I am making this complaint public because I've found I have better safety when I make things public and it's possible for anyone to read about what really happened. My keeping things secret or confidential has allowed others to do me further harm without notice:
Dear OIG,
I first contacted you about 3 years ago. I was told what I was sharing was of concern and to put my complaint into writing. I emailed with someone from OIG's website. I didn't have a chance to get my complaint out because I was in the middle of having my car vandalized, house broken into, and mail disturbances. This kind of activity had been going on, against my property, for years since I had filed lawsuits against organizations founded by the Catholic Church. There is a connection between my legal matters and 2 FBI individuals who sexually assaulted me. Please allow me to detail the facts to let you decide for yourself. I am asking the OIG to please investigate as I believe my life and the life of my son have been affected by certain individuals within the FBI, perhaps in concert with others as well.
At first, I had been led to believe, by the FBI, that what happened was only "internal misconduct" of a nature of "abuse of position", however, I later found out what had occured was a crime, and that because I was sexually assaulted while under the influence, the crime was one which, if convicted, would require these men to register as sex offenders. When I attempted to press charges, the Sgt. in charge colluded with the FBI Portland field office officials to prevent me from pressing charges and asked me to change my story, and omit facts and then wrote a statement for me, without my consent, and had the case dismissed with no input from me. I believe this intimidation of a victim and attempt to conceal and cover crime amounts to obstruction of justice. As a result of my attempts to get accountability, I experienced undue harasment, profiling by police, and other problems.
Jerod Garth with the Portland FBI told me not to bother contacting the Department of Justice, because, he said, they'd already contacted D.C. offices and D.C. told the FBI to handle the matter themselves when they asked if it should be referred to someone else for investigation.
Individuals I had contact with, directly or indirectly, from the FBI include:
Portland, Oregon field office:
Laurie McLaughlin
Julia Thorton
Bob (need last name)
S.A. Krouger
Jerod Garth
John Doe 1 (S.S.A. from Washington D.C. or East Coast who interviewed me)
Don Pryzbyla (S.S.A. from San Diego, California area)
New York field office:
John Doe 2 (NY father or stepfather to Karine, Stephanie Maiers' friend)
John Doe 3 (A "whittemore", possibly with FBI)
Semi-retired FBI agent:
Rick Baken
Chris Dabney?
Mike Tancer?
Others involved:
Portland Police, specifically, Sgt. Rich Austria
Portland Prosecuting Attorney's office and Victims Advocacy
Facts:
I first become involved with the FBI in 2003 or 2004, when I called to report an organization which I believed was involved in consumer fraud. This organization was named "The Professional Liability Fund" (hereafter known as the "PLF") and was/is connected to the Oregon State Bar. I was not the only one to make a report, I was told by an FBI employee, who contacted me by telephone and asked me some questions, telling me my report was the most "cogent" of complaints received. This man who called me tried to discourage me, and said there was no fraud, however, many persons from the public and some journalists believed the PLF was guilty of fraud and that it warranted investigation. After this man called me, I put forth another query to S.A. Krouger, asking about employment with the FBI. I was interested in either investigative work or being a lawyer. I had told my friends that I planned to apply to be a lawyer for the FBI, after I finished my undergraduate work and went to law school. My GPA was good enough and getting better over time, and I did well enough on practice LSATs to believe I could get into a first tier law school. This was my plan, and I wanted to fight corporate crime. I decided this was what I wanted to do after I had had to file my own complaints against the Mt. Angel Abbey and Portland Archdiocese as well as the Willamette Week (newspaper).
After I had contacted the FBI for both the PLF fraud and for employment, I met an FBI special agent in a courthouse. I do not believe it was coincidence but a set-up organized by a woman who had posed as a friend to me for several years, all the while giving information about my legal plans to Abbey and Archdiocese attorneys.
After I told her, Christa Schneider, that I wanted to join the FBI and had made a report with them, I met FBI agent Raul Bujanda.
On the day that I met Bujanda, I had told Christa what my itinerary for the day was going to be. I told her I had a hearing at District Court and that if I lost, I was walking directly over to the Federal Courthouse (one or two blocks away) to file something with the Federal Court. I lost the hearing that morning, and walked to the federal courthouse. Raul Bujanda entered the building after me, but walked ahead of me to get through security. He stalled in collecting his things from the security scan as I was telling the guards where I was going and then Bujanda departed for the elevator. I ended up in the same elevator and asked Bujanda if he was a lawyer. He said no and gave me his FBI card, which stated he was a special agent. He followed me to the 10th floor and told me he wanted to meet me for coffee.
He wrote three different numbers on the back of his business card: his home phone number, his cell number, and an alternate work number. He asked me what I was doing at the courthouse that day and when I told him I was filing something he asked what it was. I was vague. I didn't hear the elevator doors close behind me until the clerk answered my ring by intercom. Bujanda had told me he was "late" to a meeting at this courthouse but that the FBI was used to it. I had told Christa at least several days to a week before this date, about my plans to file something in the federal courthouse if I lost a hearing at district court. I believe someone told Bujanda to follow me to the courthouse and see if I talked to him. I talked to everyone, so it was more than likely I would strike up conversation with him, as I did often, with total strangers.
I felt it was peculiar that I was meeting an FBI special agent, just a week after telling Christa that after all the harassment and problems I'd had in the last few years, my last "dream" was to join the FBI and fight corporate crime. I said I wanted to make sure churches were held to the same standards as other companies, when it came to sexual abuse of children or adults and that I wanted to work to be sure there were no "confidentiality privileges" extended to churches for concealing crimes, especially those crimes against children. As Christa had a part in making sure the Abbey lawyers were a step ahead of me, I believe it was malicious planning to have me "coincidentally" meet someone from the FBI and have problems with some of them, which would make it difficult for me to be in the FBI in the longrun.
I met Bujanda for coffee at a Starbucks near his workplace, near the FBI offices. He wanted to move to another location, where we were alone. We sat at a table where Bujanda told me he worked as an agent to "infiltrate the Mexican Mafia". He said he had wanted to bring his "boss" with him but didn't want to intimidate me. I didn't know why he wanted to bring his boss to meet me.
When I left, Bujanda said he wanted to date me and gave me a kiss. He had been calling me and leaving messages on my machine since we'd met in the courthouse. When I finally called him back, or answered a call, the next time, it was at night and he said he was off work and wanted to come over. I had not invited him over and I said I wasn't comfortable meeting him at my house but I could meet him in a public place. He kept trying to persuade me to let him come over.
Around this time, I had been dating someone who I now believe may have also had some connection to the Abbey attorneys. He was very exasperated when I wouldn't let him in my house the last time we'd gone out--I was putting closure on my relationship with him and didn't want him over. Because there were so many leaks during my litigation, I believe it was probably a combination of information Christa passed on and possibly that my house was bugged as well, and I had very good, concrete reason to believe this might be true, when every single plan I made was strangely pre-empted by the Abbey as if they knew exactly what motions I was making next and at what time, what courthouse, and what day. There was no other explanation for it. Not even the best psychic could make guesses like this.
I met Bujanda at a parking lot near Burger King, near Terwilliger Blvd. in Portland, Oregon, near the Fred Meyers. Bujanda had told me he was in a van and had to return a van, but when I got there, there were just two sedans in the parking lot. One was at one end, with two people watching me in my car as I approached the other car which had tinted windows and was a sort of glittery or metallic dark color. Bujanda was in the car and he asked me to get into his car. I parked my own car and got into his car. (INSERT INFORMATION ABOUT PRAYER CARDS OF SAINTS IN THE CAR) We started talking and he asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I told him I was planning to finish college on a strong note, apply to law school, and then try to join the FBI through the lawyer referral program since I didn't have any special skills like knowledge of an obscure foreign language. He then kissed me but something was off about it. He wasn't into it, as if he was holding back for some reason or just acting. I think it was an act. I noticed about 3 different CBs or walkie talkies in his car and he used one to communicate with his supervisor for that night, "Bill". Bujanda said this was his car, but it was clear it was not his car. He didn't know how to operate the radio system and shrugged it off, claiming someone had screwed around with the stereo when he'd last loaned his car out. He also flipped a switch on the roof of the car back and forth and said someone had messed with the lights. He said some people thought it was a police car or something but he had to get things fixed. So then Bujanda had to return "the van" as Bill said he needed to do, or was doing, and Bujanda walked me out of the car and then did this dramatic kiss move, which I thought was a show for the car with people watching us, because he hadn't been like that in the car. I had asked him, in the car, "Are these your people?" pointing to the people in the other car and he said no.
He said he'd called me and then he was calling me a lot but I was busy, working on my cases which I'd filed. I felt often that the other side wanted to distract me from my work, and I wondered if some of the men coming my way were attempts to get someone in to do just this--distract me. I also noticed Christa called in the middle of the most important and busy times when I had deadlines to follow, and wanted me to go out then. I almost always declined, and stuck to my work. I put work over pleasure, almost 100% of the time.
I left maybe one message on Bujanda's work machine and that was it, to my recollection. Bujanda called me up and said he wanted to go out and did I have a friend to invite for his "boss" to meet? Bujanda told me his boss wanted to meet me. I couldn't find a friend that late of notice, so I said, if his boss wanted to meet me, why couldn't the three of us just go out? so he said okay. I told him and another friend I was going for a run and then I'd call when I was getting ready. I lived next to a track and walked over for my run.
A woman parked in a red VW after I was there. No one was there except the two of us and she started walking next to me and kept asking me questions about my relationships and what I thought of the guy I was dating and told me her boyfriend lived in San Diego but they had a long distance relationship that worked.
