Killer Girlfriend: The Jodi Arias Story

by Brian Skoloff,, Josh Hoffner

  The talk then pivoted to music, pop culture, film, and some spirited debate about superhero movies, Spider-Man vs. Batman, that kind of thing. Travis and Jodi both liked to sing, so he broke out into the Grateful Dead favorite “Truckin’” and they belted out the Alanis Morissette number “Head over Feet” together.

  The whole of the conversation really encapsulated their relationship together. It was a mixture of sex, laughs, jealousy and obsessiveness, social media, marriage talk and reminiscing about their times together.

  The good times, the not so good times, the upcoming trip to Cancun that Travis would never make.

  The call eventually became a key piece of evidence at Jodi’s trial, including the part where she and Travis recalled how he once woke her up in the middle of the night and began administering oral sex not long after she had gotten a Brazilian bikini wax.

  One of Jodi’s defense lawyers insisted at her trial that his comments on the call were not those “of a man who was being relentlessly stalked and does not want to have any contact,” as authorities contended in their case against Jodi.

  In addition, the last three minutes of the call effectively summed up what was going on between Jodi and Travis — firmly in the category of “you can’t make this stuff up”:

  She made one last attempt to draw some affection out of Travis by telling him he was cute, but he didn’t go there. Travis became distant once their long-distance sexual liaison was finished.

  As his yawning grew more incessant, Jodi suggested that they try to “astral project” to find each other in their sleep - a reference to an out-of-body experience in which people believe they can be transported to a different place through their minds.

  And Jodi did a rendition of “You Oughta Know,” the Morissette song that has become an anthem for an entire generation of scorned women. It was a prescient reminder of Jodi’s own anger toward Travis that would rear its head a few weeks later.

  “Now every time I scratch my nails down someone else’s back I hope you feel it,” she sang. ”I hope you feel it.”

  Chapter 10

  The Road Trip

  “Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.” —Jack Kerouac

  Three weeks later, Jodi took a road trip. It was a bizarre excursion, covering 2,000 miles, spanning four states and including visits to four of her current and former lovers. One of them would be Travis.

  The trip began in Yreka, Calif. The first leg of the journey was to the airport in Redding, Calif.

  At Budget Rent A Car, she told the man at the counter that she was embarking on a small, local trip. It was the first of many lies. He offered a red car, and she refused, saying she didn’t want anything too bright in color that might attract attention - and speeding tickets.

  She accepted a white Ford Focus, an unassuming compact car that would blend into the rest of the traveling public, and drove away. She headed south toward the Pacific Coast, winding past the breathtaking views of redwoods, ocean and mountains.

  Her first order of business was to visit her old boyfriend, Darryl Brewer. He was living in the Monterrey area at the time and Jodi dropped in to say hello, saying she was on a trip to visit friends. She had breakfast with him and his son while making a strange request that seemed completely out of the blue: She needed gas cans. Jodi also said she went to a Wal-Mart, where she bought another buy gas can for about $12, but later returned it. Authorities said there was no proof of such a return.

  Brewer lent her two 5-gallon containers, and she was on her way. To this day, Brewer has never fully explained why he provided her the cans, or if he asked her why she needed them in a state like California that is dotted with thousands of gas stations. Jodi also spent time with Matt McCartney on her trip, as he lived in the Monterrey area at the time.

  She kept driving south, to the Los Angeles area. She slept in her car when she got tired and eventually made it to an Arco station in Pasadena. She not only filled up the car, but also filled up the gas cans.

  A few hours later, Jodi’s cell phone went dead - no activity at all for more than 12 hours. This is a woman whose cell phone was practically attached to her hip; she was a prolific texter, she recorded entire conversations with her phone and even shot self-portraits during her road trip, but she says she misplaced her charger around the time she got to Arizona. Prosecutors say it’s a lie. They contend that she turned her phone off so that law enforcement could not track her whereabouts during her murderous trip through the Southwest.

