Jodi claimed their relationship ended when Matt started secretly dating a colleague of his named Bianca. Matt had gotten a job at a resort in Crater Lake, Oregon, and had been living there in employee housing. Though Jodi had suspected that Matt might be straying, she had no proof until, she claimed, a friend broke it to her. Hysterical, she drove an hour and a half north to confront the other woman. When relationship drama was at the finish line, Jodi’s urge to confront became single-minded, overpowering her common sense. Bianca confirmed the rumor, prompting Jodi to break up with Matt for good. That didn’t mean there wasn’t the final attempt to persuade him to come back to her, as she suggested in her goodbye email to him, hoping it might encourage him to stay with her. But the relationship was over. Indeed, some say Matt had already ended it with Jodi before she confronted Bianca, which would put a totally different spin on Jodi’s behavior, making her seem angry over the rejection.
Not long after things with Matt went south, Jodi moved from Oregon to Big Sur, California, five hundred miles away, and it was there, in the fall of 2001, that she took a job as a waitress at the chic Ventana Inn & Spa in Carmel. Darryl Brewer, the resort’s food and beverage director, was in charge of hiring and training the restaurant’s employees. Darryl was handsome, thin, fit, and well groomed, and though he was her boss, Jodi harbored a secret crush for a year, calling him a “George Clooney type.” He always presented himself in a sophisticated, professional manner, his brown hair neatly combed and his blue-gray eyes appearing gentle behind rimless glasses.
Jodi didn’t want a workplace relationship, but it appeared that there were feelings on both sides, and some romantic type of relationship was slowly blooming. Finally it became unavoidable. Jodi says she began filling in as a wedding coordinator at the Ventana Inn, while Darryl resigned from management. Finally free to date, the two became a couple in 2002.
Jodi had never been in a relationship with anyone like Darryl. For one thing, Darryl was much older than Jodi—almost twenty years older. With Jodi twenty-two and Darryl forty-two, it was a real May-December romance. Besides the age difference, Darryl was also divorced with a four-year-old son. Jodi would go on to develop a good relationship with Darryl’s son, saying he felt like a little brother to her. The end result of both these things was a relationship that, at least on the outside, looked far different from those she’d had with Bobby and Matt.
Although Jodi seemed to be experiencing a normal, well-balanced relationship with a gentle, soft-spoken, caring man, in retrospect some now see disturbing patterns in her behavior from that time. Those who knew Jodi back then said she seemed very intent on mimicking Darryl’s ex-wife, an attractive blonde and successful career woman who had put herself through college by working at the chic Carmel restaurant where Jodi would eventually work. And then there was Jodi’s physical appearance. Darryl’s ex had blond hair. Jodi soon dyed her hair bleach blond. After Darryl’s ex got breast implants, so did Jodi. It went so far as Jodi even getting the same kind of car that Darryl’s ex had. It was as if Jodi were trying to become the woman who was standing with Darryl in his old wedding photo. Jodi seemed obsessed with the idea of getting married and getting financial stability, talking to those in the know about IRAs and other savings vehicles.
Jodi and Darryl had been dating for a while when Jodi learned that her childhood best friend Patti was getting married and wanted her to be a bridesmaid. Jodi was waitressing to pay the bills so couldn’t afford to splurge on a bridesmaid’s gown or store-bought gift. Patti’s dad paid for Jodi’s bridesmaid outfit, and Jodi’s gift turned out to be a photo album that she created by snapping the photos herself. Those who’ve seen the wedding album say it was professionally done and quite artistic.
A couple of years into the relationship, Darryl and Jodi decided it was time to put down roots and buy a house together. Jodi, the woman who a year earlier couldn’t afford to buy a dress for a wedding, suddenly was eager to become indebted to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Maybe co-homeownership was a way to lock in what she hoped would be her future, with a home and husband. Jodi was also suckered in by the way home prices were going in only one direction, up, and everybody’s dream was to invest and watch his or her investment multiply during the now-infamous real estate bubble gone bust of the mid-2000s. Like millions of other starry-eyed Americans, Jodi wanted to get in low and flip high. Friends said she couldn’t stop talking about real estate prices and mortgage rates. But there was no way Jodi and Darryl could afford to buy near the exclusive Ventana Inn, an area with some of the most expensive real estate in America.
