Flores began the interview by asking her cell phone number—confirming it was the same number that had phoned in the anonymous call. Still in the process of gathering intelligence on Dustin, the detectives did not confront Ashley about the tip. During the interview, she too never mentioned that she had called the police concerning her husband.
Ashley told detectives that she and Travis were close friends for the past three years and that her husband also knew Travis.
“Were you and Travis more than friends?” Flores asked.
“No, we were just friends,” she said, “nothing else.”
As she spoke about her husband, Flores noticed that she referred to Dustin as her ex. Records showed the couple was still married. Flores asked Ashley about this discrepancy.
“We’re divorcing,” Ashley said. “We live apart.”
Ashley said the reason for the divorce was financial issues that had added stress in the marriage. Their house was facing possible foreclosure, and a few weeks prior Ashley had moved out.
She had last seen Travis three weeks ago at one of his UFC parties, which she regularly attended, she said.
On the day his body was discovered Ashley said she had tried to call, but didn’t get an answer. Later that same day a friend called and told Ashley that Travis was dead. Dustin also learned of the discovery that night and had driven over to Travis’s house. Dustin had actually been standing outside the house, among a group of Travis’s friends, as police were investigating the homicide.
Ashley provided Dustin’s work address and schedule to detectives. Interviewing Dustin, detectives quickly determined he had an alibi and was not a viable suspect in the killing.
Days later Detective Kaufman re-interviewed Ashley. During this interview Ashley confessed that she was the one who left the anonymous tip about Dustin with the Apache Junction Police Department.
“We were having a lot of difficulties at the time,” Ashley said. “And he had been acting real strange.”
It was during the few weeks leading up to Travis’s death that she had left Dustin. During that time Travis and Ashley had become very close. Ashley had even discussed possibly renting a room in Travis’s house.
Ultimately both she and Travis agreed it was not a good idea. They were just good friends and didn’t want people to think there was something inappropriate going on between them.
When Travis was found dead, she kept thinking about how strange Dustin had been acting. Since the day she had made the anonymous phone call, her suspicions about Dustin had vanished.
“I regret calling the police,” she said. “I don’t think there is any way he could have done anything to Travis.”
* * *
Besides Dustin, in the early days of the investigation, one other potential suspect emerged. As Aaron Mortensen was being questioned, he brought up Travis’s former roommate, a man whom Travis had met through church. After it was rumored that he was manipulating women from the ward, Travis had asked him to move out.
“The guy who lived with Travis was a bit of a shady character,” Aaron recalled. “I was concerned about him because they had had a heated argument when Travis kicked him out of the house.”
Still, Aaron couldn’t imagine that months later Travis’s roommate would resort to murder. He told detectives he didn’t think it had ever become personal.
As the investigation continued, however, the rest of Travis’s friends only identified one viable potential suspect: Jodi Arias.
Over the course of the investigation, Travis’s friends continued to call detectives, relaying troubling stories of Jodi’s behavior. Jodi was described as “completely obsessed,” “crazy,” and “a stalker.”
But suspicions were one thing. Hard evidence was what would ultimately solve the murder.
For the next few weeks the forensic lab would be busy at work examining the hair, blood, and fingerprint samples taken from inside the house.
Meanwhile, Detective Michael Melendez, a stout, dark-haired, seasoned computer forensic detective continued the task of examining the electronic equipment recovered from Travis’s house. Several of the computers and drives belonged to Travis’s roommates, and would ultimately provide no evidentiary value to the case.
Travis’s computer and hard drive, however, would be valuable in uncovering potential suspects.
The most unusual evidence uncovered by far was the Sony digital camera discovered in the washing machine with the SanDisk 2GB memory card inside.
The camera had no power, so Melendez purchased a power cord. Once charged and turned on, he discovered the camera was blinking and the date on the internal memory had been reset to January 1, 2007. It appeared the camera reset itself due to lack of power supply. The camera was not functioning and would no longer take pictures. No images appeared on the camera’s internal memory.
Next, Melendez turned his attention toward the camera’s memory card. The shocking images he would discover would ultimately expose a killer.
CHAPTER 25
“Our Dear Heavenly Father, it is with great humility and gratitude that we come before you this day as friends, family, and those who knew Travis to celebrate the impact that he had in our lives,” Dan Freeman prayed before the Mesa congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
It was Monday, June 16, just after 7:30 P.M., and Dan was at the center of the room, in front of the podium, speaking at the first of two memorial services for Travis. The second would be held a week later in Riverside, California.
Nearly a thousand people packed the pews of the church that evening, including Travis’s friends, family, business associates, and fellow congregants. Amid the sea of heartbroken faces, one person seemed to stand out. Near the front of the church sat a woman—at times she appeared to dab a tear from her cheek. At others, a mischievous grin crept across her face. The woman was Jodi Arias.
It had been just one week since Travis’s body was discovered and all anyone knew was that Travis had been murdered. His loved ones had been informed that it was not a suicide and that the crime scene showed signs of a struggle. Because it was an ongoing investigation, the police were not releasing many details.
