were very nice and other friendly comments on my page and also my blog. We became pen pals. The distance between us was too far to think of anything else.
Our letters continued and I enjoyed every one from her. They were long, well thought out letters. Each one taking, I am sure, at least an hour to write. Pages sometimes. Everything about her, her family, work, where she was at, and what she thought about me. I did the same. Wrote long letters that were very affectionate and informative about me, my work, my family and history and my choices in recreation. Eventually these turned into phone calls and I was just as happy to hear that my new friend was an excellent speaker. We talked often and for hours at a time. There were many occasions where we would start a conversation at 9pm and finish around 1 to 2am. Really fascinating conversations about her work, her goals, my work, and my goals.
I learned that she had 13 brothers and sisters of which she and her twin brother were the youngest. The oldest was 62, Brice I think his name was, and the oldest sister was Bekha at 45. I learned of their families, their kids, their marriages good and bad. I learned about their professions and successes. I saw photos of nieces and nephews, I saw photos of her eighty year old mother and her father who just past away. I saw many photos of her twin brother Rodney whom she just adored and as you could see on MySpace adored her as well. Rodney is a hulk of a guy at six foot six and very attractive. Not that I notice things like that but hey I can call a rock a rock. Genetically superior was how I referred to her and her family. All of them tall, good looking and for the most part successful. It sounded like they all really loved each other a lot, had a great family relationship and loved to get together to BBQ and watch Alabama football. "Go 'Bama" was their family motto.
About two months later she and I made plans to meet when I returned form a business trip. She was scheduled to land in later the same day for Red Cross work so finally our schedules were colliding. It was going to work out great. I would stay at the airport or go home and come back, either way it didn't matter I would pick her up and take her to her hotel and then out for dinner. I could not wait. We spoke late Friday night as she was out with one of her friends going out for a night on the town in NY. I heard them laughing and having a great time poking each other then giggling. Clearly they were a bit drunk already and she was just checking in with me. I let her go and told her to have fun.
I did not hear from her on Saturday at all, she did not call back or text back when I tried to reach her, and not having her Itinerary I was anxious to talk. I did not hear from her on Sunday either. Even after I landed back home in Seattle I still had not heard from her. So I texted again, a bit firmer saying hey I need to know what is up. Then I finally received a response. It said "I am sorry, but she is in the hospital. I assume you are one of her colleagues so contact the office and they will let you know what to do." HUH? I quickly wrote back and said, no this was her friend David in Seattle and I was expecting to meet her is she ok? The response came in about 15 minutes later and said 'Oh I am sorry David; this is Rho's sister Bekha. I did not know who you were, or your relationship with Rho but Heather filled me in. She went on to say that she couldn't talk then but would call me within an hour to catch me up. Ok, so now I was confused and worried. Who wouldn't be?
I picked up my car from the airport parking lot and drove home. I finally got a call about forty five minutes later; I pulled my car over so I could concentrate. The voice on the other end was fairly calm and very professional and sounded just like someone who would have been one of Rhonda's older sisters. Same cute accent and similar way of speaking, just less flowery and affectionate. I had been told in the past that Bekha was a Psychologist. Bekha then told me that Rhonda was in very bad shape. She and her friend Breedan, a childhood friend who was with her in New York had been abducted at gunpoint by three men after they left the National Guard base. The men had followed them in their car and began flashing their lights and honking their horn at them. Not knowing who it was, and thinking it might have been the guy they just left at the base, Rhonda pulled her car over. Three men got out of the car and pointed a gun at Rhonda. Two got in the backseat and held Breedan, while the third drove their own car. They were taken to an abandon building somewhere in the city and Rhonda was taken out and gang raped. Breedan was forced to watch the whole thing.
One of her attackers seemed to be just a sadist and had no intention of raping her at all. He just wanted to hurt her, and badly. He kicked her in the head numerous times, kicked her in the belly stomped on her and finally took out a knife and began cutting her face, slicing it up.
One cut from one side of her lip to the other, another from the soft lobe of her ear across her cheek to her smile lines by her mouth. Another above her right eye, and the last below her left one. Each cut went clear to the bone. She had been sliced to pieces.
Raped, tortured and mutilated.
One of the rapists had apparently not agreed with torture and yelled 'Enough! She has had enough'. And when it was over he helped her back to her car. As he put her in the drivers' seat he whispered "I'm sorry". Even a rapist has a line that can be crossed.
