Hang up and call the cops. At the real police department number.
That was the $12,000 lesson learned by a St. Edward’s School faculty member who responded to a phone message earlier this month left by what she believed was a Vero police officer, and in doing so became the latest victim of a well-orchestrated scam.
The initial voice-mail message, in fact, was left on her father’s cell phone, presumably because the family-phone-plan bill is in his name. And he dutifully passed it along to his daughter, a college-educated island resident who grew up here.
The possibility the caller was an imposter never crossed his mind, nor did he have any reason to suspect his daughter was about to be robbed by a couple of con artists.
“I was out of town on business and distracted by work when I got the message, and I really didn’t think anything of it,” the father said. “The call (said it) was from the Vero Beach Police Department, but I knew she hadn’t done anything wrong.”
The woman also didn’t know why the police wanted to talk to her, so she called the 772-area-code number left in the message by a man who identified himself as “Sergeant Ken Barrett.” Her call went to voice mail.
Fewer than five minutes later, she received a return call from “Barrett” – the beginning of what would become a three-hour nightmare that felt as if it would never end.
“It all sounded so real,” said the woman, a 30-something divorced mother who asked that we not use her name because, after enduring such emotional trauma, she wanted to protect her privacy, professional reputation and children.
“They had me in such a panic,” she added, “that I truly thought I had done something wrong.”
She hadn’t.
But the predatory sleazebags who perpetrated the scam quickly sensed a vulnerability in the woman’s tone and, working from a proven-successful script, proceeded to bully her into doubting and, ultimately, ignoring her own best instincts.
“They told me a very believable story,” the woman said. “They had an answer for everything, and as the conversation continued, the pressure kept getting more intense.”
What was the story?
According to the woman: The fraudulent police officers – “Barrett” eventually turned the call over to someone who identified himself as a “Captain Steven Davenport” – told her that she failed to appear in court on April 25, despite having been served with a subpoena in October.
As a result, she had been charged with “failure to appear” and “contempt of court,” and she could either surrender to police or pay fines of $6,000 per offense.
If she opted to surrender, however, she could be jailed for up to 72 hours.
“They said the subpoena was sent to my old address – they had the actual address – and that the processor probably forged my signature, which is why I didn’t know about it,” the woman explained.
“When I asked why I had been subpoenaed, they said it was for my expert opinion on the mental health status or moral conduct of a defendant, who was someone I might know,” she added.
“They said the case involved a juvenile and possible sexual allegations.”
Working with children in the education field, the subpoena story seemed at least somewhat plausible.
What should’ve raised a red flag, though, was the police officers telling the woman she could avoid being arrested and jailed by paying the fines, but she was not permitted to talk to anyone else until she completed the transaction – because a “gag order” had been imposed.
She was told she could not call the police department, a lawyer or even her father. If she ended the call, she would be tracked through her phone and arrested.
“They gave me badge numbers and a phone number, and they came at me with so much information that sounded real … I broke down,” the woman said. “My logical mind shut down and I was in complete panic mode, because I didn’t want to go to jail.
“It didn’t help that I was at work,” she added. “I just wanted to be done with it.”
Under the conditions of the pay-the-fines options presented by the bogus police officers, the woman was also required to stay on the phone with “Davenport,” who provided detailed instructions as to how to proceed.
She said “Davenport” seemed to change his tone – from intimidating to helpful – when she agreed to pay the fine.
“He was acting like my ally, telling me I was doing the right thing,” the woman said. “He told me it would all be over in an hour.”
“Davenport” told the woman to drive to her bank, withdraw the cash needed to cover the fines and go to a “government kiosk,” which turned out to be a closed pharmacy near Vero Beach High School.
He then directed her to what he described as another “highly regulated” government kiosk on the Treasure Coast – “Hemp Haven,” a CBD shop located on U.S. 1 in Port St. Lucie – where she was to use the on-premises Bitcoin ATM to deposit the cash into a cryptocurrency account.
By then, however, the woman was already questioning her decision.
She wasn’t alone.
“The lady at the hemp shop said, ‘Be careful you’re not getting scammed,’” the woman said. “She knew.”
Clearly, the scammers had used this same Bitcoin ATM before – many times, probably – and the woman began to reconsider, at one point walking back to her car.
“I saw there was a Bitcoin machine, and I knew something wasn’t right,” she said. “I told the officer, “I can’t do this. This is a scam. I need to make a call to verify this is legitimate.’ But he started yelling at me, saying, ‘You’re not being compliant. We’re going to send the police to arrest you.’
“I felt violated, and I just wanted it to stop,” she added. “I had been on the phone for three hours, and they had worn me down.”
The woman deposited the $12,000, which took several minutes, even though she had a sick feeling inside.
“After I pressed the button, I said, ‘You’re scamming me,’” the woman recalled. “He called me a dumb (expletive) and ended the call.”
Minutes later, she received a text message from her father: “Scam! Scam! Scam!”
It was too late.
The woman contacted the Port St. Lucie Police Department, which referred her back to Vero Beach, where she filed a complaint with the Indian River County Sheriff’s Office.
“They took all the information, but the money is gone,” she said. “These guys are very good at what they do.”
How good?
The real Sergeant Ken Barrett retired from the Vero Beach Police Department in 2014 after 30 years, and he currently works in the Indian River Shores Public Safety Department’s detective division.
An Internet search turned up a Steven Davenport who retired from the Florida Department of Law Enforcement and several examples of the name being used in similar scams in other parts of the country.
“I’ve heard of this scam using Ken’s name,” Vero Beach Police Chief David Currey said. “I’ve had people call and say my name was used. These people are very good at collecting information and making the calls sound official.”
Currey urged anyone who gets a suspicious call from someone claiming to be a Vero Beach police officer – especially when it involves taking money out of the bank – to immediately notify the department.
“These types of scams have been going on for a long time,” the chief said, “and they’re not going away.”
The woman scammed in this case, meanwhile, is still haunted by the incident, knowing she was had. But her father said she wants to warn others to be more cynical when confronted with similar calls.
“The only thing we can do now is try to spin this to a positive,” the father said. “Yes, it’s an expensive lesson, but it’s only money. If putting this story out there prevents one other person from getting scammed, something good will have come from it.”
The woman said she already knows of four other women in her age group who’ve been approached with the same swindle. One was on her way to the bank when her husband stopped her. Another was preparing to leave for the bank when someone mentioned the scam.
She was the only one who got taken.
“I learned the hard way,” the woman said. “You can’t assume it’s a police officer, just because he says he is. Always verify who someone is before you do anything, even if they’re threatening you.
“Don’t stay on the phone.”
Hang up and call the real cops. At the real police department number.