Darryl’s ex-wife was friendly and supportive of their relationship. She actually gave them some financial advice and factored in Jodi and Darryl’s goals when she and her new husband bought a second home in the Palm Springs area. Everybody’s decisions revolved around making sure both Darryl and his ex were close to their son. Darryl and Jodi found what seemed like a reasonably priced house in nearby Palm Desert. It cost $350,000, and they intended to treat it as an investment. When they closed in June 2005, their hope was to live in the house for two years, and then flip it for profit when the time was right. It would turn out that they had jumped into real estate near the peak of the market and were soon saddled with a house worth less than the outstanding mortgage, which ballooned from a monthly obligation of $2,400 to $2,800 at its first adjustment.
Despite the challenges and Jodi’s behavior mimicking Darryl’s ex-wife, Darryl and Jodi created a life together in Palm Desert, hiking, camping, and enjoying the outdoors. Darryl considered Jodi a responsible caretaker for his son, and he would often leave her alone with the boy, who came to view her as an aunt figure. During this time, Darryl said he observed Jodi grow as a person and considered her to be mature beyond her years and a responsible financial partner, working two jobs to contribute to the household expenses. He also appreciated her developing artistic talents.
Jodi felt they were making a nice, stable life together, but when she envisioned marriage and children, their relationship hit a wall. Darryl said the two discussed marriage and starting a family, and although he considered it for a fleeting moment, he ultimately decided he could not make the commitment. He already had a child and a job that demanded a lot of his time, and he did not believe he had room in his schedule for another child. Jodi said she understood, and according to Darryl, she was okay with their arrangement as it was. But others said it was obvious from talking to Jodi that she was focused like a laser beam on three goals: marriage, family, and financial security. When Darryl made it clear he was not going to tie the knot with Jodi, joint mortgage or not, their relationship started slowly unraveling.
As Darryl started pondering a return to Northern California, Jodi started looking around for options, which was when she discovered an opportunity called Pre-Paid Legal. Pre-Paid Legal Services, Inc. (PPL) encouraged individuals who represented them to sell legal insurance to others. The more people you signed up to sell legal insurance, the bigger your take, and the higher you rose in the company’s ranks. To some the corporate structure seemed to look a little like a pyramid. To others it seemed like a fun way to make money while meeting lots of new people. There was a social aspect to PPL that was very attractive to those who got involved. It felt a lot like being part of a club.
From Darryl’s perspective, it all looked like magical thinking. Jodi was thinking positive thoughts but stopped paying her share of the bills. Jodi started putting her half of the mortgage on her credit cards. Instead of getting better, her financial situation was becoming even more precarious. But Jodi appeared to be counting on Pre-Paid Legal to solve it all, and in September 2006 she decided to attend PPL’s Las Vegas convention, where a chance meeting with Travis Alexander would change the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 5
THE CRIME SCENE
Temperatures had already climbed into the nineties by 9:30 A.M. on June 10, 2008, and the forecast was calling for a high of 105 degrees. Under mostly cloud
y skies, Detective Flores and his team prepared to execute a search warrant on the Mesa home of Travis Victor Alexander. The two-story southwestern-style residence had been secured with yellow tape and was under steady police guard. No one was allowed to enter or leave the premises without signing a log. It was a little before 10 A.M. when homicide investigators, donning plastic booties and latex gloves, climbed the carpeted stairs of the home and entered the master bedroom suite through double entry doors.
Investigators had been instructed to focus primarily on the victim and the surrounding area where his body had been discovered, basically the master bedroom and master bath. The team had been briefed that the homeowner had been found dead in the master bathroom shower, and it was unknown how long he had been there.