  Jodi arrived at Travis’ house at about 4 a.m. on June 4. But this was not a normal trip where the traveler calls ahead and lets their friend know what time they are arriving. Jodi showed up completely unannounced, according to police. She says Travis begged her to come.

  She didn’t bother knocking on the door or ringing the doorbell.

  She knew his garage code - 0187 - so she opened the door and went into the house. She walked quietly, not knowing if Travis was sleeping or if his roommates were around. She crept up on Travis as he was in his office watching goofy YouTube videos of people with tin foil on their heads, oblivious to the fact that Jodi was there staring at him. She stood there for about 30 seconds, and finally called attention to her appearance.

  Travis was clearly surprised. But they had done this before, and Jodi had a good enough cover story about her road trip that it didn’t register to Travis what was really going on in her head.

  Over the next roughly 14 hours, the two would surf the Internet, nap and have sex, punctuated by her both taking nude photos of each other. She then killed him, hurriedly cleaned up the scene and got the hell out of there, leaving behind a gruesome scene that wouldn’t be found for five days. Yet she didn’t behave like a traumatized victim of a brutal attack. Instead, she continued on her unusual road trip and began working on an alibi.

  But her license plate was her first issue. Authorities say she removed the back plate at some point during her trip, presumably to avoid detection given the abundance of surveillance cameras along the route. In her haste to place the plate back on the car, she put it on upside down, prosecutors say. Jodi had a different story. She said that during a stop at a Starbucks, an unruly group of skateboarders messed with the plates.

  Jodi was still carrying the gun that she fired at Travis during their altercation. She said she dumped it in the desert somewhere, but only vaguely recalls any other details of the attack and aftermath.

  From there, it was on to Salt Lake City to see her budding love interest, Ryan Burns. Jodi met Ryan at a Prepaid Legal conference, and they struck up a long-distance relationship in their few months of knowing each other, exchanging hundreds of instant messages during lengthy Internet chats.

  Jodi was supposed to meet Burns in Salt Lake City sometime Wednesday — the same day she had just killed Travis. But by Wednesday night, when she still wasn’t there, he called her on her cell phone and it went straight to voicemail. He was a little worried; it was strange for her not to show up like that.

  He finally got a call from a disoriented and frazzled Jodi around 11 p.m. Wednesday. She had all sorts of excuses. She lost her cell phone charger, and then bought one at a gas station. She went the wrong way on the freeway and drove for several hours. She slept in her car. She finally showed up the next morning.

  Jodi was going to accompany Burns for a Prepaid Legal meeting, and she agreed to follow him in her rental car. After she pulled away from his house, Jodi saw the flashing lights on a police car. She was already jittery and now she was being confronted by a cop. Had she already been caught? Was he going to arrest her in Travis’ death?

  A West Jordan police officer walked up to the car. He started asking about why her license plate was upside down. Jodi explained it as a goof by her friends - they must have been playing a prank on her. She got off with a verbal warning.

  Later in the trip, Jodi and Ryan ended up in his bedroom. It got a little hot and heavy as they made out. He commented on her bandaged ha
nds as she caressed his body. He kissed her stomach, noticing that the “six-pack abs” she had been boasting in their Internet chats were no joke. When she climbed on top, he finally pulled back, telling her that as a Mormon, he couldn’t take it any further.

  Ryan said later that several things nagged at him during the sexually charged encounter.

  “What happened to your hands?”

  She said she cut them on a broken glass at her job at Margaritaville in California. She kept saying she had to get going to make it in time for her shift.

  Yet there’s not even a Margaritaville in Yreka. She did have a job in there, but at a different Mexican restaurant, so why lie?

  The visit was so quick, Ryan didn’t think much of it. Jodi stayed a little while longer and finally headed back home to return the rental car.

  She gassed up in Winnemucca, Nev., got some food at an In-N-Out Burger and dropped off the car at the Redding airport. She had put 2,834 miles on the car.