She was found driving erratically by the police and pulled over thinking she was a drunk. Once they found her she was nearly unconscious, bleeding profusely and barely clothed. She was rushed to emergency. At the NY General hospital the staff brought out the rape kit in the emergency room, the Day-after pill and STD tests. She was questioned and humiliated beyond words. It was all necessary but she told me how some of the questioners insinuated that she was at fault in some way, maybe her clothes or whatever. Her injuries totaled 5 broken ribs, 3 on one side, 2 on another, her right leg broken in 3 places, her clavicle fractured, massive swelling in the head, and some abdominal injuries. Her face was sutured up, and her broken body was cast and set. A minor brain surgery was required to relieve pressure in her head which went well the rest just had to heal.
I was able to speak with her about 4 hours later after hearing the news. Drugs had been keeping her unconscious until that point. We spoke and she sounded terrible. Very drugged up, very hard to understand, and a bit loopy. Her voice was soft, tired and raspy. She managed to talk to me for about fifteen minutes before falling back into a nightmare filled sleep.
I was horrified by all of this. Shocked to my core and absolutely sick by it. I cried; yes let me admit I cried for her. I sobbed. I felt horrible, wanted to help, wanted to be there but she had already said that she would not let anyone see her in the condition she was in. Her mental state was too fragile, she was too ashamed, and she looked like hell. Worse than hell. I knew that her sister was there with her, her mother was flying in and would be there the next day followed by other sisters shortly. She was well supported.
So I stepped in to a role of being a supportive friend. Trying to talk about things with her to help her pass the time, help her stay awake when she did not want to sleep. Help her keep the nightmares away. She would give me little details from time to time, but always switched back to asking about me. 'Tell me something funny" she would say. So I would relate some part of my day that was funny. Tell her something interesting about my day, or my work or kids.
Eventually after about a week in the hospital she was released but still badly beaten and went home to her house in West Virginia. This was the house she bought, to be used as an investment, while a four year relationship with a celebrity marathon runner. She bought it as an investment while living with him, then when she broke up with him she moved into the house to use as a home base.
Because of her job she could live anywhere that was near an airport so this was as good as any.
With her came her mother, and two sisters who stayed about a week. She talked to me when she had alone time, and would tell me how great they were and that they were just driving her crazy. She loved them of course for what they did, but needed her space too. They were over loving her.
She would laugh more freely now, joked more often and was able to talk about the details a bit more. Told me that the men were captured, and that two of them were National Guardsmen. One was a civilian. Told me that she was called back to NY to ID them. She was to meet at the police station a nineteen year old girl who had been attacked by these same men just three
weeks earlier. We spoke nearly every day. Sometimes more than once each
day.
At last they all left to return to their lives seeing that Rhonda was physically healing and the mental damage would have to come sooner or later but there was no pushing it. I remember her first night alone. She was terrified. Every little bump, every little creak made her jump. She was so afraid of her big house she could hardly stand it. Where she used to find solace in the quiet and creaks, now she found fear. Her imagination and her nerves were on overload. I kept her company one night till I could not talk anymore, I just couldn't. I almost fell asleep right in the middle of a conversation it went on so long.
More days went by and she began working from home. Taking calls again, being included on conference calls with her Washington DC office and being asked when she would be ready to get back to the cities, for work. Seattle, San Francisco, and Houston all had to be visited. She let me know that on her Seattle visit we would finally meet and I was quite excited. This was supposed to happen in about a week or two; the details had not yet been set.
One day I decided to send flowers on a whim. She received them on a Thursday and called me the following morning to thank me. Orchids, her favorite. We talked a bit about her day and she asked if she could excuse herself because I could hear her other phone ringing and it was her office calling. She had two phones going a lot, and I often was put down so she could take a call from someone else. I would listen in to who she was talking to and hear what she had to say. Often it would be her brother Rodney, other times, Russ, or Stan, and once her ex boyfriend Josh. Josh still loved her and wanted her back and I heard a conversation between them once. She had told him she was talking with me, and used my name, and had to go, but he kept pulling her back into the conversation not letting her go. She would laugh and say "Ok I have to go now" and then giggle and keep talking. Finally I heard her say "I know you do" then "No, nothing has changed" then finally "Ok let's talk later." Then we finished our talk.
Clearly he had said I love you to her and she had been firm with him. Wow, she was direct, I liked that.
