A Torch to the Wallet
The safest method for igniting a romantic blaze is the old-fashioned way—eye contact across a crowded room, a well-timed jest, or, at the very least, the steady hand of a matchstick, known to the uncharred as a Lucifer. But in our modern age, where love comes at the tip of a finger rather than the twinkle of an eye, one poor soul after another has been drawn like moths to a digital inferno, and none more tragically than the gentlemen who swiped their way into the clutches of one Miss Aurora Phelps.
Miss Phelps, a resident of both Las Vegas and Guadalajara, Mexico, is accused by federal authorities of operating what the sober-minded lawmen call a “romance scam on steroids.” In terms more plainly put, the lady in question did not content herself with pilfering hearts but instead made off with bank accounts, brokerage funds, automobiles, and, most distressingly, lives.
Her alleged exploits, stretching from the neon-lit dens of Las Vegas to the shaded alleys of Mexico City, have left behind a trail of empty wallets and cold bodies, with at least one of her admirers departing this world in an ill-fated wheelchair excursion across the border. The Justice Department, which has taken a rather dim view of her activities, has laid out a 21-count indictment, listing such unladylike offenses as wire fraud, identity theft, and kidnapping resulting in death.
The FBI, ever diligent in affairs of deceit, states that Miss Phelps primarily preyed upon the elderly but was not above hoodwinking younger victims nor even members of her sex. With the aid of prescription sedatives—one must suppose she lacked the patience for sweet words alone—she relieved her suitors of their worldly possessions as they slumbered, then set about converting their hard-earned savings into gold, luxury goods, and, in one instance, a failed attempt at plundering Social Security and retirement accounts.
Authorities believe her schemes drained the fortunes of her victims by the hundreds of thousands, with an attempted heist reaching into the millions. And while a great many men have awakened from her enchantment to find their purses lighter, some have not awakened at all. Three souls have been lost in connection with her exploits, though she faces charges for but one of the deaths.
Presently, Miss Phelps is enjoying the hospitality of the Mexican authorities as she awaits extradition to the United States, where a cell and a lengthy judicial inquisition no doubt await. Should she be convicted on all counts, her romantic pursuits will henceforth be limited to the confines of a federal penitentiary.
As for those still seeking companionship in the treacherous waters of the Internet, the FBI offers this sage counsel–be cautious, ask questions, and attempt—however possible—to verify the true nature of the affections bestowed upon you. Or, failing that, one might consider taking up a good book, a steady dog, or, in times of true desperation, a well-worn deck of playing cards. These, at least, will take your money honestly.
The Old Blog in the Desert 