The story the agent made up showed all the signs of someone playing a game with me. If the person had claimed to be a guy or an underage girl, I would have ended the conversation, but I was talking to someone claiming to be an adult woman, so I played along. In the beginning, I remember asking for pictures and got a pic of an adult woman only (which is what I was seeking), who had a pretty hot body. It was discovered in the trial that it was the picture of another FBI agent’s body in the office who was in much better shape than the one I was talking to. I gave my standard response that went something like this: “That sounds hot… let’s meet up and talk about it.” When I got the response, “Well, I just want to text and get to know you first.” I filed it in the fantasy chat folder like I’ve done so many others. She then said she only had “play” pictures of her daughter, (meaning child pornography.) I sort of went off. I said she could keep those pictures because I didn’t want them. I then went off on law enforcement (and specifically the FBI) because I know I’ve been contacted numerous times over the last 10 years trying to send me that stuff. I realize now that I should have walked away but I didn’t. I’ve had some pretty taboo conversations but would never talk to anyone claiming to be a minor, so I figured I was ok. I figured it wrong. I told her I don’t want any of her child porn and you can get 10 years in prison for that. Then, I mentioned maybe she and I could just play alone together. She promptly said “no”. She said it was just for her “little”. Again this is fantasy role-play talk. I suggested that she (an adult female) and I play alone on more than one occasion. The more she said no, the more of a challenge it became for me. I started telling her what I thought she wanted to hear because that’s part of the game and that’s all she would respond to.


She then asked me to describe the perfect night with her and her “little”. Well, I played along and told her a story about a dimly lit room and all of us playing around. All of this was in poor taste but never intended to be taken seriously. In my mind, I was not talking to or even about a “real” person, but just going along with someone’s fantasy. That was the ONLY time I’d commented on a sexual nature, and I honestly didn’t even remember making it until the trial. The messaging app we used to chat on deleted my earlier messages, but the FBI agent saved all of them.


My online texting was not made with the cunning and tact the government claims it was. I am sure my sarcastic sense of humor came through because this was all a game to me. Fast forward a week, and she hit me up when I was at a motorcycle race. Now I am not dating anyone and at the race alone. I thought that it was nice to have someone check up on me. She asked how my races were going. I told her later my best race was third place, not so great. She said, “Well you better have won my little a ribbon.” (keep in mind this is the agent asking me to commit the crime)I said that we don’t get ribbons, just trophies. I can give her my trophy because I am going to toss it out anyway. She then said, “Yeah I bet you have a trophy for her.” I replied, “No dude that is not what I meant!”. This was commonplace as she continually directed the conversation to sexual activity with her “little”. We mostly had regular conversations about vacations, work, etc. and she slipped a few times. Her persona was that of a 30-year-old single mom, but I commented on some song lyrics from a mid-90s country song from a little-known artist. I said “Yeah, old enough to know better but still too young to care.” She replied, “Nice one Mr. Wade Hayes,” which was the artist. I thought no way a 30-year-old would know that. I picked up on stuff like that and it made me wonder who I was talking to. She refused to talk on the phone and her story didn’t add up. I was confident I hadn’t said anything illegal, so I figured ‘What the heck?’

I would suggest a meeting and thought the person would make an excuse and go away. I said, “Hey we should meet up one night.” To my surprise, the person said yes. The next day, she asked, “So what are you going to do when you get here?”. My reply was “Nothing illegal, let’s just hang out”. Not getting the response she expected, she said to stop by Walmart and grab a stuffed animal for her fake daughter and her daughter also liked wine coolers, so I was to get some of those, etc. (This is yet again another example of the agent requesting me to commit the crime of enticement)
After work that day I went straight home. I sat down and opened a beer and went over all the possibilities of what it might be. Maybe it is a guy or girl playing a joke, maybe it is a girl with a doll or something, maybe it is a girl/girl role-play couple or even a cop. I wasn’t sure but I wasn’t going to let anyone get the better of me. I made a rash decision to check out the apartment, but I never went to Walmart to get those things that she asked for. In case something did turn into some kind of role-play (or there was an actual single woman there and I needed to impress her) I brought a bag of stuff including the motorcycle trophy she had asked for weeks before, condoms, and a cooler with beer. Later, the prosecutor took several other things strewn throughout my car, a sleeping pill and my allergy pill, and painted a nice little story about what those items could have been used for had I gone to the apartment. 

The apartment was only 4 miles from my house, and I showed up an hour early. When I got there, I recall seeing a bunch of beat-up cars and people wandering around and thinking “What the hell am I doing here?” I parked and thought about leaving at that moment. I knew I was being played with (it happens all the time), but I at least wanted to see the apartment door to see if it existed. I got out, walked up past the door, saw it, and got back into my car. If I had gone there and knocked on the door and seen an actual kid, I would have freaked. Who knows maybe if she’d been attractive, I’d have had a chat with her because I have a thing for demented and crazy women but who knows? The thing is that nobody will ever know what could have happened because I went back to my car. Before I could start my car and leave, I was surrounded by cops and then arrested.
The first couple of nights in jail I didn’t understand the seriousness of my charge. I hadn’t even retained an attorney yet because I used my calls to get in touch with my parents and let my employer know I needed to take a couple of days off. I also thought my arrest might be a mistake considering I was in my car with the keys in the ignition. My biggest concerns were posting bail, getting back to the office, and calling the girl I was dating (who just so happened to live half a mile from where I was arrested) to apologize for not meeting her that night. When I did finally see a judge two days later and was informed, I was looking at 10 years to life I thought I was going to pass out right there. I hear about people all the time pleading for a life sentence over the death penalty and I just don’t get it. I don’t feel alive in this place most of the time.

I will skip forward about a week, (a week of being shackled and then transported from courtroom to county jails numerous times to what is called a detention hearing).