So the office needed her, it was the middle of the afternoon at this point and she said she would call back later. About two or three hours later I get a call from her phone. I was at home just enjoying the day. I had the French doors open to the deck, my dog running in and out and it was about eighty degrees outside. Life was perfect. On the phone, I quickly realize was a hysterical girl sobbing barely able to speak on the other end. What's wrong I yell? "This is Heather" She said.
Rhonda's sister. "Rhonda had to go to the emergency room sob, sob...and didn't make it." That sentence took a full minute to get out of her through the tears and sobbing. "What?!!" She didn't make it? Huh? And she repeated it. Said she saw my number on here and after calling her family had called me. But she couldn't talk much longer, she just couldn't handle it. Ok I said. Where can I reach you? At Rhonda's house, we are all going to be there later she said. I began freaking out at this point. No more asking if I could come down, I was going to go down. I booked a ticket right then and there, with a week set as the length of stay. I did not know how long it would be for the services so I planned more time and knew that I could change it either way if I had to for fifty bucks. I didn't care how long it took; I just had to be there, to meet her family that I had heard so much about. To talk in person with the sisters I had talked with on the phone.
I began calling her house, trying to get someone to answer to help me make some of the arrangements, I had her home address so I really didn't need anything but wanted to connect with them in some way. No one answered so I left several distraught messages with my phone number. "Someone please call me back"
Then I got the single strangest call I have ever received in my life. It was from her friend Stan. I had heard of him as he was on her MySpace page, left her comments all the time and she spoke of him often. Said they used to date but now were just friends. He was choked up and stern when he spoke. He said though tears "I am here, and no one, including her wants you to come.
Stay away. She never liked you, told you to leave her alone and you are not wanted here. Besides I am her fiancé. We were scheduled to wed in six months."
The thing that was even more odd and confusing was that the night before Rhonda had called me while out to dinner with Stan. Had said all sorts of affectionate things to me with him right there at the table. She even tried to get him to talk with me by holding out the phone and telling him to say hi, but he wouldn't. I heard him there, knew that he had heard her mention my name several times. Knew that he had heard her laugh and say things like 'I miss you', and 'I can't wait to see you'.
I kept trying to stop him. I wanted him to know who I was, that he clearly had me mistaken with someone else. That there was no way Rhonda could be engaged. She and I had talked for months, had become very close and I had not heard anything about this. But he kept insisting through tears that I not come down. Told me that I had to respect the fact that he had just lost his fiancé and leave them alone. That neither he nor the family wanted me there. So I started grasping at straws.
I still felt that there had to be a mix up. "But you were there last night at the Italian restaurant right?" "Yes" He said. "You heard how she talked to me, you were there!" "No He said. I was out with her sister"
Now my head was beginning to swim, I was going under quickly. What, her sister?! No, that can't be, I talked to Rhonda last night, I know it. Not her sister. I tried to tell him that, but he insisted he ate dinner with her sister and then told me to leave them alone. I stopped him and said that I had just spoken to her that morning trying to get credibility with this guy who did not believe anything I was saying. He said No, that's impossible. She has been in the hospital since last night.
Now I am a very stable fellow. Pretty slow emotions, maybe stronger than some others being the romantic type, but I have a strong grasp on reality. I also have a good understanding of science and a stubborn belief that I am always right. But at this point I started doubting my sanity. I had a guy who was crying telling me that he had just lost his fiancé and that I was not even liked by this woman or her family and that I could not have spoken with her that day at all because she was in the hospital then.
I was very confused. I started working on it, hard. I called my phone company to get proof that I had really called. Proof for whom? Me most importantly. I was dangerously close to losing it. Could I have imagined all of this? Been imagining the whole thing? I really gave that some thought, and I freaked a bit. Maybe I was delusional.
The answer came back from the phone company about fifteen minute later. I did receive a call from Rhonda's phone at 11:45am.
Huh! Well I am right on that point, but if she was in the hospital last night and dead now, who was I speaking to?
I was confused and beginning to get mad. I knew of just one way to figure this out and it involved keeping my plane reservations and just going no matter what anyone said. Just show up and see what happens. Stan had told me to cancel the trip, and that there was nothing there for me, no one wanted me. Stay away. Too Bad, I was going.