I forgot, she said this, because I'd told her Bujanda had been out of town and called me, when he'd had to go to San Diego for work. Bujanda said it was for a psych eval and he called me a few times, from one hotel and then another. He said the eval went fine although he was completely abnormal in one aspect, but that it was excused because it helped him to be good at his job.
This woman who was walking with me on the track was very fit and looked like she worked out a lot, it was clear. I had a feeling she somehow knew Bujanda and had been sent to ask questions, to feel me out about what I was thinking and where my mind was at. She asked a lot of questions.
Then I was home and getting ready, and was running late. Bujanda said he and Armando Garza, whom he called his "boss" were at Berbatti's. I was at least a half hour late and when I arrived, they were drinking beer from bottles. I was introduced to Garza, Bujanda's "boss". Garza showed me his driver's license, and I said it looked like a mug shot. I didn't see Bujanda's license but I showed them mine.
Bujanda had already told me over the phone, he knew some information about me. He rattled off my birthdate, place of birth, and a bunch of other personal identification things. I asked him how he knew all these things and he said most of it was public information.
Bujanda ordered a vodka soda for me. After I drank it, and we were joking around about something, Garza said to Bujanda, that it was so cute that I was already drunk after only one drink. I felt tipsy but I didn't know whether I was "drunk or not". They ordered another drink for me and had another round for themselves. The waitress came over and asked them if they wanted to submit entries to a lotto for a chance to get into the Playboy Mansion. They were both eager to do this and readily agreed, diligently and carefully filling out the forms and passing them back. Then they started talking about the FBI and said it was better than the CIA and told me what they did. Armando talked about his undergraduate and graduate work but didn't say what his position was with the FBI. I started to get nervous, and I said, "Are you guy trying to recruit me?" Garza looked over at Bujanda and said, "Yes, we're looking for the right woman for our operations." I felt nervous and used the restroom, after Bujanda said if I wanted to know what the FBI was really like, to watch the movie, "In Too Deep". At some point, they wanted to do shots of tequila. I'd never had shots before and didn't even drink much so I told them only if they could get me home safely, because my car was in a garage and I couldn't drive if I did shots with them. I figured it was like "business bonding" in a sense, if they were recruiting me for the FBI, and that it would be rude to decline. I also figured, since they were both Mexian, it was sort of traditional. So I did and they ordered 2, possibly 3 rounds of shots, and I know that I've never been more drunk than I was that night. It is the only time where someone had to lead me by my arm because I couldn't really see where I was going as I had a kind of tunnel vision. I didn't know it would affect me this way. Before we left though, Garza and Bujanda went into the small men's bathroom together and were in there for awhile. Bujanda and Garza paid for my drinks by separate credit cards which they both had on them.
We were dancing at Bar 71 which was down the road from Berbatti's. I was completely drunk and couldn't even dance. Bujanda passed me off to Garza who kept groping my butt and I asked him not to and kept moving his hand up and then I said where was Bujanda and we should find him. Garza said he was fine. Then I was with Bujanda and I asked him what was going on, because he'd been interested in me but then he was passing me off to his boss. He said he was interested but Garza was even more interested. I was too drunk to process anything. We were going home then and they seemed to know exactly where they were going, only asking for directions after they were already almost to my house.
Something that alarmed me, was how Garza kept making comments to me that were quotations of things I'd said to Mike Tancer, a guy I'd dated before meeting Bujanda and Garza. Tancer had thought it was hilarious once when I said something about a melt-in-your-mouth tylenol tablet being "smoooth" and Garza repeated this same thing, looking at me and saying, "No, it's smmooooth!" and cracked up. He made several references to things I'd said when I was with Mike Tancer. I'd met Mike Tancer at a dance club and dated him briefly. I had told Tancer I wanted to join the FBI and he jolted and asked if I was FBI. I said no, but I was planning on joining. Tancer was from California and his family owned a vineyard, "Iron Horse" vineyards. Tancer was also driving cars which he said were not his car and were being borrowed. I don't know what his normal car was because we were always in someone else's car, and I don't know why when it wasn't like he needed to borrow one and he had plenty of money.
I wondered how Armando Garza was so familiar with conversations I'd had with Mike Tancer. Either Tancer knew them, or someone knew of my conversations with him, or Tancer had been under surveillance. Tancer had taken me to an art showing once and said he could get me Vicodin or whatever I needed and that the after parties were good and had quality stuff. I got the hint that there were good quality drugs like cocaine or something at these parties but his friends nixed me and we didn't go. One of the friends I was introduced to was one of the Heinz ketchup heirs. He was wearing an atrocious white linen suit with a grizzly adams scruff look and had a large vagina made out of some kind of cones up on the wall for display. For my part, I had been very interested in Tancer, but was busy with the legal stuff and not ready to divide my time for anyone, but I was attracted to him both physically and intellectually. I didn't know if he was involved with anyone else I met after that, or knew someone who knew me before I met him.
Because of all the comments that Garza made, I figured he either knew Tancer or knew someone who knew him. I was drunk, but trying to figure things out even drunk, such as why was I being recruited by the FBI, and for what? and I knew they knew I was interested in employment with the agency so they knew I would take them seriously. I'd also written an email to the FBI about employment, to S.A. Krouger, to pass on to whomever was in charge of these things. But there was some kind of romantic element too, so I didn't know what the purpose was really.
When we reached my apartment I said they could just drop me off. They didn't want to and said they wanted to walk me up to the bathroom. I said no it was alright but they insisted and Garza got out with me as Bujanda was parking the car. They walked up the stairs to the apartment with me and I said thank you and goodnight but they kept pressuring me to let them in. I kept saying no and they kept pressuring me, with Garza putting his hand over my hand with the key in the lock and trying to open the door for me. I finally said fine, but make it fast, because Garza was claiming he had to use the bathroom. So they both got into my house by coercion, basically, when I was completely drunk and they knew I was drunk because they had observed this and commented on it after I'd had only ONE drink, which was before the tequila shots.
I trusted Bujanda and Garza because they were FBI and I expected them to be professional and be serving the interests of the public. Not only that, they knew I was interested in working with the FBI and they told me they WERE recruiting me. I didn't know why else I would be meeting Bujanda's "boss" if I were not being recruited. I felt it was reasonable for me to trust them when I had met Bujanda in a federal courthouse and he showed me his business card, and I called his work number verifying his workplace, and then I had also been in communication with him for long enough to believe he was a safe person. I had no reason to disbelieve Garza was his boss, and when I spoke with Garza, I could tell he must have an influential position by his speech as he came across as being highly educated, articulate, and sharp. Before I agreed to take shots with them, I told them I didn't drink much and I hadn't done shots before so if I did, would they first promise to get me home safely? I asked this question of Bujanda, looking into his eyes. Bujanda looked directly into my eyes and nodded and said, yes, I could trust them to get me home safely. Receiving this promise and on account of their positions, I believed I was not in danger of harm or exploitation.
I do not remember if Garza used the bathroom or not, but I believe he did. This is the only detail I cannot remember for sure. I know I walked over to my couch, took off my heels and then Bujanda was sitting on one side and Garza was on my other side. I offered them a glass of water and Garza said sure and then Bujanda got his own glass himself. I was talking with them, and then they both began kissing me on the neck.
I later thought this was maybe odd, because both the boyfriend I'd had before I met them, and the female friend who I later discovered was never a friend but only informing for the Abbey lawyers, had asked me what my turn ons were. My boyfriend, when he realized I was breaking up with him, asked me about 70 questions, about people in my family, my friends, what kind of cars I liked best and what would I choose if I were picking out my own car, and what was something that turned me on so I couldn't resist. It was a little strange. I felt he was gathering information for a reason, not for his own pure interest. I kept asking him why he wanted to know and he shrugged it off as "wanting to get to know you" better. I noted that I had told him I didn't know what a turn on might be and when he pressured me for an answer I said, just to say something, "I don't know? Being kissed on the neck?" He wanted a second thing I found irresistable and I said, "I DON'T KNOW! I like everything...Okay, maybe a hand on my knee or leg or something." My boyfriend wanted to confirm these were correct and I wondered why. He did have a cell phone with him at all times and I don't know if he was recording things or letting someone listen in or not. In response to his question about what kind and color of car I'd like most, I told him I'd probably get a VW Passat, in a classic color like white, black, gold, or something. He pressured me to choose one color and I said, "Okay, maybe black."
When Bujanda and Garza walked me out of the dance club, Bujanda said, "Look, Armando has a black Passat." I said, "So?" and wondered why he was pointing this out as if I cared what kind of car he drove.
I also noticed that when both Garza and Bujanda decided to make their moves on me, both of them went for my neck. Right after I'd given my answer to "what is most irresistable to you?" as being "kissed on the neck". At the same time that Bujanda and Garza leaned in to kiss me on the neck, they each put their hands on my knee and thigh. It was like they were following a manual my ex-boyfriend had given them. Also, I thought it strange my friend Christa asked identical questions, as if getting validation what I told my ex was true.
(go back and include the part about the prayer card of saints bujanda had in the car with him and then in his pocket later and what he said about the medallion)--ex boyfriend who asked all the questions: Jonathan ______. lived down the road from me and went to Oregon State University, majoring in nutrition and planning to go to medical school. was Jewish and lived with his mother the summer break from college and his went out with his sister. met him at a club when i told Christa I was going out and she asked where and i met him there bc no one was hardly there, about 6 or 10 people at most. he was one of very few guys and i stuck up conversation with his sister first when they kept looking in my direction. i had wondered from the start if they were there because christa knew someone who told him to be there, and then later all his questions were matching her questions and she always pumped me for info. i had first assumed that if he was jewish he couldn't be connected to the catholic church lawyers and christa.)