  A few things seemed out of place for the Budget staff. Jodi was supposed to be taking a local trip, but traveled nearly 3,000 miles. She rented the car as a blonde, but returned it as a brunette. She had changed her appearance.

  The car had some suspicious signs as well. The worker noticed red stains on all the seats - he thought it might be Kool-Aid. And all of the floor mats were gone.

  Chapter 11

  ‘Her Name Is Jodi’

  Many murder cases require months of stealth detective work to determine the culprit. It’s never as easy as it seems on TV, where cases are conveniently solved by the end of an hour-long “Law and Order” or “CSI” episode.

  But in the death of Travis, it took only minutes to pinpoint Jodi as a prime suspect.

  The new woman in Travis’ life, Mimi Hall, helped figure it out. It was just days before their trip to Cancun and she hadn’t heard a word. She repeatedly texted him, but heard nothing back. Calls went straight to voicemail. She was scared for Travis, even more so when she heard from friends that some mysterious woman was stalking him. The days came and went.

  Here it was, one day before their trip and she hadn’t heard a peep from him. Something was up.

  Friends and work colleagues of Travis were also puzzled. The first sign of trouble came at 7 p.m. on the evening he was killed. It was an hour and a half after Jodi jabbed a knife in his heart and shot him in the head, and Travis was supposed to lead an important conference call for Prepaid Legal.

  Chris Hughes, a Prepaid Legal colleague and one of Travis’ best friends, was scheduled to be on it, but Travis never called in. In the next few days, Travis’ cell phone was flooded with text messages and voicemails, from friends, roommates, and even Jodi as she concocted her alibi.

  Mimi decided she had to go to Travis’ home in Mesa. She was so worried that she called her mother on the drive over to calm her nerves.

  She arrived at the home and repeatedly pounded on the door and rang the doorbell. She saw his pug-mix dog Napoleon excitedly jumping up and down at the entryway, but no sign of Travis.

  She went home and emailed Travis. Her fears grew with each minute. She then contacted her friend Michelle Lowery and they went to his house again, this time around 10 p.m. They knocked together. Nothing.

  They reached out to more of Travis’ friends and finally tracked down one who had the code to his garage.

  They typed it into the keypad — 0187. As they made their way into the house, a foul stench quickly overpowered them.

  By the time they got to his bedroom, it was clear that something bad had happened. Blood was on the floors, the smell even more powerful.

  In the bathroom, there he was: Travis’ bloated, naked corpse stuffed into his shower. Mimi frantically dialed 911.

  “Oh my god,” she said in a panicked voice.

  “What’s going on?” the female dispatcher said.

  “A friend of ours is dead in his bedroom,” she said.

  The dispatcher scrambled officers to the home and assured Mimi and her friends that help was on the way.

  The dispatcher kept Mimi on the line as officers sped toward the scene, getting as much information as she could about how Travis could have died such a horrible death.

  “Has he been depressed at all? Thinking of committing suicide, anything like that?” the dispatcher asked.

  “He’s been really depressed because he broke up with this girl. And he was all upset about that, but I don’t think he’d actually kill himself over that,” Mimi said.

  “Had he been threatened by anybody recently?”

  “Yes, he has. He has an ex-girlfriend that’s been bothering him and following him and slashing his tires and things like that.”

  “And do you know the ex-girlfriend’s name?”

  Mimi couldn’t remember the name of the supposed stalker. She just knew that Travis was having some relationship issues. She asked her friends who had accompanied her to the house, and someone in the background chimed in. And then came the damning moment.

  “Her name is Jodi,” Mimi said.

  There it was. Just a few minutes into the call, with police not even at the scene, and friends armed with just a few basic details about Travis’ recent troubles had pinpointed a suspect.

  “OK, so last weekend, his stalker, he told her never wanted to see her again. Had a big confrontation. And that’s all we know,” Mimi told the dispatcher.