I turned to the other people I had written to over the last few months that were on her page. I wrote to her brother, and her friend Russ asking for help. Russ was an ex boyfriend of hers so they both had said. She spoke of him often and always with the best things to say about him. He had actually called me 4 times over the last 6 weeks or so. He told me how they met in college at Ohio State. Told me that like him she was an adrenaline junky and they had met rollerblading down the ramps of a large parking garage. He was a nice guy, a guy's guy. Kind and always talking about his next stunt... He loved to fly hot air balloons and loved even more to sky dive. So he combined the two and jumped out of hot air balloons. Told me in a different conversation after her attack that he had visited her and seen her. She was in terrible shape he told me. Horrible.
I wrote him in a panic and noticed, as you can on MySpace, that he had read the letter just a few minutes later. I waited for a response. I wrote again, and said call me, you have my number but in case you don't here it is.
I saw that letter was read too. No response. I wrote a third and same thing. Nothing. Then I wrote an ultimatum. I said Stan does not want me down there, but I am going unless I hear you tell me not to. Nothing.
At this point I was going and there was no stopping me. I call a friend to have my dog watched, tell my kids that I will be gone helping a friend for a few days and began thinking of what to do about my clients who I depend on and depend on me.
About an hour later, about six or so PST, I get a call from a guy named John. One of her brothers was named John so I assumed it was him. I say thanks for calling back. And he begins asking who I am and why I am coming down to his house. He then goes on, quite forcefully, to say that I had better not come down to his house because things will get ugly between us if I do. I try to calm him down as he is beginning to get a little hot and I tell him that I wanted to come to visit after hearing that Rhonda had died. He then says, well I am her husband and I would know if she were dead.
He tells me again not to come down and I just start asking questions, not wanting this to end as I was desperately grasping at reality.
But at the same time having to believe his sincerity that he really is Rhonda's husband. I tell him that another guy, Stan, just said he was engaged to her just this morning. He says that is impossible. I told him that I have been talking with her for months sometimes for hours at a time. He first gets quiet, and then he sighs and says, "She has done this before, but I thought it was all over". He said he was at work and could not talk more so we hang up. I don't know what to believe now everyone says they are engaged, married a relative or in a relationship with her.
About eleven o'clock PST I decide to call him. It was about 2am his time. I call, not expecting him to answer because in four months of messages I always got either Rhonda or the voice mail. But he answered. "Hello?" I tell him who I am and that I am very sorry for what is happening to him and asked if he had any questions for me. I basically just said that and shut up. He did. Lots. He started asking about when she and I had talked, what days, what times. Started asking about names of people and who was supposed to be who. Started putting together things like the time when she would say she was going to a friend's house and the time that she and I talked. The times correlated. I told him about the dinner with Stan she had had that was just the other night and that I had talked to her then too. He realized that was the time when she claimed to him to be visiting a friend in the hospital who was losing her baby. We realized that the hysterical phone call I received, supposedly from her sister, was right before she told him, sobbingly, that the baby had been lost. She used the same tears for each of us, but for different lies.
I asked if he had seen the flowers that I had sent a couple of days earlier.
I was still hoping that this was the wrong guy. But he said. "Oh you are the one who sent the flowers!" "They are in my bathroom right
now" I asked if he had seen the card and he said no. She had told him that they came from a person she used to talk to on MySpace but had stopped a long time ago.
At one point during our conversation I remembered something that happened that had seemed odd. I remembered talking with her, a few nights earlier, when I suddenly heard a man walk in and rather than let me hear everything between she and whoever she was talking to, like she did so often, this time she hit the mute button. I was in silence. About a minute later she came back and just continued where we left off. I asked who that was and she said her brother was there staying with her and he had just walked in. I mentioned this incident to John and he and I were able to figure out exactly when that happened because he remembered walking in on her at that exact time. He was coming downstairs to see if she was coming up to bed with him. I was having a very long affectionate conversation with her while I thought she was living alone still in a cast covered in stitches, he thought she was just watching TV and neither of us had a clue about the other. He also did not have a clue that she was engaged to two other men, and had the hearts of many more.
I told him that I had heard she worked for the Red Cross, and he just laughed. "No" He says "She has been unemployed for over a year". "She does not even have a driver's license" She had never been to NY, or anywhere else for that matter.
I asked John about her sisters and he said she had none. I asked about her brother named Rodney and he quietly said, "Well, yeah she does have brother name Rodney" Finally a gram of truth. I said from the pictures he is about six foot six and full of muscle, really good looking. Laughter. No, that's not him. I then for the first time asked what Rhonda looked like.