The master suite was quite large and tastefully decorated in a soft palette of browns and yellows. A beige cut pile carpet covered the floor. A dark wood sleigh bed, matching end tables, and identical black table lamps with tiny white shades gave the room a homey feel. A comfy upholstered love seat was nestled in front of a big window, its matching ottoman draped by a cozy blanket. Hanging in a dark wood frame over the bed was a piece of traditional art. The master bedroom had a large walk-in closet, and a long tiled hallway led to the master bath, which had a cherrywood vanity topped by a double sink, a big Jacuzzi-style tub, a stand-alone shower, and a separate toilet area.
A huge bloodstain on the carpet at the entrance to the bathroom hallway immediately caught the detective’s attention. He noted that the blood was dry and appeared as if it had been there for several days. There was also a large amount of dried blood on the floor tiles leading to the bathroom, and along the entire length of both walls. Upon closer examination, the detective observed a slight strip of blood down the center of one tile, which he could not immediately explain.
Since the hallway was awash with blood, the officers entered through the large walk-in closet, which had a second door that also led into the bathroom. While the closet itself was pristine, with Travis’s shirts, pants, and shoes meticulously arranged on built-in cabinets, the bathroom on the other side of the closet door was a scene of carnage. There was blood everywhere—on the light brown tiles of the floor, on the walls, even on the window blinds. The gruesome sight of a man’s bloody and bloated body crammed into the shower was compounded by the horrific smell of decomposing flesh that permeated the room. The position of Travis’s body was particularly odd; he was crumbled faceup on the shower floor, his legs bent in a froglike position, and his neck and head bent forward and to the side, exposing a gaping wound to his neck. It looked as if he had been stuffed into the shower and left there to rot.
Detective Flores first noted the large amount of spatter on the northernmost sink and on the mirror above it. Sections of the blood appeared to have been diluted, as if water had been dropped there, while other areas looked like heavy spurting from an artery. There was also a mix of diluted blood and heavier spatter inside and around the sink. Flores determined the faucet must have been running and then was switched off at some point while the victim continued to bleed. Smears of blood on the counter in front of the sink looked as though bloody hands had gripped the area. The investigators searching the bathroom took special care as they maneuvered around the large, thick pools of dried blood all over the floor. They observed that the blood on the floor had a similar pattern to the blood in the sink, a combination of light, diluted areas beneath heavy areas of spatter.
To explain this unusual pattern occurring all over the bathroom, Detective Flores scoured the room, looking for a clue. What he discovered was a cardboard box in the linen closet next to the sink that was stained with a reddish watermark a few inches up from the floor. The location of the stain told him that the bathroom floor had been drenched in water at some time after the killing.
A spent shell casing in one of the dried blood puddles near the sink had not been immediately visible. Flores carefully collected it from the floor and studied it, trying to determine its caliber. He knew it had come from a small-caliber weapon, likely a .22 or .32. Only later was it determined to be a Winchester .25-caliber. An exhaustive search of the home turned up no firearms, no ammunition, and no other evidence that Travis had owned a gun.
DNA swabs, fingerprints, and hair samples were collected from the dried blood on the baseboards and floor of the master bathroom. Of particular note was one latent print found in a bloody area at the entrance to the bathroom hall. The print was waist-level, and police believed it might belong to Travis’s killer. It was found near several blood swipe marks that had been identified in the same general vicinity. The section of the wall where the prints had been found was cut out and inventoried as evidence.
Multiple hair fibers were also collected from the floor and baseboards. Detective Flores noted that one of the hairs was particularly long and did not appear to belong to Travis. It, too, was cataloged as evidence. The homicide team photographed and collected a number of items from the shower area, knowing that any evidence that might be present would be contaminated once the medical examiner’s team entered the room and removed the body. As the items were being collected, Detective Flores made a curious observation. The plastic cup on the floor of the shower had very little blood on it. In fact, it was fairly clean, further confirming his suspicion that Travis was murdered in a different location and dragged to the shower after his death.
An examination of the southern end of the bathroom revealed more blood droplets on the window blinds; some were found just below waist level and others were collected from the very top slat, which was over six feet high. Blood was also discovered on the lower half of the wall beneath the towel rack, as well as all over the door leading into the toilet area. There was even blood around the base of the toilet.