Instead of going back, I'll just add here, to what I wrote earlier and then move forward and mabye edit later.
When I got into the car, the one that Bujanda was driving, I noticed that besides the mulitple walkie-talkies, there was a prayer card of Jesus. It was like a Catholic saint card and I saw that it was an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, with the heart on fire thing. It was on my side of the car, but facing Bujanda, wedged into the vent or a crevas in the dash. I said to him, direct quote, "You have Jesus!" and he laughed and then repeated, "You have Jesus". As I was reaching for it he told me not to move it but I'd already taken hold and pulled it out. He really didn't want me to touch it.
(I just wrote a long paragraph about this and then tried to post and I got disconnected for the first time all day today and it's been lost so I have to re-write this)
I had already pulled it out and so I tried to put it back but it went back in facing either him or me, I actually don't remember if it was facing him first or facing me but it went back the opposite way. Bujanda told me, either then or over the phone, that he always wore a medallion of St. Jude and it had saved him many times. I told Christa that I doubted him and wondered why he even told me this and made a point of it when I had never seen him wearing a chain of any kind around his neck, which would hold a medallion. I kept telling her, "Why would he tell me this when he didn't even wear one?" She said she didn't know. The next time I saw Bujanda, I asked him to show me his medallion and he told me he didn't have it on right then but he did have a prayer card with him. It was a prayer card of St. Jude and was laminated, unlike the Jesus prayer card. It looked brand new like he'd just bought it or recieved it. It wasn't worn. I later thought it was a little odd because he didn't strike me as overly religious but didn't think it was that big of deal until later.
I also found out later that Bujanda was married at the time, but he had never worn a ring and I asked him if he'd ever been married before and he said "No". He told me he was not married but I found out later he was. I thought I was dating a single man who had never been married.
(I just typed more and I got disconnected again and lost everything).
Back to the couch, I was sitting inbetween them and they both started kissing me and touching me. I stood straight up and said, "What's going ON?!" They took my hand or something, to sit down again and said "nothing, nothing. Sit down. Nothing is going on."
The rest of this scenario is going to sound strange, but two things to take into account are: 1. I was beyond intoxicated and extremely drunk, and 2. I was very naive with regard to sexual things even though I was 30 years old, most of my life I'd been totally celibate, waiting for marriage, and had only had a couple of boyfriends, following what happened with the Abbey and litigation.
To get an idea of how drunk I was, I never drank at all, until I was about 28 or 29 and then it was only one drink on a Friday night, with Christa. After awhile, I could tolerate maybe 2 and at the most, 3 drinks over a long night, dancing until about 4 a.m. in the morning. I would be intoxicated the entire time, even though it wasn't that much. It was very rare that I had 3 drinks, from 10-4 a.m. so it didn't take much. When I went out with Bujanda and Garza, they commented that it was cute I was drunk after one vodka-soda. Garza made the comment and Bujanda looked at me and laughed and they were correct because I'd been telling a story and made a sort of swooping head movement I remember, but I thought I was just "buzzed". I had at least one more vodka-soda after that because Bujanda got one and then Garza got one and they paid for them on separate credit cards. Then, they paid for rounds of tequila and I had at least 2 rounds, and possibly 3. I sort of think 3 but I can't remember and I didn't know how strong shots were because it was the first time in my life I'd done shots of any kind. With Bujanda and Garza. All of these drinks were drunk by me between probably 9-12 p.m. I had nothing but a couple pieces of calimari to eat. We left the Bar 71 before midnight, if I recall correctly, because I remember these guys left my house, eventually at about 1:30 or 2. So I was smashed and they knew it and not once did I make a suggestive comment to them or indicate I was interested in anything more than meeting the boss and "bonding" over drinks. Garza made a suggestive comment once and I discouraged it. I slapped his face lightly and Bujanda cracked up laughing and Garza was laughing.
Also, after I was already intoxicated, at Berbatti's, Bujanda said something to Garza about being in trouble the next day because he saw someone who saw them there. They also started asking eachother where "Scotty" was, and it was the first I'd heard there was going to be a third guy joining us but Scotty never showed up.
I didn't know anyone by the name Scotty but Mike Tancer had asked me once, when I was at his house in Portland, before I met Bujanda and Garza, if I liked some various names and he listed some ideas for male baby names and asked if I liked the name "Patrick" and "Scotty" and he named a few other names. I had only heard of a Scotty through Tancer and I had met a Mt. Angel police officer whose first name was "Scott" and that was it.
Also, on the night at Berbatti's I was getting my routine migraine. I asked the guys if they had any Advil and told them I was getting a migraine. Which is part of the reason we left Bar 71 early, aside from the fact that it was pointless to try to dance with me because I was a rag doll. This was not a "habit" for me and I trusted these guys. So my migraine was getting worse through the night although I thought maybe alcohol would dull the pain. It didn't. When I got to my apartment, I took 2 5 mg. Vicodin because the pain was so bad. Both Bujanda and Garza saw it and I had nothing to hide. I had leftover Vicodin from migraine treatment and prescription.
I will get into S.A. Julia Thornton later, but would like to make note of it now, that when I told her this, instead of faulting the FBI guys for what they'd done, knowing I was totally under the influence of both alcohol and prescription drugs, she attacked ME, saying, "You know, your use of narcotics could preclude you from employment with the FBI." I told her, "These were prescription drugs and I have documented MIGRAINES." She kept trying to put this off onto me.
(just got disconnected again and lost stuff I have to rewrite)
I said to Thornton, "You know, it was one of your guys who asked me for "reefer"" and Julia looked uncomfortable. Garza had asked me, direct quote: "Do you have any reefer?" while in my apartment. I didn't know what he was asking for because I wasn't familiar with drug nicknames. Bujanda said: "Don't answer that." When I asked what reefer was, Garza said, "You know, bud, weed..." and I said, "I already TOLD you guys I've never done any drugs in my life. No, I don't have any marijuana."
So, I was completely drunk and I did NOT know what was going on. I was trying to process what was going on, totally smashed. I was confused because Bujanda had had an interest in me that was romantic, but then he and Garza were telling me I was being recruited to work for the FBI when they knew I had already expressed an interest in the FBI, to others and through an email to the Portland field office, through S.A. Krouger.
After they told me to sit down, they both leaned in and started kissing me again, on the neck and both of them put their hands on me. One of them put his hand on my breasts and the other put his hand on my thigh and slid it up to my crotch. I believe it was Garza who put his hand on my breast and Garza put his hand on my crotch. I stood up again and said "WHAT is going ON???!!!" and they laughed and said "nothing". It happened I think two or three times and then I stood away from them, moving out of the way, and they said "Do you want us to go" and I said, drunkenly, "No, I want you to tell me what's on FIRST." I thought I could get them to make some kind of confession as to what this whole thing was about.
Also, when they came into my apartment, Bujanda went through my entire apartment, looking behind things, along the desk, under things, and in the kitchen, he looked behind my refrigerator. I wondered why he was looking behind my refrigerator. It was like he was looking for something. I felt, later, they had wanted to get into my apartment for more than just sexually assaulting me, but to find something, and I believe it is possible my place was bugged, and knowing I was going to be moving out, wanted to remove whatever was there, right after I'd lost the major hearing for my litigation against the Mt. Angel Abbey. My ex, Jonathan, had been very determined to get back into my apartment when I broke up with him, and maybe if he had been in on something, they decided it would be easier to send someone else.
So then, when I was asking for an answer, and saying why had they said they were recruiting me to work for the FBI...Garza looked over at my guitar and said did I play guitar and to play some songs for them. It sounds stupid, but I was drunk, and I couldn't think clearly and did as they asked. Then Garza told me to sit back down by them and I did, with my guitar. As I was playing, Garza put his hand down my back and pulled out the back of my jeans, and told Bujanda to look and he pulled on my G-string. I told them to knock it off. Finally I was passing out, and leaning agaisnt Bujanda who put his hands underneath my shirt and touched my breasts. I had never allowed him to touch me in any intimate place when I was sober. Not once had I allowed him to touch me and all we'd done in the past was kiss, barely.
When Bujanda had his hands under my shirt, Garza had his cell phone out, facing me. I thought later they had taken photos. I said I was going to bed, and left for my bedroom and Bujanda said he'd go with me. I was too tired and out of it. So I laid down and then Bujanda was lying down next to me and ran his hand across my body. I told him I wasn't going to have sex with him and I was going to sleep. Then I asked a couple questions. I asked him if he really infiltrated the Mexican mafia and he said yes, and said he was "known" in the office, as the guy who had turned his Dad in. He said everyone was really proud of him for turning in his father, who was the head of some big mob or mafia group, but he said, he felt "guilty" about it. He said his father was in prison because of his (Bujanda's) testimony. I asked about his mother and he laughed under his breath and said, "All I can say is she's a hard worker".
He started telling me, as if to impress me, that Garza was a "Fulbright scholar". I thought this was odd because I had just been telling my ex Jonathan and Christa, or just Christa, how I'd been impressed that one of my college professors, Michael Clark, was a "Fulbright scholar". They asked me if this ijmpressed me and I said yes because I found out more about what this meant and it was an accomplishment. So here was Bujanda bringing up how Garza was a Fulbright scholar. Then I asked if he was interested in me because what was going on and he said yes, but that Garza was more and that he (Bujanda) wasn't ready for a more serious relationship and thought maybe I was. I asked him what gave him that idea. I remember Garza kept saying, on the couch, that he was going to "marry" me and after several times, Bujanda said, "No he's not" and told Garza to shut up. Then I asked Bujanda what kind of women he'd been with in the past and he said usually "strong, traditional, Latina" women and said his last girlfriend, he was sure she'd been cheating on him and that she missed the money. He said it was hard to resist temptation in the FBI and not go to the other side and I said why would that be and he said because of the "money". Garza had had about 2 beers and then the shots. Maybe 3 beers. Bujanda had had maybe 2 beers and then coke, and one round of shots.