Meanwhile, rumors had been swirling about Jodi’s obsession with Travis. While a few friends embraced her, most kept their distance.
As distasteful as many found her attendance, no one spoke a word of disrespect. This day wasn’t about Jodi. It was a day to celebrate Travis—to remember the man he was in life.
Dan continued his invocation: “We ask you to bless all those who are struggling with his passing and the questions they ask themselves,” he said. “And we ask the Lord to help us, each and every one of us, to take the good, the example that he was to us, to take it with us and apply those lessons in our lives.”
Following the opening prayer, the atmosphere in the church appeared to lighten. While Travis’s loved ones were in mourning, they found solace in the belief that he was looking down on them from heaven.
For Mormons, death is not an end, but a step forward in God’s plan. Travis’s fellow Mormons believed he was continuing his eternal journey—learning, growing, and progressing. His spirit would retain the memories and knowledge he had gained on earth. Because of their belief in a life after death, a Mormon funeral is generally not dark and depressing. Instead, it’s a celebration of the deceased’s next phase of existence.
The highest degree of Mormon heaven is known as the celestial kingdom, which is the permanent residence of God and Jesus Christ. Only those individuals who are sealed in a celestial marriage are permitted into the highest level of the celestial kingdom.
Although Travis did not have a chance to marry his eternal companion, and therefore did not complete the required ordinances and covenants during his mortal life, he would still have a chance to ascend to the celestial kingdom. Because he accepted the teachings of Jesus Christ, in the afterlife he may still have a chance to meet and marry his eternal companion.
�
��I know I will see Travis one day,” Travis’s sister Hillary Wilcox told the congregation. “I know that he will have an eternal companion and a family.”
Hillary began her eulogy with tears in her eyes, her voice trembling.
“Many of you know him as a neighbor, a colleague, or a friend,” she said. “But whatever the relationship to him, we all know him as a man who in his life played many roles.”
Hillary spoke about Travis’s life growing up in Riverside with his seven siblings. She told stories about Travis’s passions—his love of writing, travel, genealogy, and the UFC. More than anything, Travis loved the Lord, she said. He used his faith to help guide others toward the righteous path.
“I admire Travis so much for his drive and everything he did. He always put his heart into it and everything he did he did it well,” she said. “I’m especially grateful that he was such a good example to me. That I was able to continue and be active in the church and the blessings I do have because of his great example.”
The void left by Travis’s death would never be filled, she said. His family would have to live each day without Travis in their lives. All they had now were memories.
“What I’ll miss most about my brother is his smile. I loved his big smile, it was so cheesy. I just loved it,” Hillary said. “What I think I will most remember about him was his testimony and his love for the gospel. He wanted everyone to know it and he did his best to share it. He was such a spiritual giant and a great person.”
Hillary ended her eulogy by sharing the quote she had found in Travis’s house. “The difference between a stumbling block and a stepping stone is the character of the individual walking the path.”
Travis’s path on earth was finished, but his journey would continue, she said.
“If we all remember what the Lord has done for us and that he will always be there for us, the stumbling blocks in our lives will become stepping stones,” Hillary said.
In between speakers, the Desert Ridge ward choir sang songs and hymns. Following one of Travis’s favorite songs, Michelle Lowery approached the podium, clutching a tissue.
“When you talk with Travis, the conversations are usually really long and very deep. He could talk about anything—politics, goals, education, dreams, the gospel,” Michelle said. “But recently between me and him, most of our conversations turned towards relationships.”
Travis had appointed Michelle his “wingman,” as she assisted him through his relationships, talking him up to girls he was interested in. There was rarely a day when Michelle didn’t get a call or text message from Travis about the girls he was dating, she said.
“Travis may not need me to be his ‘wingman’ anymore, but I’m extremely glad to have another opportunity to talk about him,” she said.
Travis had so many great qualities, Michelle said. He was always genuine with his emotions—expressing his excitement for life.
“It hurts that I only knew him for a short while,” she said, her voice cracking. “And it breaks my heart that he was taken away from us so abruptly. But he had a lasting impression so deep and so strong that no one can ever replace it. I know he’s where he needs to be right now and that he’s being taken care of. I know how strong our friendship was when he was here. And I know that we will be friends for the eternities. I know one day I will meet him there and he’ll be standing there with just a big smile, his arms outstretched, and give me a hug. We’re going to miss Travis, but he was definitely loved.”
Next, Deanna Reid approached the podium. As she spoke, Jodi glared at her with a disturbing smirk. Deanna tried to look past Jodi as she shared memories of Travis.
“I think probably my favorite memory of Travis was while we were dating. Every year we would compete to see who could give each other the coolest and most thoughtful gifts. And most of the time he won,” she said with an emotional chuckle. “We have a lot of special memories together.”
Even when they lived a state apart, Travis and Deanna rarely went a week without speaking.
“Recently, I was on the phone with him. He had given me a call when he started writing his book,” she said. “And he wanted to read to me some of what he had written.”
When he was done reading, Travis anxiously asked Deanna what she thought.
“It’s so amazing!” Deanna had declared. “I can’t believe how well-written it is.”