He said 'well she is about five foot eleven', and I thought yeah that is what she claimed, wow maybe she does look like her photos which were gorgeous photos of a very tall woman who weighed about 120 lbs. Nice abs, amazing legs. Perfect. But what he said next was not quite right. "She weighs about 250-260 lbs"
What I have been doing since my conversation with John has been getting in touch with several of the other men who have been duped by her and having long conversations with them. One is an MD, but she stole his name and profession to create another person with another MySpace page. He and I have shared quite a few stories about her. Russ was another and was really spun out by this woman. He had been with her for ten months and really loved her. He and I have really bonded over this and have told each other what Rhonda was saying about the other. He was told by her at some point that I was her stalker, a story that she had told me about too, except Eric was the stalker not me. He was told by her that she needed him to help her and her investigators at the FBI catch me. She wanted him to call me to try to get me to say certain things, and then to initiate a call to her so they could trace it. Every time he called me it made her stories more real.
He was backing her up, honestly trying to help her, and yet he was being played to make me believe even more strongly. So all four phone calls he made to me were choreographed by her. He believed he was doing her a favor and protecting the girl he loved. We laugh about it now, and all is good between us.
Stan (Not his real name) is another and is a Professional Athlete. He loved her too and was the only one of this group, who got to meet her in person. He flew down when he heard she was going to the hospital. When he arrived, he went right up to the house and Rhonda answered the door. But upon seeing him she switched personalities and became her own older and much fatter sister Brooklyn. He had no idea, I mean who would. Someone answers a door and says they are your friends sister you believe them. No one asks for ID.
Jim was another and got off easy emotionally. I know Jim spent one night singing to her for about 6 hours and I am sure had many other long conversations like I did, he really liked her but he caught on to her early enough for no damage to have been done.
Trent was another from earlier. He had actually found out about her months ago and tried to alert everyone in a post. She was, however, smart enough to limit the damage and keep her personae up. She had fake conversations between her fake friends about this stupid post. They would laugh among themselves saying that the person who wrote it must be an idiot. He fell for her hard enough to fly down to her just like Stan. I have not spoken with him but I believe he got to meet her sister too.
Christian was another and was very hurt by all of this just like I was. Seems the better the man, the more damage she did. He, like all of us was devastated by the news of her death, again who wouldn't be. He was absolutely drained of emotion. After I had put a lot of this together I wrote him and left my number. He did not call but one of his friends did. She asked me lots of questions about Rhonda and tried to get all of the questions answered that Christian would have asked if he had called. I don't think Christian thought I was real at this point.
Quinn was another but seemed like he got through this pretty well. I never spoke with him but I think he got out of this with nothing more than a little time wasted.
Ron called me the other day on the phone and asked what did she want? He said I don't have a lot of money. Neither do I but she never asked for anything. Never asked or hinted at a gift, or loans, or help in any way. Never wanted to be taken or sent anywhere of course either. She wanted nothing more than affection. She was addicted to the feelings of love, the love so many poured on her. Her persona, her photos, her education, her profession all made her out to be a princess. No one could believe that she would be interested in them and felt lucky to have her affection. She basked in the affection poured on her and soon realized that one was not enough. Two, then three, then four all at the same time. She loved it, still loves it. She loved the drama, loved to hurt men, loved to hear them cry for her. She is still out there, I can see when she logs in to one of her three, (that I know of) profiles. The last login was just two days before writing this. She will, I expect, be transferring her profile information to another site soon. Be starting new relationships with new men and women if not right now then soon. She used her site, plus the two men's sites to lure both men and women to her web. She got everyone telling the same story and then everyone backed up hers. You could be her next victim, if that is the right word. If you had not read this, you would never have guessed what she was up to. Don't believe me, ask Kim. She was fooled by Rhonda. Rhonda is brilliant and is exactly what your mother warned you about. She is dangerous, not to your wallet, but to the most important thing you have, your heart.
Each of us knew about the others, had heard different death stories, and each of us thought different things about the others, but we all knew each others names. This was real to all of us.
It has been two months now since I first began writing this and what brought me back to finish it was a fireman in Florida just contacted me. He spoke to her last week. Welcome to the club man.
1 comment:
David:
What a freaking nightmare! I've run into a couple myself. They can be tough.
Hey, MySpace tears up my little computer... and the astigmatism; ouch.
Let me work on finding a place we can talk if you'd like. I don't know if you have zimbio mail, but the drawback is the non-deleting system they offer.
Until then, thank you for visiting my blog. I have more trash to post so I'd better leave now.
A.J.
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