Oh, I forgot to mention the part where they both brought out their guns. Glocks. Both Bujanda and Garza were carrying loaded weapons on them when they went out with me and had them on their persons and I didn't know it until we were in my apartment. They'd been wearing holsters and were not checked at Berbattis or Bar 71.
When they were both sitting on my couch, I said I'd like to go shooting sometime and that I hadn't held a gun since I was a little girl, shooting a few pop cans. At this, Garza and Bujanda both produced guns, black revolvers that they called "glocks". Garza asked me if I wanted to hold one. I said okay but only if he took out the bullets first. Garza then opened the gun up, pulled up a cartridge or pulled it out, and he turned it around until he had emptied all of these bullets out. He had a whole round of bullets in the gun and Bujanda had his glock out as well. Bujanda didn't take the bullets out. Garza handed me a bullet. It was somewhat large, torpedo shaped, with a copper colored end in filigree design at the bottom. Then he handed me the gun.
Garza was showing me how to point and pull the trigger and he had me pointing down at the floor but I pointed towards the wall, just in case, because there was nothing beyond the wall except the woods and downstairs I had a neighbor.
Bujanda was especially interested in showing me how to use the gun. He reached over and corrected my grasp and he'd already told me he was left-handed and it was harder for him to do some things. He acted like he enjoyed showing me how to use the gun. He had said before he was in the FBI, he told me on my first date with him, that he'd been a high school teacher first and then he became a Border Patrol guy and then got tired of it and decided to apply to the FBI.
When I was lying down in my room, Bujanda tried to make a couple moves and I repeated I was not going to have sex with him and I gave him a backrub instead, which I know for a fact, I would NOT have done if I'd been sober. He said it was the best backrub he'd ever had and said, "Yeah! You know how to treat a man!" Every now and then, throughout that night, Bujanda would make references to Rocky movies. He said his friends told him he'd have nothing to say if he didn't use movie quotes. He drank a lot of Coke and always with a straw. He said his friends teased him about this habit and said it was an oral fixation.
I was falling asleep or passing out as the Vicodin and combo with the alcohol was taking effect and my migraine was settling down. It was a Friday night if I remember correctly and they'd met me after work, but got there late and then I got there even later.
I heard Bujanda get up and whispering in the other room and then after they were in my house for awhile, I heard them at the door which was right in front of me. They both went out, locking the door after them. Bujanda had said, while at Berbatti's, that he would help me get my car the next morning.
The next day I was still drunk even by morning and I called, asking about getting my car. Then as I was sobering up, I thought why the hell am I calling HIM? and began to realize what had happened was horribly wrong. I got scared then.
Another guy called me that same afternoon. Another friend of Christa's. Devin. The best friend of Christa's boyfriend, Ryan Barnes. He asked me if I was going to the BBQ that afternoon. I told him what had happened and said I felt used and I didn't even know if those guys were really FBI anymore. I said my car was in the garage in downtown Portland. He said he'd pick me up to get my car and then to follow him to his place.
I went to the BBQ but I could hardly speak to anyone. I just sat there at the end of the pool, unable to say anything and then finally telling this larger guy what had happened. I couldn't drink anything or eat anything. I knew that if they were FBI and I reported them, it was going to screw with my ability to be hired by the FBI and I'd be viewed differently. But I didn't know if they were even FBI because of what they'd done. I also called my old boyfriend I'd known for years, Robin Bechtold, and he acted pissed that I would report this. I couldn't believe my old friend was telling me NOT to report it.
I stayed at the BBQ until later that night and Devin wanted to have a nightcap and made some new kind of drink with a cocktail shaker. He'd done a lot of work on his own house and masonry for a fireplace outside by the pool, and I was talking about this. I made out with him but when he tried to take it further, I said to stop and he kept trying to get me to stay there and I kept telling him no and to let me go. So I left for my car and he said, "Wait! It's not safe for you to drive drunk!" and I spun around and yelled, "OH! But I'm sober enough for you to have sex with me?!!!" and pissed, kicked the gate open, got into my car, and spit gravel peeling out of his driveway. I then noticed he lived a few houses away from Dick Whittemore, one of the main Abbey lawyers.
I burst into tears while driving home and knew there was some connection with what had happened with the "FBI" guys and my litigation and all of this was totally "off". I was scared then and decided I was moving out of the state. I realized it was not coincidence I just happened to meet FBI right after telling Christa and others I wanted to join FBI. I knew my chances of getting into the FBI were screwed with at that point as well. I had already had the Willamette Week write a totally slanderous article about me and I knew Bujanda and Garza would point to this and claim this was factual and that there was something wrong with ME. I didn't have any proof Christa was totally involved or that it was just my place had been bugged but I had a bad feeling about her.
I told Christa I was moving to Wenatchee in the next 6 months before I'd ever met Bujanda. I told Bujanda and Garza too, and they were familiar with Wenatchee and Bujanda told me he'd done some work in Wenatchee.
I reported these guys to the FBI Portland field office a couple days later, after I first checked with Granny about whether or not they were really FBI. Granny told me her neighbor, Rick Baken, was semi-retired FBI and that his wife Claudia, had said she could check for us as to whether these guys were actually FBI employees or not, through a database. So I waited until they had checked and someone got back to me about it. I learned it was true. Both Bujanda and Garza were with the FBI. Baken said the proper thing to do was to contact the Assistant Special Agent in Charge, who was Laurie McLaughlin (I think that was her last name).
I asked to speak to her, and had a hard time getting her to take my call until I mentionaed another FBI employee had instructed me that SHE was who I needed to make my report to. Laurie wasn't going to take my report at all. I actually called Granny again and told her and she told Claudia and they thought it was odd Laurie was putting me off. Finally, when I got Laurie, she was curt and cold with me and actually, very condescending and rude and told me she'd send someone else to talk to me. She told me to go to the FBI office and I said I did NOT want to go to the FBI offices because I was afraid of Bujanda and Garza and didn't want to go to their office and have people see me there. So she finally said she'd have S.A. Julia Thornton meet me at a Starbucks where I'd met Bujanda once on one of my coffee dates with him. A Starbucks off of Terwilliger Blvd., up the road from the Fred Meyer and the Burger King where I'd met Bujanda on another occasion. I'd had coffee on another occasion there, with Bujanda, and had noticed he had an expression on his face, while looking at me, like he didn't like me at all, but when he saw me look at him, changed his facial expression.
So I met Julia Thornton there. She told me it amounted to an internal matter and she told me not to tell anyone who was police. I told her I'd told one female police officer who said I should definitely report it and Thornton looked nervous. She wanted to know who I'd told and I wouldn't tell her. So then Thornton said the whole thing was simple abuse of position and she scorned me for thinking I was being recruited and I told her I had no reason to believe otherwise when I'd met him after writing to the FBI about employment and they TOLD me they were recruiting me.
Thornton cut me when I began to cry and tried to distract me from crying when I was giving my report of what happened. She didn't like the idea I was moving to Wenatchee and she asked why and I told her I wasn't comfortable in Oregon anymore. She wanted to know when I was moving to Wenatchee and what my plans were. She also criticized ME for "using drugs" when I had never been accused of this before and it was for a legitimate migraine. I had zero history of any "drug use" and no one had ever even suggested such a thing. I also had zero history of alchohol abuse because I barely drank, which is WHY I was so drunk that night at Berbattis. All of this changed after I reported these guys and people knew I was going to Wenatchee. My medical records were totally clean until people in Wenatchee began tampering with my record, writing false things about me which caused other professionals to question me as well.
The other thing Thornton was quick to strike down, was any connection between persons involved with my litigation agasint the Catholic church or the Willamette Week, and these FBI persons. She kept saying they would not look at anything to do with my ligitation or religious organizations. I told her she couldn't rule it out if it applied but she refused to make any notation about it, and told me it was just some "sex" thing if anything and they wanted to be sure it wasn't done to other women and, she said, it was internal and more about use of position.
I eventually was in Wenatchee but commuting because I didn't want to give up going to college, and my college was Portland State, in Oregon. So I tried to commute for several months. I made my report to Thornton in late summer and no one came out from the other field offices for formal investigation until I mentioned to some people I'd discovered the OIG was who I should report to next. All of a sudden, I was staying at my place in Oregon and I was visited by two S.S.A. agents from the FBI. They showed me their full badges and full identification. I can't remember the guy's name who was from the East Coast but the other guy's name was Don Pryzbyla and he was from a California field office. I think Palo Alto.
(to be continued...thought I could finish tonight but will have to finish tomorrow. too tired to work on this more.)
I later did research on the guys that came out to meet me and interview me. I found a lot of connections between Pryzbyla and The Catholic University of America. I don't remember finding anything about the other guy except that he was newer to the FBI and was in the military before, and went on a trip to Iraq or Afghan to transport a man charged with being a terrorist. There is a big hall or part of the campus is donated by Pryzbyla's or something. Can't remember exactly but I remember thinking about whether the Pryzbyla I knew had connections with my ligitation or the University, because that was the same University where Br. Ansgar, the main monk I knew, had gone to college. I wondered if they knew eachother. I wondered because I questioned the entire way the "investigation" was being handled and because most of my problems seemed to come from specific individuals who were coincidentally or not, Catholic.