  The call ended shortly after. Police may not have known it yet, but they had their prime suspect.

  Mimi’s next days, and those of the others who discovered the body, were filled with horror and confusion, grilling by police and questions about what occurred, with the thoughts of Jodi always on their minds.

  A few days later, Mimi attended Travis’ memorial service at his Mormon temple in Mesa. Among the crowd of mourners, one woman stood out.

  “Are you Mimi Hall?” the stranger said in introducing herself.

  “I’m Jodi Arias.”

  Chapter 12

  The Investigation

  “You won’t answer my calls, you change your number. I mean, I’m not gonna be ignored, Dan!” -‘Fatal Attraction’

  Many killers do things in predictable and secretive ways to cover their tracks. They go underground. They flee to Mexico or some extradition-free country. They try to keep their mouths shut and most definitely do nothing to arouse suspicion.

  Not Jodi. She had to be part of it, still, even after his death, drawn to Travis and everything that involved him.

  Mesa police Detective Esteban “Steve” Flores got the call just as he had begun analyzing the horrific scene. It was message from a woman named Jodi Arias who wanted to inquire about the killing.

  Flores went on to pull an all-nighter and got sidetracked with the immediate demands of the scene. He is a soft-spoken veteran police detective, a stout man known for his careful, methodical work at every crime scene.

  The next day, he got another message from the same woman. Jodi definitely wasn’t hiding.

  In fact, she was overly chatty. It was the first installment in her ever-shifting alibis.

  She inquired about the crime, offered her assistance, asked about the murder weapon and described her relationship with Travis, all largely unsolicited information.

  She provided all sorts of little clues and tidbits about Travis and his home. He had a king-size bed, maybe it was a California king, she said. He slept on Egyptian cotton sheets.

  Jodi told Flores she looked back at her phone records to see the last time she spoke to Travis. She described how he’d never lock the doors, and how she gave him grief about it.

  “Maybe you can’t talk about this but was there any kind of weapon used? Was there a gun?” she asked, fishing for anything to find out if the authorities were onto her.

  Yes, Flores said, but he didn’t tip his hand. He asked her if Travis had a gun or any weapons in his house. “His two fists,” she said.

  Despite everyone pointing to Jodi from the minute the body was discover
ed, police proceeded at a deliberate pace before actually putting her in handcuffs about a month later.

  All of Travis’ friends saw her as the prime suspect from the minute police affixed yellow tape to the perimeter of the property and began examining the bathroom and house for forensic clues.

  But Flores and his colleagues still had a lot of work to do to build the case; the foundation was there with Jodi as a possible culprit, but they had to build a house on top of the foundation.

  Police quickly interviewed Mimi Hall and Travis’ two roommates, Enrique Cortez and Zachary Billings, to make sure none of them had a particular beef with Travis.

  Investigators thought it was odd that his roommates had no idea Travis’ bloated corpse was stuffed into the shower in the days after Jodi killed him. A stench from the body was present throughout the house, but Zachary and Enrique didn’t think much of it and were so busy with their jobs, church and girlfriends that they weren’t home much anyway.

  Enrique remembered smelling it, but it was a bachelor pad. For all he knew, Travis left some dirty dishes in his room before he went to Mexico. They never imagined that the smell came from his decomposing body just a few feet away behind Travis’ bedroom door.

  Leads and tips started coming in to police. They had to chase down each one and cross them off their list, a time-consuming task for the handful of officers working the case.

  One anonymous caller phoned police to say they needed to look at a man named Dustin Thompson.

  Dustin and his wife Ashley, an employee at a Dillard’s distribution center, were seeing their marriage fall apart, and Ashley was friends with Travis. She had known him for about three years and had visited his house to watch UFC matches on a Wednesday night in May.

  The caller notified police that Dustin somehow knew about the killing the day the body was discovered and went to the house to see what was going on with all the officers at the scene.