Deanna had heard the story of Travis’s upbringing before, but the way he wrote it was so elegant. They began reminiscing about old times, telling stories and laughing.
There was a pause in the conversation. Deanna broke the silence, “I love you Travie. And I’m so proud of you.”
“I love you, too,” Travis replied. “More than you know.”
“Travis changed my life. He made me a better person,” Deanna told the congregation. “And I’m not the only one. He did that for almost everyone that he was associated with. He made people want to be better when he was around them. And even still he inspires us to make every moment count. To live the lives we know we should be living, so that we will be obedient so that we can see him again along with our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. And feel the happiness that he feels now.”
The concluding eulogist for the evening was Aaron Mortensen.
“I stand before you neither as an eloquent eulogist, nor as someone with touching musical abilities. I am but a friend whom Travis referred to as ‘brother,’” he said. “Indeed I am just like you. We cared about Travis, we admired him, and we probably took his greatest qualities for granted at times because he was such a constant in our lives. I hope that my thoughts relay a feeling of warm memories and calming peace as we are now one week from the news which shocked us all.”
The seven days since Travis’s body was found had been traumatic for everyone who knew him. Tonight, Aaron chose to remember fonder memories. As a tribute, he told a story of when Travis had shared his three life goals.
A few months before his death, Travis spent an evening with Aaron, and the discussion turned toward ambitions.
Travis showed Aaron a photo of himself at the International Balloon Fiesta Festival in New Mexico—a goal he’d always wanted to accomplish and recently achieved.
“Travis, what’s next?” Aaron asked, knowing it was one of Travis’s favorite questions.
Travis told him he had three goals on his life’s list. First, he said he wanted to ride a bull, rodeo style—the one thing left in the song “Live Like You Were Dying,” that Travis had yet to complete at the time. Aaron, who was from Colorado and had witnessed many bull riding injuries, couldn’t understand why he would want to do such a dangerous thing.
“It is something that frightened me,” Travis said. “If I could do it, I wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.”
Travis didn’t want to fear anything in life, he told Aaron. Next, Travis showed Aaron a picture of a lighthouse.
“I want to buy one someday,” Travis said.
Travis explained he wanted to renovate the interior, with an elevator up the middle and a spiral slide that went all the way down the inner walls. Aaron gave him an inquiring look.
“It would be cool to have,” Travis declared.
Aaron shrugged. It was a good point.
“Even my overactive pragmatic side couldn’t argue with that,” Aaron recalled in his eulogy. “It’s definitely the best idea I’ve ever heard concerning lighthouse renovation.”
Lastly, Travis told Aaron, “I want to someday have my picture on the cover of Time magazine with the headline ‘Alexander the Great,’” Travis said. As Aaron pointed out in his eulogy, “This would help him to influence hundreds of thousands of people.
“At first, I thought this was such a different desire than I’ve ever had for myself,” Aaron recalled. “But then, I reflected. Travis simply wanted to show other people that he could become great even from a difficult upbringing. And if he could, others could.”
At the end of the service, Aaron held up a Photoshopped
image of Time magazine with a photo of Travis. The headline read, “Alexander the Great.”
“Travis, I can’t get you a bull to ride, because I’m too afraid of them, too, and I can’t afford a lighthouse to buy and dedicate to you, but—” He paused, displaying the photo. “I can put you on a cover of Time magazine. Your efforts to influence scores of people around you have been a success. You’ve been great to me, and you’ve achieved greatness in my eyes. I’ll channel your wisdom and attitude now and in my future. Thank you.”
Finally, Taylor Searle gave the benediction, a short blessing at the end of the service.
“Our dear Heavenly Father. We come before thee this day. And offer thanks for our opportunity to be here, and our thanks for the opportunity to know Travis. Please bless us all that we may remember the love that we have felt and the blessed time that we had to spend with thy son Travis,” Taylor said. “Help us all to remember the influence that we each individually have had from Travis so he may live on in the ways that we respond to that influence.”
* * *
Following the service, the congregants gathered for refreshments and to quietly and privately share memories. Mingling among Travis’s friends and family was Jodi. Dressed in a form-fitting black dress, her long hair hanging loose, Jodi hugged tearful loved ones.
“Jodi wrapped her arms around me and thanked me for coming to the service,” recalled Larry Smith, a friend of Travis’s. “She had a smile on her face.”
Shortly after a good friend and business partner pulled Larry aside.
“Larry, I know she did it,” his friend told him.
Larry glanced back at Jodi. Was hers the last face Travis saw on this earth? he wondered.
As Taylor gave his condolences to Travis’s siblings, Jodi approached him. At that point he was unable to summon even one ounce of tolerance. He exchanged short formalities, then brushed her away and kept walking.
“At the memorial service, I thought it was her the whole time so I was kind of thrown off by her showing up,” Taylor said. “I shunned her. She kept coming up to talk to me and I was like, ‘Get away.’”
Picture Perfect: The Jodi Arias Story: A Beautiful Photographer, Her Mormon Lover, and a Brutal Murder Page 22