The first and only group to try to say I was "schitzophrenic" was the Abbey. They said this to cover for what they did, and then when they involved police against me, who went to their church, I think they knew they could get in trouble for that. The police were taking directions from Dick Whittemore and Whittemore was getting his directions from Abbey officials. No one I knew agreed with their claims I was mentally ill. I also recall they were saying this to discount the fact that Br. Ansgar or Fr. Joachim and the monks had ever done anything wrong. They wanted to claim the attempt by Br. Ansgar, to take me into isolated buildings in the woods, by lying to me, was a figment of my imagination...It worked best for them to say there was something wrong with me when there wasn't.
Then they tried to feed this line to everyone else and that included the Willamette Week, which portrayed me as being totally nuts, claiming I said things or believed things I never thought and publishing full slander by Whittemore and Abbey officials.
When the S.S.A.s arrived, I let them in and they sat down across a table from me. I offered coffee but they didn't want anything. Don P. sat and was hardly able to stay awake, his eyes closing often and head nodding and they said they were exhausted from flying in. The other guy was alert, and was the one writing down all the notes. He seemed like a lawyer type. It seemed like he was the new guy because Don would, now and then, nod his head or perk up and nudge the other guy to write something down or pay attention. I actually liked Don as it seemed he had the same sense of humor, laughing a bit when the other guy knocked over an empty beer bottle, one of many on the table, and laughing at a few drier things I said.
Oh, before I write about their investigation, I forgot to mention, that after I talked to Julia Thornton, I had told her I'd give her a specific timeline of events, with dates and everything. I decided to brave going to the Portland field office. I wanted to go there because I saw it was a big building and I wondered how close it was to the coffee places I'd gone to with Bujanda. I also wanted to know what other offices were in the building, if any. I just figured it might be a good idea. So I went to the building with my paper of dates and timeline. When I went to the FBI building, I noticed what other offices were there. One was a lab for a hospital in Portland, Oregon Health Sciences University and I recall wondering if Mike Tancer worked there, because he'd said he worked in a lab doing research on parasites. It was in the same building as the FBI offices so I wondered if he knew people that way or if the FBI used the lab for services. I took the elevator to the FBI floor and then I handed over the timeline of events, which was in an envelope, to a guy who said he worked for the FBI and asked him to give it to Julia Thornton and that it was confidential.
Also, after talking to Julia Thornton, what was weird was that Bujanda called me. Bujanda had NOT called me since the incident at Berbattis and then my apartment. But right after I talked to Julia, it was not more than three hours later that Raul Bujanda called me. I had gone straight back to my apartment and Bujanda called up and I immediately thought it was odd. I wondered if he had had buddies watching us at the Starbucks where I met Julia, or if Julia or someone in the Portland office had told him to call me. When he called, I sensed he was not alone but that someone was with him while he was on the phone with me, and I had a feeling it was Whittemore or some lawyer, instructing him on how to answer my questions and what to say. Later, Baken and Thornton said no one from the FBI would have done this because it wasn't proper. But that was the point, some of the things people in the FBI had DONE, were obviously "not proper" and just because it was against the rules or the law, didn't mean it wasn't happening or did not happen.
When Bujanda called me, he acted like nothing had happened, making no mention about what had happened one week earlier, and I asked him why he was calling. He said he wanted to go out with me that night, and said he had "forgotten" to give me something. I asked what it was. He said it was a "trinket" and kept saying it was something he'd picked up in the San Diego area when he called me from out of state. It didn't sound genuine and I asked why he was calling now when he had not called me for a whole week, when before, he was calling me 4-5 times a day, either leaving messages or reaching me and wanting to talk or go out or come over. He'd been obsessive before, and then nothing? I didn't tell him I'd reported him and wanted to ask him questions first, but I knew he knew, somehow. Someone had told him.
I asked him again what it was and he said it was a "necklace with a pendant" on it. I immediately thought about another question Christa and Jonathan had asked me--they asked me what gift I would most like to receive from a man. I said probably flowers and then they said besides flowers, what? I said probably a necklace with a pendant on it because I didn't wear earrings much. So they both asked this question and I noticed it at the time, but didn't think of it again until Bujanda was calling up, acting like nothing was wrong and wanting to see me, trying to tempt me by saying he had a gift for me, a "necklace with a pendant" on it. He used the exact same description I had given Jonathan and Christa.
I didn't necessarily believe Bujanda had anything for me. I believed he just wanted to try to get me to go out with him so he could try to tell the FBI he'd done nothing wrong and I wasn't afraid of him and that I actually just wanted his attention or something. So I asked, "What is it?" and I asked him what the pendant was of. He hesitated like he couldn't think of what to make up and then after a long pause and after I swear I heard someone else in the room, he said "a dolphin". I said, "a dolphin?" and he said yes. Then it got weirder. I decided to tell him I'd reported him, because for one thing, I knew he already knew but I wanted to see what his response would be. He said oh yeah and I said he had taken me out and told me he wanted me to meet his boss and then they'd said they were recruiting me for the FBI and they weren't. Bujanda was very quick to say he'd never called Garza "boss" which I thought was odd. Why would he lie about that? Either he wanted the other person in the room to believe he'd never said this, or he was recording the conversation or thought I might be recording or someone was listening in, and he was lying for some reason. I didn't know WHY he would lie about calling Garza his "boss". Thornton had told me Garza was NOT his "boss" and she wouldn't tell me what Garza did but she said he WAS employed with the FBI. Why did it matter if Garza was his boss or not? Then, the other thing he lied about over the phone, was telling me they were recruiting me for the FBI. He tried to dismiss other things he'd said as well, and because I knew HE knew I knew what the truth was, I knew he was lying to cover himself in case someone else was listening. He wouldn't lie to ME about it when he knew I knew what the truth was. I told him he'd lied about a lot of things. He said what. I asked him, "Are you married?" and I'd asked Thornton this but she wouldn't say, however, I noticed her hesitation so I guessed he'd lied to me. So I asked him and he said, slowly, "Yes" and then he tried to say "We're separated". I said, "You're 'separated'? What does THAT mean? Are you legally separated, with papers?" and he said "No." I asked next, "Do you have kids?" and he stalled. I could hear someone in the room with him and after a pause, he said, "No." I had a feeling this wasn't true but it didn't matter. I just wanted to know how many things he'd lied about. I told him I wasn't going anywhere with him and that I'd reported him and I was moving to Wenatchee. I felt sorry for him and was easy on him, but it was because I have a soft heart and not because anything that had happened was any less serious than it was.
I said goodbye and that was it. I called Julia Thornton right after speaking with him. I told her he'd called me and that I felt it was odd because he did this right after I'd talked to her. I asked her if she had told him and she said no and I said I thought someone tipped him off about it. I told her what we said and that I felt he had someone else in the room with him.
Christa had known I was moving to Wenatchee, for about 6 months before I moved. I told her I didn't know what I was going to do about my migraines and always had to go to ER and that I hoped the hospital there was decent, because I had to go to the hospital, in Oregon, all the time, for migraine abortion. The FBI, and Bujanda and Garza, also knew I was planning to move there, before I ever started commuting from Wenatchee. It would have been easy for them to set things up, ahead of me, to cause problems for me, because they knew my plans and I told Christa that I was going to Wenatchee and when things were different for me there, it would prove what some people in Oregon had said about me, and the slander. So she knew I was going to try to get ahead, at least in re-establishing my reputation after being slandered by a paper. I believe they didn't want this to happen.
I had no bad marks against me. I didn't use drugs, I seldom drank, and I was a FT college student in the top 10% of her class and getting better grades as time went on. I also did my own litigation and created a job for myself as well. My medical record was clean except for problems I had with a couple of doctors whom I discovered knew Kaempf and others involved in Abbey litigation. It was hardly anything. I was never close to my family and they didn't understand everything or all the details. My father had thought I should sue for the defamation by the paper because everyone knew it wasn't true, but other than that, they didn't know why I was having all the problems with burglaries and break ins and car vandalisms. Also, at the same time, one of my best friends, whom I'd told Christa was one of my best and most loyal friends, Kristen McSheehey, started having problems at the same time.
She had her car repeatedly broken into and vandalized. It happened to her car and no one else's car and her place was also broken into. She was also date-raped by some guy who started working with her who had seemed normal to begin with and she had to put a restraining order against him even though he lied to employees about her and she lost her job instead of him. I have always wondered if some of her problems were because of me and the fact that these people who were causing problems for me also wanted to cause trouble to anyone who was my main support. She did not always have problems. It was so bad, she ended up moving out of state, to Idaho. I had told Christa she was my most loyal girlfriend, and through everything, had supported me and that we'd known eachother a long time.
Back to the S.S.A.'s. Oh, and I forgot to mention, right after I gave my report to Julia Thornton, I had the FBI business card that Bujanda had given me, disappear. I had placed it on the windowsill, and never moved it. It was out there in the open and someone took it because I never moved it. Also, I began having problems with my landlord there because the Abbey lawyers kept sending my landlord massive amounts of mail when she wasn't even involved, in addition to sending stuff to my box and to my door by courier in the middle of the night. I saw John Kaempf on her deck after I moved out of my own apartment and began sharing space with a neighbor for the times I was in town, in Portland, commuting from Wenatchee to finish classes at college. The Abbey lawyers bent over backwards to harass me and cause significant problems in my life and they never wanted to be caught for the things they did, especially not for using police, FBI, and other professionals to harass me and try to write ME up as being a problem. My landlord falsely accused me of not paying rent the last month and I had to take it to court and prove I had (and I had and I had documentation to prove it). Guess who was there? John Kaempf. I left when he eyed me and tried to walk over to me. I asked a security guard to go in with me and when I went back in, Kaempf knew I had to go in, and he was standing behind the door. He passed the guard a NOTE to give to me. It was totally unnecessary. He was just trying to cause me distress. Whether it was being put under surveillance for something I'd not done, or trying to get a record against me for not paying rent, Kaempf used illegal means and lying and slander to try to get the ball rolling against me, as did Whittemore, by slandering me in the Willamette Week and then using this with everyone, including authorities in Canada, years later, to try to claim it was true and this was an actual representation of ME. They did many things against me, under color of law, to make me look bad, and they took it to Wenatchee when I moved there. The one they didn't want me to have was credibility.