This massive amount of blood throughout the bathroom, hallway, and entrance to the bedroom told a tale that would soon be understood. There was clearly a lot of movement between Travis and his killer. The blood spatter, smears, castoff, and drips indicated that knife wounds were inflicted while Travis was in various parts of the bathroom. Low spatter meant he was on the floor or on his knees near the toilet area. There was spatter under the bathroom scale, several feet from the shower. Most telling was the northern sink, where it appeared that Travis had valiantly stood, his bloodied hands smearing the counter. It was obvious he had already grabbed the blade of the knife at least once, maybe twice, earlier on in the attack as he had staggered around. Blood spatter was on the mirror shelf and mirror over the sink, indicating he had been stabbed repeatedly from behind in his back and also in the back of his head, as he stood over that sink, where he was more than likely spitting blood as well. As his head hung down over the sink, he dripped blood into the drain. From the scene, it looked like Travis hadn’t really fought back; he was just trying to get away from his killer.
But the stabbing assault continued; it was vicious and furious. Travis wasn’t dying fast enough for his killer. He stumbled away from the sink and down the twelve-foot-long hallway that led to his bedroom. He knew the door that led out of the master suite was just to the left at the end of the hall. It was just a few feet away. If he could just get out of the bedroom, maybe a roommate would be home to save him. Maybe he could get downstairs and out the front door—to safety. But his killer knew not to let him leave the bedroom for these same reasons. Travis had already lost a lot of blood. He was dying as he neared the end of that bathroom hall. He left an arc of smeared blood on the wall of that hallway as he fell, maybe to his knees, unable to make the last few feet out of his bedroom. Was he conscious when his killer drew the knife across his throat for the final, brutal coup de grâce?
It was precisely 11 A.M. when Detective Flores gave the two investigators from the Maricopa County Medical Examiner’s Office the go-ahead to enter the bathroom and help with the removal of Travis’s body. Photographs were taken to document Travis’s exact position, and then he was carefully prepared for transport. It was at this time that
the extent of Travis’s injuries became glaringly apparent to everyone in the room as the cluster of stab wounds to his back and head were now visible.
As the investigators from the ME’s office began the process of removing the corpse from the shower, Detective Flores and his team continued their evidence collection in the master bedroom. They noticed that there were no sheets or blankets on Travis’s king-sized bed. A search of the entire bedroom, including the walk-in closet and dresser, yielded not a single sheet, blanket, or pillowcase, which the detectives found extremely odd.
The answer to the puzzle was downstairs in the laundry room, where investigators discovered a set of brown-striped sheets in the dryer. Apparently, someone had washed them after the murder and then run them through the dryer. A reddish stain on the inside rim of the washing machine tested positive for blood. Inside the drum, detectives found a Sony DSC-H9 digital camera mixed in with several articles of Travis’s clothing, undergarments, sweatpants, shorts, towels, and T-shirts. They determined the camera had been run through a wash cycle and had severe water damage. Remarkably, the digital card was still intact. Little did anyone know how critical to the case the photos on the digital card would become.
Detective Flores was able to determine that the camera had belonged to Travis. In an interview with Travis’s roommate, Zachary Billings, he learned that several months before the murder, Travis had consulted Zach on the purchase of the camera, and its box was found in the downstairs office. Investigators found the camera bag and unused strap in the upstairs loft near the master bedroom door.
During an inspection of the home office, detectives recovered Travis’s laptop computer. Members of the Mesa police Computer Forensic Unit were able to determine that it had last been used to access email at 4:19 P.M. on June 4. Travis’s cell phone was also located in the room. A cursory review of the call log showed his last communication was made at 12:13 P.M. on June 4. It was a text to his close friend Chris Hughes. There had been other incoming calls and texts to the phone after that, but they had all gone unanswered. Detective Flores spoke to Chris and confirmed that he had received the text message. Chris said it had been a confirmation of the important conference call that Travis was supposed to be hosting in the evening of June 4. The call was scheduled for 7 P.M., but nobody had heard from Travis and no one could get a hold of him.
Exposed: The Secret Life of Jodi Arias Page 6