When the S.S.A.s asked me questions about the FBI guys, Bujanda and Garza, they framed it in a way as to suggest the whole thing was a small misconduct matter, and they said it was an "internal matter" over and over, regarding abuse of position. I never once thought what they had done was actually a crime until someone in Wenatchee told me everything fit the Oregon statutes for crime. But the S.S.A.s and everyone else in the FBI who took my facts, would and should have known that what I was talking about was not just "internal misconduct" but was a CRIME for which they could be charged and convicted. Julia Thornton AND the two S.S.A.s, Pryzbyla and the other guy, they ALL told me NOT to tell any police. They said it would "ruin" their investigation. I believed them at first, but after I found out what happened was a crime, I started thinking the FBI was just covering things up and didn't WANT the police to know or their guys to be charged with crime. The S.S.A. taking notes kept trying to frame my answers and shape what I was saying. He said, for example, "So, you don't believe you were ever sexually harassed do you?" and said this in a way that indicated it would be foolish and extreme for me to think such a thing. My answer was, "I don't know. Mabye I'm harassed all the time and I don't know it." Don P. perked up at this answer and got a slow smile. The note-taker said, "What do you mean by that?" and I said, "Well, I don't know the definitions for sexual harassment really. If Garza touching my rear end is harassment, I guess it's happened to me a lot but I didn't know it was against a law or something." So I told him, I didn't know. But they kept trying to minimize what happened and I never once thought it was a crime, what happened. Not until I had someone else, outside of the FBI, tell me it WAS and that if they were convicted, they'd have to be registered sex offenders.
I gave the S.S.A.s the exact same facts I have given anyone from the beginning. When the S.S.A.s left, they told me to NOT tell police anything because it would ruin their investigation. I said okay. I never heard from them again. Well, I did call them right after they left to add something to my complaint and that was it.
I was given their phone numbers but when I tried to call them at their respective offices, in CA and D.C., no one returned my calls. Ever.
I found out this was unusual and that if they'd given me their numbers, they should have taken my call in case I had further information to give them. But they just ignored me.
When they ignored me, I started getting a bad feeling. I wondered who they were, and if they had been hand-picked by people who had been involved in causing me distress. I wondered if they were Catholic and would go along with what the others had done to me. I was told not to tell ANYONE and not even police. At first I thought, sure, because they are investigating. But I started having bad doubts that there was no investigation. I wondered how Bujanda and Garza were defending themselves against my accusations.
When I saw Rick Baken, he told me he didn't think my reporting them would hinder my ability to get into the FBI as a lawyer. He said I would have to be professional because one day I might end up working WITH Bujanda.
Like I had reported some sort of small, insignificant, lovers quarrel or something. I didn't realize, even then, that I had been the victim of a crime. I just went along with what the FBI told me. But when the S.S.A.s refused to return my calls, I started to wonder.
Less than one week after the S.S.As visited me (they didn't give me anything except their phone numbers on a piece of paper. They didn't give me business cards or anything that would prove I'd met with them. However, they thought I was going to be alone in the apartment, arriving when my roommates had left for work. One of my roommates returned because he'd left something behind. He saw the FBI in the living room. So there was a witness they were there), I began having excessive police profiling.
When I reported the FBI guys to Thornton, I tried to tell her how the Abbey attorneys had already used police they knew against me, improperly and how it wasn't unlikely, then, that they would also use FBI people they knew, in the same manner. But she refused to have anything to do with what she called "personal litigation or religion". They refused to document important things which were precursers to my assault by Bujanda and Garza. I was not only put under "investigation" by the Mt. Angel police, under direction of Lynn Morris (human resource director for Mt. Angel Abbey) and Dick Whittemore (one Abbey attorney), I started getting tickets in Portland for every little thing. I finally proved what was going on was false, when I got another fraudulent parking ticket after telling Christa S. I was going to a particular bookstore and then being ticketed while parked legally. I had bought a disposable camera to start documenting all the things that were happening and that was when I filed everything, including photos, of the fact I was parked legally but cited by police, illegally. That ticket just disappeared from the court record without a trace. The clerk said it should still be on record even if it was paid or dismissed by a judge, but it was nowhere in the record.
One week (or less) after the S.S.A.s visited me at my house, I was pulled over by police while parked at a gas pump at a gas station. I wasn't really pulled over, because I was already parked. I was just approached by a police car and told he was going to search my car. I told him he didn't have a right to search my car and I'd done nothing wrong. He went through my entire car, for over an hour, like he was looking for something.
I had never been searched by police before. Not until after I reported the FBI and told Julia Thornton they had asked ME for "reefer". All of a sudden, I was being searched after I was already parked at a gas station. It was more than a little odd. The guy asked for my driver's license and he said they'd been alerted that my license was suspended. So after not finding anything in my car, he told me he was having my car towed away. I told him he was wrong, that I knew my license was NOT suspended, but he towed my car anyway, leaving me in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere at a gas station, somewhere inbetween Portland, Or and Coquille, Or. I had been driving to my parents house in Coquille to pick some things up and then I was going to go to class at college the next day. I had to hitchhike, for the first time in my life, because I was stranded and no way of getting back to college.
I hitchhiked and rented a room at a hotel. The next day I called the DMVs to find out why my license was suspended. I was told, by Oregon DMV and Washington DMV, that neither DMV had suspended my license. So I asked how it could be supended then, and why did the officer say it was. Someone finally said to ask a Judge Warren in Wenatchee, WAshington, a Catholic judge whose wife was Director of Catholic Charities, an organgization one of the main Abbey lawyers was involved with, and who took a place in the organization as part of the Board. John Kaempf was on the Board for Catholic Charities and for some reason, Judge Warren got it in his head, to tell all police I was driving with a suspended license, which HE suspended, but illegally, and the DMV said it was illegal. This Judge, Judge Warren, was the same Judge who handled a restraining order John Kaempf filed against me. Judge Warren handled this before suspending my license illegally.
John Kaempf was aware I was moving to Wenatchee at least 6 months before I moved. When he sent my 70-something year old grandmother a harassing letter, threatening to take legal action against her if she didn't "stop" me, I sent Kaempf an email, telling him he had crossed the line. I told him harassing me was one thing, and he had harassed me illegally as well, but when he threatened my grandmother, knowing she had nothign to do with my legal affairs, he's crossed the line and I was filing a restraining order against him. Kaempf immediately shot out a restraining order request against ME, to Judge Warren, the Catholic Judge who was used three different times, to do me harm and who flagrantly and knowingly broke the law a number of times.
So Kaempf and Warren knew eachother, and then I had Warren lying about my license being suspended when he and Kaempf and the Abbey people knew I was traveling in Oregon.
Because of the extensive search of my car, I wondered if someone in the FBI had tried to claim I was suspect for using or transporting drugs. Because, number one, Bujanda told me he was in this line of work, number two, Garza had wanted and asked for "reefer", and number three, Julia Thornton made a big deal about my use of Vicodin for migraine and tried to turn things on ME instead of the FBI guys and what they did.
Judge Warren and Kaempf knew that towing my car would leave me trapped in Washington, unable to get back to Wenatchee where Judge Warren was, which was the only place I could try to correct this. I was also still in the middle of litigation against the Archdiocese of Portland and Abbey.
There was no way I was going to be able to get my car if I didn't first go to Wenatchee and have it removed, and I didn't have money for a rental car and how could I get a rental car without a license?
I lucked out. The police told me I could not get my car back until I showed some gatekeeper my driver's license. The officer told me to give him my driver's license and that I could only get it back when I wasn't "suspended". He also made me give him my car keys. I gave him a driver's license for Washington, and my car keys. He didn't notice that I had a spare car key and he didn't know I had my old Oregon license with me still. It had a hole punched through it, in the corner, but I had kept it and had it with me. Wenatchee DMV just punched a hole through it to invalidate it and then gave it back to me. I had it with me.
I missed all my classes because of this. This was when I dropped out of college. I wasn't able to go to class because of what Judge Warren had done. I was having to figure out what was going on. I called my parents and my father was told my car was in an airport parking lot under security and that I could have it back when I showed the gatekeeper guard my license.
I wasn't able to go to Wenatchee first to clear this up, not without my car. So I used my spare key and the old Oregon driver's license. I was dropped off by a friend and I got into my car with my spare key. I drove to the gate and the guard asked for my license. He looked at the hole in it and said, "What's this?" I laughed it off and said nonchalantlhy, "Oh, it's for my keychain." I basically told him the hole was for my to be able to put it on my key chain so I didn't lose it. He let me by.
I had to get my belongings from the gas station and I was worried the same officer might have that as his beat and would see me and wonder how I got my car so I drove to a hotel first and their shuttle took me to the gas station. I then collected my things and drove back to Wenatchee.
When I was in my hotel in Portland, and I called a Wenatchee clerk, the clerk whispered to me that Warren had put a suspension on my license but it was illegal and he knew it was. He said it was for unpaid tickets but this wasn't a reason to supend a license in Washington at this time. So it was illegal and improper.
When I got my car back, it wasn't the same. It was like someone took it apart, all the panels, with a crowbar, and then put it back together shoddily. My car had not just been searched by the officer in a one hour search by the gas station, it was clear my car had been taken apart, with the hope that something would turn up, as if I were a drug trafficker. I believe either the FBI or some police made some kind of false claim that I was into drugs.
I'd never had problems with anyone suggesting this until I reported Bujanda and Garza.
When I got to Wenatchee, the first thing I did was go to the courthouse and ask Warren to remove the suspension. He refused. He refused to remove the suspension, verbally, as he approached me himself, and was the one who talked to me through the window. He refused, not knowing I had my car anyway.
I went to the Wenatchee DMV and asked them if they'd fix it and they said yes and did and gave me a proof to take to the police to show I was legal the entire time. I did notice how the DMV man asked me to "turn in" any "old licenses" you may have, with a slight smirk on his face. He knew, somehow. No way in hell was I turning over any license after that. I got out of that mess, and trap, no thanks to anyone but myself. I didn't know when it might come in handy again. I told him I didn't have a license and that's why I was there to pick up a Washington license.
This was the first time I ever lied about anything regarding the law and I was more than morally justified and I knew it.
The Abbey lawyers and church had used law enforcement and the justice system against me, more than once, to further their own personal agendas and no one was listening to me and hodling these people accountable.
After this happened, I didn't feel safe traveling back and forth from Washington to Oregon. Additionally, I had been profiled by police while trying to first move to Washingon. I was pulled over left and right, sometimes rightly and other times, falsely, for "speeding". I suddenly had police all over my ass.
After this, the police profiling, and the illegal suspension and car search, and then having the S.S.A.s ignore my calls, I started to wonder if the FBI told me to keep quiet because they didn't want to get INTO trouble. They said it was for their investigative purposes but suddenly I was being harassed and pulled over and all kinds of crap.
The next thing that happened is that the night before I was going to give my story, about the FBI, to the Wenatchee World (a specific reporter) I was arrested by Chelan Douglas police on trumped up and false charges of assaulting, of all things, the same grandmother I had tried to protect from John Kaempf, who had Alzheimers. When I was arrested, one of the officers made a point to tell me, "We know who you are. You're name is known by police from WASHINGTON to OREGON." She went on about how everyone in law enforcement knew who I was, and I thought that was odd, when I am not and have never been, a criminal. So at that point, I wondered what the FBI put in some record against me that would cause me to be such a celebrity with all the police.
I was put before Judge Warren. Judge Warren seemed to be very interested in all of my affairs as I kept running into him over and over. Everyone said I would get PR (personal recoginanze) because I'd never been charged with anything before, but Warren refused, which was highly unusual, and said I was going to jail. Warren held me in jail for 14 days during a time the Abbey attorneys knew I had planned to file for bankruptcy to wipe out their improper lien against me. I wasn't going to pay those who abused me, anything for using corrupt and illegal methods to have an action against them dismissed.
Since I was jailed, I couldn't file for a timely bankruptcy before the Washington bankruptcy laws changed (Christa knew I was planning to do this) and I also wasn't able to tell the Wenatchee World my FBI story. And suddenly, I looked like a criminal. I submitted several written requests to Judge Warren and these are called "kites". A judge is required to file them even if they don't honor the request. But Warren did not. He sent every single one of my kites back to me. I had told someone I was filing this stuff so it was in the public record where anyone could see what was being done. He illegally refused to file kites. Which became one of the main reasons why I decided to visit the Wenatchee FBI when I was out of jail, because of Warren's continued violations of law.
On this matter, I had recorded information from police calls to prove I was innocent and from a counselor as well. But the Prosecuting Attorney, who was Catholic, tried hard to get my own PD to deal and force me to plea bargain. I had evidence to totally exonnerate me and they didn't even have one witness, or statement, or piece of evidence for their case at all. I told the PD I wanted to go to trial and if he didn't try to obtain my evidence that proved me innocent, I WOULD. He threatened me, my own PD and then brought in the boss of the Wenatchee PD system. The boss told me if I didn't take the plea bargain, which would have given me a criminal record, I would lose my son (I was newly pregnant) when I was thrown in jail and they were going to trial the very next day, with no evidence for my case and no character witnesses (I'd asked them to get ahold of my witnesses too and the PD didn't). I held my ground and all charges were dropped because there was zero evidence. I didn't get my day to prove I was the one WITH evidence but charges were dismissed, only after I was harassed and pressured by police.
I then went to the Wenatchee FBI. I was pissed I'd been jailed the night before going to the reporter with my FBI story and I was also alarmed that the police had told me I was "known by police from Washington to Oregon". At this point, I began to strongly suspect the FBI in Oregon was not helping me but that someone was writing me up badly. Also, I wanted to report Warren for repeatedly doing illegal things against me.
I talked to a secretary at the Wenatchee office because the lone FBI agent, Wes, was "out". I told her I had made many attempts to find out what was said about me to the Portland FBI and I was concerned there was something damaging against me in the record. She told me then, that I had a right to any information regarding my name or person and they had to give it to me. She told me how to make a Freedom Of Information Act request. I then met Wes and told him about Judge Warren, refusing to take an illegal suspension off, and jailing me for 14 days with no evidence and refusing to file my "kites". Wes shrugged it off, saying Warren was retiring that summer anyway.
I tried making FOIA requests and I made several. I did this for a long time, getting no results from the FBI and being ignored. Then I read the article about Sibel Edmonds, translator (formerly) for the FBI who was blacklisted as being mentally ill when she attempted to report concerns about a coworker. I read Sibel had finally gotten somewhere when the OIG did an investigation. I had been asking the FBI who they were accountable to, if they wouldn't answer me, and they refused to respond. So then I got the info from this article in Vanity Fair. I continued to submit FOIA requests.
I was totally ignored, and THEN, when I was sexually assaulted (documented with photos and DNA test) by someone in Wenatchee, I went to an organization for domestic and sexual assault, and that was when I told this woman all about what happened to me and she said what had happened to me, by Bujanda and Garza, was not just "internal misconduct". She told me it was a crime and that I was the victim of a crime and it wasn't my fault.
I asked her how she knew this and she said that because I was drunk, anything they did to me was magnified, under the law. She looked Oregon laws and we found out that what they had done, groping me while I was totally smashed and under the influence of both alcohol and prescription drugs, was a crime. It was Sexual Abuse in the 3rd and it was not a misdemeanor. It was the next step up from a misdemeanor, and it was a crime, punishable by law. She told me the law enforcement that would have to handle this was the police, the same group the FBI told me not to go to. She said I needed to report it to the Portland police, and she said if they were convicted, both Bujanda and Garza would have to be registered sex offenders. I was also told their attempt to get into my apartment after my repeated refusal, when I was under the influence, was considered to be "coersion".
After talking to her, she went with me to get a restraining order against the guy in Wenatchee who first assaulted me and then later was caught attempting to harass and stalk me at Wal-Mart. The Wenatchee police refused to do anything. I gave them the evidence of the sexual assault, because the hospital documented I had signs of a forced attempt and they also did a swab. The police refused to send the DNA to a lab and the photos disappeared. I told them I wanted copies of everything and they couldn't find the evidence. Then they refused to do anything and I had to go with the woman from the organization to get a restraining order. I tried to go to the state police to report this and they refused to meet with me even though I talked to several people and left messages.
Another thing I believe deserves investigation, is the fact that after I moved to Wenatchee, I had a doctor who was, incidentally, Catholic, and who may have had a connection to the Abbey attorneys or FBI, and it was Dr. Michael Parnell. He wrote me up as being drug seeking and mentally ill, when I showed up at ER for migraine treatment and when I had anxiety after being interviewed by the 2 S.S.A.s. He wrote false things into my chart, claiming I'd showed up saying I'd been "raped by the FBI" and that I was delusional. I never once told anyone I had been raped, because I didn't even make that claim to the FBI or anyone else. I also didn't give any details to Dr. Parnell about my complaint with the FBI, because it was about a week or less after I had been interviewed by the S.S.A.s and I was following their instructions not to tell anyone what happened. All that I said to Dr. Parnell was that I had anxiety and I thought I was having a panic attack. He asked why and I told him it was because I'd just been interviewed by two FBI supervisors regarding a complaint I'd had to make against 2 of the Portland FBI employees. I gave no details and said nothing about it being of a sexual nature. But then Parnell claimed I had said this when I did not and it made me sound nuts and also, I wouldn't lie and say I'd been "raped" when I wasn't.
After the FBI interview, for the first time, I started having problems with my medical records being written up to make me sound nuts. I also had Parnell get the ball rolling on falsely claiming I did not have migraines and that I was simply drug seeking. I had never been drug seeking in my life but all of a sudden, I report the FBI, and Thornton is accusing me of this regarding Vicodin, and my car was being searched for drugs, and I had doctors writing me up as not having migraines but just wanting drugs. It wasn't every doctor. It was a couple of doctors who started putting lies into my medical record, and then other doctors would read this and thought it was true. After I was thoroughly defamed, I told the hospital, which has a history of being part of the Catholic church organiztions, with 4 priests from Yakima on one of the boards, they could be sued for defamation for writing me up as being drug seeking when no one in my life had ever said this, and for refusing to treat my excruciating migraines. I told them there was zero evidence I'd ever used drugs because I had no history with drugs--not one person could claim they sold me drugs, or saw me with them, because I never was.
The next thing that happened, is that after I put my proof of migraines into the medical record, that same hospital wrote me up as testing positive for marijuana. It was a lie. I'd never used marijuana but they claimed they had a lab that was positive for THC. They didn't tell me about it though, so I had no way to challenge it. I didn't find out about it until 3 months later when I requested copies of my medical records to see what was written. I thought it was odd that I had a false record of using THC right after I proved they were slandering me by claiming I was drug seeking when I had legitimate migraine. It was like they then wanted any kind of evidence I DID use illegal drugs, to counteract the new documentation by two different neurologists, from Oregon, who confirmed I had migraines.
I found out John Kaempf, one of the Abbey attorneys in Oregon, was working with the Davis Arneil attornesy (lawyers for the medical professionals) to slander me and get the ball rolling against me. I saw Kaempf leave the parking lot of Arneil Davis on one occasion as well.
I was being totally blacklisted and defamed by the Willamette Week article and then, after I reported the FBI employees, by people trying to cover the whole situation and the Abbey lawyers involvement. They didn't want me to establish credibility with anyone.
Also, before I left Washington, right after I reported the FBI employees to Thornton, after I lost a case, Christa Schneider invited me to a party with Ryan Barnes and his friend who'd wanted to have sex with me when I was intoxicated (Devin, whom I fled from) and I noticed I was being mocked by Christa and Ryan. After this, Oh, this was the night when Devin attempted to have sex with me...I
just remembered, I went home after the BBQ. I didn't stay out with Devin at his place at night until after this party. Devin was there and the whole incident of his making the nightcap and my leaving him and taking off, was right after meeting Christa for drinks with this group. When we all left the place, I noticed Christa and the rest making fun of me, which I thought was odd, but I didn't know what Christa was up to for sure at that time. I knew I had problems wiht leaks of infomration during litigation but couldn't peg her for sure. But when I was leaving, an officer came up to me and Devin and was hostile torwards me and asked Devin if Devin needed his assistance. Devin said no, things were fine. The officer and Devin acted like they knew eachother. I followed Devin to his place where he'd said we'd talk about things before I moved to Wenatchee, and then Devin made his moves and I took off.
I was thinking it was after the pool party and BBQ but it was on this other occasion, later.
The other thing I noticed was that when I arrived to the group, everyone acted so strange and just looked at me coldly, and glaring at me. It actually crossed my mind that maybe someone knew Bujanda and Garza and they were pissed I'd reported them to Thornton or the FBI.
After something like 6 months to 1 year of trying to get ahold of the FOIA records to find out why I was being treated so badly by law enforcement and police, I sent email about fragments of the situation, to every, or almost every FBI office that had an email address.
I was instructed to send my requests to Washington D.C. after awhile. I was also finally contacted by someone from the Portland, OR office, Jerod Garth.
After I found out what had been done to me was a crime, I reported it to the Portland police. This was when I encountered what I believe is nothing less than "obstruction of justice" and intimidation of a witness or victim.
I called a women's organization in Portland, Oregon first, to confirm whether or not my facts met the criteria for crime. I was told they did and that there might also be grounds for accusations or charges of coercion since they pushed their way into my apartment when I was under the influence.
At this point, after reading about what had been done to Sibel Edmonds, and after talking to another former woman who was an S.A. in the FBI, who experienced sexual harassment, I felt it was more likely there was no real investigation and that these guys had defamed me and I was told not to tell anyone because someone KNEW it was a crime. I found out the jurisdiction for this crime would be police, not FBI. I spoke with one female FBI employee who said sexual harassment was still a very big problem within the FBI and it was difficult for the FBI to hold themselves to a higher standard and take care of the problem. She said it was and is very much a boys club and that the only women who advance are those who go along with the games. In her words, a direct quote from a woman who had been highly regarded in the agency: "They're corrupt."
I wanted to press charges against Bujanda and Garza. I was connected to the Sgt. Rich Austria. Sgt. Rich Austria was nice, at first. I told him what had happened, though, and he said he'd have to call the FBI first. I asked why he needed to call the FBI when it happened at my apartment, which was Portland's jurisdiction. I felt he was doing FBI employees special favors by not taking my complaint as if they were anyone. Why would he need to talk to the FBI when the FBI wouldn't be the authority for making or pressing charges of this nature? When Austria got back to me, or when I called again, Austria told me he spoke with the FBI and they told him they were taking care of it. I told Austria the FBI couldn't "take care of it" because the FBI wasn't the jurisdiction for this kind of crime and I'd already asked other people about it. I said, "How can the FBI police themselves?" and said I had even tried to reach the S.S.A.s who were first out to interview me and they told me to call whenever I wanted but they never returned my calls. So I got tossed back and forth between Sgt. Austria and the FBI. Austria finally told me to call the Portland FBI office and ask to speak to Bob. I can't remember now, but Bob was either the top guy, the second top guy, or the number three guy. He was very close to the top and I was told to call him. So I did. I called and left msgs and no one returned my calls. I kept leaving messages and finally I said, why isn't he calling me back, when I leave messages and when Sgt. Austria said I was supposed to call him? So someone finally said Bob said "Jerod Garth" was handling everything and to talk to Jerod Garth.
I told Christa S. I wondered if Jerod Garth was connected to Bujanda or Garza at all. I told her I'd know if he had a southern accent. I told her his name sounded like something from the midwest or deep south and I joked if he had an accent he probably wasn't Catholic. So then Jerod Garth called me and left a message on my answering machine, with a southern accent, saying "JaaaeeeyyrOd Gaaaarth" was calling. It was a definite southern accent and I called Christa laughing and told her. When I talked to him, he retained this accent the whole time, and he said the FBI was handling the whole Bujanda and Garza thing and when I said I was about to write a complaint to the OIG, he said, "The Department of Justice already knows about this." He told me they'd talked to the Washington D.C. department of justice and when I said "WHY?" he said they'd asked the Dept. if they wanted to take care of this and the Dept. told him and "them" that the Department of Justice didn't want to get involved and that they were leaving it in the hands of the FBI.
The next time I talked to Jerod Garth, I caught him unawares. He wasn't expecting a call from me. I had been on a different phone line which wasn't my own I believe, and I don't know why he didn't know it was me calling in, but he answered the phone WITHOUT an accent. I noticed immediately but didn't say anything right away. After he'd talked to me for awhile, I said, after taking in a deep breath, a sudden sharp intake, "You're from the East Coast!" I either said that, or maybe I said, "You're from NY" I don't remember right at this moment. But he had dropped his southern drawl and accent. When I said this, he said quickly, "I told you that" and I said, "No. You didn't." Garth wanted to get off the phone right away and acted annoyed. I had the feeling someone was either in the room with him so he couldn't fake the accent, or he didn't like being caught. And why would he use an accent unless he knew what I had said to Christa about how his name sounded sort of hick, like he was from the south or something, and that if he had an accent I'd know he wasn't Catholic. Why would he then fake an accent?
But I called Sgt. Austria again and said I knew it was HIS responsibility to take care of this. I believe I also called a general line to see if Austria had documented or made a report of my first attempt to tell him what happened and no report had been made. When I talked to him again, I said maybe they had their own internal investigation but that the crime was something he was supposed to handle. I gave my whole story to Sgt. Austria and Austria told me it wasn't a crime. I said it was, and that I'd talked to others who said it was. He told me he would write a report that I had been groped, but not that I had been drunk or intoxicated. I said why are you telling me to change my story? and he said he could write a report or statement that I had been groped, and that was a misdemeanor. I said why are you telling me to leave out the fact that I was totally smashed? I had told Austria these guys knew I was drunk and had even admitted this because of Garza's comment it was "cute" that I was drunk after one drink. They had both seen me take Vicodin as well. So Austria said, "I can't prove you were drunk." I said, "But you can prove I was groped?" I told him, "I told you Bujanda and Garza used credit cards at Berbattis to pay for the drinks. You can trace credit cards and see what they paid for when they were out with me." He said he couldn't prove who drank what. I told him it was easy to figure out because I was the one drinking vodka soda and then the shots that were ordered, one of every round went to me. Austria also said it would get dirty and my sex life would come into question. I told him I wasn't afraid of that and I had nothing to hide.
So Austria flat out tried to intimidate me and he specifically told me he would write something up, but only for groping me and not for my being under the influence. I told him it was EASIER to prove the intoxication, by the credit cards, than the groping. And, I told him, "You either take all my facts or you don't. You don't pick and choose what you like."
I told him then, because I was worried he was going to try to write a statement and put words in my mouth or make omissions, I told him, "Don't write the statement FOR me." I said, "I will write the statement." He was saying he'd write my statement for me and give it to the Prosecution and they could decide what to do with it. I told him no, I said to wait for my statement because I was going to write my own statement and include all my facts and then he could give THAT to the Prosecution. So I told him this several times, making sure he understood and then after that, he refused to call me or return my calls. I left a message or email now and then, telling him I was goint to be sending something soon, but then all of a sudden, I found out from the police, "Your charges were dismissed". Austria had GONE AHEAD, against my wishes, and written a statement FOR me and rushed it into the Prosecution's hands so they could have a look at it and throw it out. Which is what they DID.
He didn't wait for my statement or my own words and then when I tried to get a copy of what Austria wrote, no one would send it to me. Then, I was told it was going to cost a lot of money that I didn't have. When they said this, I asked to be transfered to the Victim's Advocates. I asked if they could help me get a copy of the whole case and the statement and at first they said yes but then they must have talked to someone because then I was told "no" and told I couldn't get a copy.
It was a very deliberate move for Sgt. Austria to write a statement out for me, against my expressed wishes. I felt he had done this so any charges could go through the process and be thrown out which might save Bujanda or Garza from double jeopardy or being charged again for the same crime, or, I didn't know. But I was told it was "over" and they couldn't do anything about it.
Right after this, Sgt. Austria received a promotion to Director or head of Homocide. Bujanda, for his part, received an "Acheivement Award" for his work with the Portland police. This was when I found out Bujanda did work WITH the Portland police and that the car he'd used that one night was probably not his but an undercover cop car.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment