Dateline Originals - Internal Affairs - Ep. 3: Unintended Consequences

Episode Date: December 19, 2023

Choices about relationships, revelations and reconciliation set a murder in motion.This episode was originally published on September 27, 2022. 

People who make bad choices are often surprised by the consequences. Greeley, Colorado police officer Ig Garris knew that from his days of working narcotics. He'd seen it up close. Families divided. Careers destroyed. Overdose. Prison. Death.

All of it because somebody somewhere who should have known better made bad decisions. Now it was Ig's turn to pay the piper. And you were thinking to yourself, what? What the hell am I doing? Really? But you still did it. I still did it.

For nearly three years, he'd cheated on his wife again and again, and then lied to cover it up again and again. He'd even fathered a child with the wife of a fellow officer and still failed to come clean. This man hid behind lies. I think a lot of people knew what was going on. His wife suspected. She knew something was wrong. But refused to believe the rumors. Then one night, the house of cards that was Ig's life

came crashing down. He was caught, right? The cat's out of the bag. His story is about more than cheating spouses and shattered families. It's also about the law of unintended consequences. You don't realize who you're hurting sometimes. You just don't. It's about murder and a scandal so big it engulfed an entire police department. Quite honestly, when something like that happens, every achievement every officer ever had at the Greeley Police Department is

tarnished or it's even depleted. In this episode, you'll hear from the man who set it all in motion. Just the hypocrisy of it all. The sinners live and the innocent one dies. The woman accused of using sex as a weapon. We started drinking and it didn't take too long. We reaffirmed our sexual relationship. And from the detectives who cornered a suspect, but failed to find some key items of evidence. We went to extraordinary steps to try and find the handgun. We just never found it, the gloves and the cape.

I'm Josh Mankiewicz, and this is the third episode of Internal Affairs, a podcast from Dateline. I'm going to marry my mom. I thought you were going to marry Trevor. No, I'm going to marry you. I'm already married. It was just a moment between mother and child transitory and perishable but captured like a summer firefly and preserved on tape. No doubt on the morning after his double life was exposed,

Iggaris replayed hundreds of innocent moments like that one in one continuous mental loop. Groggy and exhausted, he wandered from room to room in a house now made eerily quiet by the hollow sound of something missing. The sound of Victoria's video games. The clunk and shuffle of Heather's morning routine. Victoria's note on the dining room table reaffirmed the reality of all of it. His wife had left him. She'd taken his daughter. And he imagined, once the lawyers were done, she would also have the house. She'd always said she would leave you if you cheated. And she did leave you.

Yes, and I was totally expecting to be divorced. She was devastated. She wanted to be away from him. Wendy Jones remembers well the sound of her sister's anguished voice when Heather called her home in Arvana in the middle of the night. She was like, what am I going to do? Am I going to live on my own? What am I going to do with Victoria?

And she was going through everything. Heather needed someplace to land, someplace to think. She was too upset to drive, so Sister Wendy says she and her husband drove to Greeley and picked up Heather and Victoria, then drove them and Heather's car back to Wendy's house. Ig, too, it seems, needed somebody to talk to that Sunday morning. And in one more puzzling decision, the person he chose was his longtime lover,

Shawna Nelson. Ig and Shawna agreed to meet up in the parking lot of a surgical center in town and then drive together to Fort Collins. That way, they'd be away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues in Greeley. In a quiet corner of a bar, far from the football fans fixated on the Broncos-Cardinals game, Ig and Shauna sat and talked about what had happened the night before and the implications going forward. By all accounts,

they were together for several hours that day, and there was, of course, a lot to discuss. The state of Shauna's marriage to Ken, Ig's all-but-certain divorce from Heather, and Ig and Shauna's nine-month-old son, Christian. Just what, if anything, was decided that day is known only to them. Friends who spoke with Shauna told police her mood had been upbeat after she spoke with Ig. Her moment had finally arrived. Ig would soon be free to be with her. And then, less than 24 hours later, all of that good humor suddenly evaporated.

And that's because at about 11 a.m. on Monday, December 18th, Heather Garris returned home. Were you surprised? She came back and said, we need to go up to the room, and we need to talk. And I'm under the assumption. There's nothing I could tell Heather at that point that would make it okay, all right, you know. And you're expecting this to be a discussion about how we split up our assets and custody.

But she surprised you. Yes, she did. She told me that, she goes, Ig, I know you love me. I love you. There's no doubt in my heart that you have love for me, Ig, which I'm cringing even that much more in guilt. And she goes, I'm not going to divorce you, but you have to do these things, meet these criteria. And they were? An STD test, a, is that, go see a psychologist

or a counselor, go to an attorney, end my relationship with Shauna, break it off with Shauna right then and there. And you thought to yourself, what, I can do all that? If that's what she wants me to do in a heartbeat, and whatever flaming hoop

that she would want me to jump through, I had my life back for a mere moment. I mean, as it's slipping through my hands, but if I could grasp a little bit and hold on to it and do what she does, I would have my life back. So whatever Heather wanted me to do, I would have done. The first step on Ig's road to redemption was for him to tell Shauna their affair was over. And I called Shauna directly in front of Heather. With Heather on the extension? Heather was right in front of me. But it was evident that obviously I talked to Shauna

because the text started coming in on Heather's phone, my phone, and the house phone within 15 minutes. The call to Shauna that Monday night had been short and sweet, just more than a minute. The blowback would last for weeks. Soon after Ig hung up the phone with Shauna at 7.07 that evening, his cell phone lit up with angry emails, phone calls, and text messages, all from Shauna. My loyalty is gone. Be prepared, read one. You have no heart, read another. Heather's phone received a text with a picture of Ig and Shauna's infant son, Christian, which was captioned,

Ig's flesh and blood. She's working through all these different channels. Why are you going? And I don't know if that was like, I still can get you from all different ways. I don't know. And then this voice message left on the Garris family landline. You see now, I'm getting an attorney tomorrow, and I will get a DNA test, and you will pay me monthly. If you think that you guys have no money now, you're really going to have no money later. The next day dawned bright and sunny. Blue sky and blinding light reflected off the snow-covered landscape. Shawna knew that Egg, who'd rotated back to

patrol duty, would be in traffic court for a routine hearing on one of his cases. She paced as she waited beside his car for that face-to-face confrontation she believed was her due. I went there because I felt like after three years that he at least needed to look me in the face and say, it's over, rather than a minute and 30-second phone call. When he finally exited the courthouse, Shawna stepped forward, her chin lifted in a small motion of pride and defiance. And Ig just brushed past her. Nothing to talk about, he said. It's over.

As Ig drove away, he called Heather on his cell to let her know he had just seen Shauna. Because that, too, was part of the new redemption package. Total transparency. Any and all contacts with Shauna would be immediately shared. And there was a lot to share in those first few days. The volume of vitriol via text message and voicemail from Shauna was so high that Heather and Ig had to change their numbers before flying to Florida for a previously planned Christmas

vacation. Still, Shauna's outrage at being summarily dismissed seemed unquenchable. This is an email she sent to Ig while he was away. I see why you're doing this now. I'm the best lover you've ever had and the most loyal woman ever to be in your life. It all makes sense to me now why you would choose the other life filled with vanilla and fat. Shauna thought that she was this wild person. I don't know what she thought, but that I was just settling to being just married and having a family and chugging along. So that's a dig on Heather.

But I didn't send that one to Heather. Shauna could say whatever she wants to say about me. Whatever. But, you know, Heather didn't deserve any more pain. Once the Garrises returned from Florida, the tit-for-tat turned legal. Ig had his lawyer send Shawna a cease-and-desist letter. Shawna hired a lawyer to formalize a child support arrangement and legally sever

Ig's parental rights to Christian, an arrangement that Ig fully supported. How'd you think this was going to play out? Well, it was agreed between Heather and I that ultimately we're going to pull up roots and move somewhere else. The police thing had gotten a little bit old and I had become a little bit cynical, the way things had been. And we were going to start somewhere, like, probably move down to Denver. We even considered moving down to Florida. You were going to start fresh? Start fresh, because Greeley was wearing on us.

For the most part, however, it seemed 2007 would be the year Ig and Heather's relationship returned to solid ground. They went to counseling, and their communication improved. It was a time that nobody could ever take away from us. And life was good. I mean, we laughed, we loved. It was just... You got a second chance. You're describing a remarkably understanding woman.

Yes. Did friends or family tell her, you're making it too easy for this guy? Friends said that they supported what she would choose to do. But you should set conditions on Ig about what Ig needs to do to shape up and do these things. And she did, and you... And I did.

And you delivered. Yes. He did make a stupid mistake. I am angry for him for the stupid mistake. Heather's sister Wendy and her best friend Jamie both told me they supported her decision to reconcile with Ig because it was clear that was what Heather wanted. They were going to try to work out their marriage. They were going to try to work out the issues. And that makes you feel a little better. She had her old marriage back. I didn't have to tell him to do it. He did it on

his own. He's doing all of this on his own. They were joking. They were laughing. They were enjoying each other again. It was like this big weight on both sides and then lifted off. That was the main thing. She did ask me too if I supported her. And I said, Heather, I would stick by you for any decision that you decided to make. And you know that. And I did tell her that I couldn't be around Ig for a little while because I had my own angers that I needed to get out. But knowing that she wanted to save the marriage makes it a little easier for the two of you to forgive Ig.

It does. So it was pretty good between you guys at the end there. Pretty darn awesome. The way it had been? It was like, actually, it was more like when we were in college. She told the girls it was like a time machine. Yeah, we went back.

Unfortunately, those happy days of reconciliation were numbered. In a matter of weeks, Heather Garris would be dead. The end of 2006 and the beginning of 2007 brought a winter wonderland to Greeley, Colorado. Snowstorms hid the ugly parts of town and softened its hard edges. In the hours before street crews created mountain ranges of snow along roadways and parking lots, if one squinted slightly, Greeley could have passed for Frank Capra's

fictional Bedford Falls in the holiday classic, It's a Wonderful Life. Ig Geras seemed to be living a wonderful life. And why shouldn't he? His wife had forgiven his multi-year extramarital affair, which was a betrayal of monstrous proportions. Even the other woman in Igg's infernal, eternal triangle seemed to have moved on. By late January 2007, the nasty texts, phone calls, and emails from Shauna had stopped. In fact, Ig told me that on the very day his life changed forever, he'd walked right past Shauna and her kids at a local strip mall without incident.

Not a hard staircase. Shauna's got three children, and she's walking into the subway, and she didn't say anything to me, which actually made me feel better. The last day of Heather Garris' life started like all the others, in a mad rush to get herself and Victoria out the door on time.

Ig, who'd just returned home after working the late shift, remembers it well. It was the way it always was. The girls were scrambling to try to get ready. Victoria and Mom were squawking back and forth to each other to get her ready for school. And then I gave her a kiss and, you know, they went off to Victoria's school and then Heather went to work. And you went to bed?

And I went to bed. And I went to bed. Woke up what time? I'm guessing about 2.30. Got in the shower and got ready for, you know, to go pick up Victoria. Father and daughter went out for ice cream, picked up some groceries and supplies for an upcoming weekend fishing trip, and returned home. Victoria started her homework while Ig started dinner.

Then the phone rang. Well, I was making hamburgers, so I made Victoria. Victoria says, I go, V, answer the phone, honey. And Victoria answers the phone, and she says, it's Sarah. But she says she has to talk to you. So I was like, okay, fine.

I wash my hands. And then she tells me, Heather's been shot. And I needed to go down to the credit union. And I'm like, I mean, can you imagine hearing that? According to Ig, the next thing he did was call Greeley Police Dispatch for confirmation. And ominously, the dispatcher on the other end said he hadn't heard anything about a shooting at the credit union. We don't have any information like that. But I knew that they were lying because the dispatcher directly shifted me to a sergeant, a dispatch supervisor sergeant, which is irregular.

And that man proceeded to lie to me. Why would they do that? Because they thought maybe you were involved? You got me. And they're like, we don't know what you're talking about, Ig. Frantic now, Ig says he bundled up Victoria and sped toward the credit union. As soon as he pulled into the parking lot off of 11th Avenue, he saw a scene he knew all too well. Flashing red and blue lights, yellow crime tape, and an ambulance. And I put Victoria and said, stay in the truck. And I broke the crime scene and I walked in. And then a sergeant stops me and grabs me by the arm.

He goes, Ig, you need to stop, Ig. You need to stop. And I'm like, get your hand off me. I go, what's going on? He goes, you need to go to the hospital with Heather. I go, what's going on? And he was wishy-washy. And there you'll see some of the anchor from me, but he was wishy-washy.

And when I catch wishy-washy as being a cop for so long, I know it's bad. Eventually, Ig and Victoria were coaxed into a police cruiser, which took them the short distance to the Northern Colorado Medical Center and the ER. You have to get a key code to get in through the back way of the hospital. So I knew it. So I left Victoria in the police car, and I went flying into the trauma room,

and then the doctor stops me at the door. I never saw Heather. The doctor says to you, Heather's gone, Ig. I knew the doctor. We know everybody in the ER. He says, Heather's gone. And I mean, I knew...

For them to stop me at the door, I knew there was a reason they didn't want me to see something. I'm grateful now that I guess they didn't let me go in a seat because I couldn't imagine my beautiful Heather like that. And then these people try to surround me and hold me and give me a chair. And it's like, get the hell away from me. I got to go get my kid. So I go and I pull Victoria from a troll car. And Victoria, mommy's dead.

Imagine telling your kid that. So we sat there out in the cold crying and I can't even explain it to you. Deputy Sheriff Ken Nelson sat in the dark. His thoughts must have been a hopeless tangle of wet knots. The kids were okay, and that was the main thing. Eight-year-old Dylan, the oldest, had been standing in the hall holding a karaoke machine when Ken had dropped by the house

to grab a bite before his six o'clock task force meeting. The younger ones, Jordan, seven, and Christian, nine months, were in the basement. Ken had no idea how long they'd been alone. He hadn't seen Shauna. The kids had said she was taking a bath,

but Ken knocked on the locked bedroom door and called her name, and Shauna didn't answer. No matter, the kids were safe now. After picking them up, he'd taken them to a high school where his sister was watching a basketball game. He'd made the handoff in a parking lot. How long had he been sitting there, parked on the shoulder of the long driveway that led to the drug task force offside headquarters? Was it five minutes? Was it ten? Was it longer? One can only imagine what he was thinking. His wife, a lawman's wife, the mother of his children, arrested for murder. It's a recipe for shame. By then, Ken probably suspected his wife's face and hands had been tested for gunshot residue. He may even have imagined her sitting alone in a holding cell or an interrogation room and being grilled by detectives. After all those years carrying a badge,

Ken Nelson certainly knew the drill. It's likely he was so lost in thought that he barely noticed the headlights that washed across his Jeep, briefly illuminating the interior. Then came a light tap on the window. When he glanced over, he saw Jonathan Trahan, one of the task force guys, who was peering in. Trahan had just returned from taking Sergeant Halsey's car to him. Halsey had been stranded in the middle of the road with Shawna when Ken had driven off to check on the kids.

So much of the past hour had been a blur to Ken Nelson. Not to Jonathan Trahan. He'd been in the bullpen when the radio call came in about a shooting at the credit union. And he'd been one of those who'd looked at Ken when Shawna's name was broadcast as a possible suspect. When I opened up the passenger side door, I immediately saw that there was a Glock handgun in a holster sitting on the passenger seat. That's the voice of Jonathan Trahan.

I picked up the handgun so I wouldn't have to sit on it and held it in my lap. At that point in time, I was more concerned with Ken's mental well-being and I didn't want him to be alone. I could tell he was upset. I didn't try and question him about anything. And the only thing he said during our, while I was in the vehicle was, and I quote, what the was she thinking? And she left the kids alone. Trahan was one of the younger guys, four years on the Evans, Colorado police force before being assigned to the task force. His dark hair was conservatively cut, his youthful face unlined. After being there approximately five to ten minutes, Sergeant Halsey returned to the off-site, and I exited Ken's vehicle.

As I was exiting the vehicle, I still had the handgun in my hands, and he told me that I should take that with me. Why had Ken thought it important that Trahan take his service weapon? Trahan didn't know. He did as he was told, and turned it over to the swing shift sergeant, who in turn gave it to the evidence and property cops. It would be there for months, before anyone gave that Glock a second thought, because no one could have imagined the secret it contained.

A secret just waiting to be discovered. Next time on Internal Affairs. And Greg is like, why would we want to turn that in? It was on his hip when this murder happened. I'm like, I don't know, man. Let's just be thorough. I know you, but that doesn't have any relevance over these rights. No, you still have to do your job. I have to do my job. You still have these rights. I don't know what to do. I don't know what my side is. I don't understand this.

This is all kind of overwhelming, Greg. I know. One minute I'm going to the liquor store, and the next minute Ken's jumping out of the truck. The sweatpants she was wearing and the underwear were not hers. They were men's and very big. You know, so at the time, they're just oversized clothes. I'm not Norris Gregg kind of realizing she's wearing her husband's dirty clothes.

Internal Affairs is a production of Dateline and NBC News. Tim Beecham is the producer. David Varga and Jonathan Moser are audio editors. Matt Sullivan is assistant audio editor. Susan Nall is senior producer. Adam Gorfain is co-executive producer. Liz Cole is executive producer. And David Corvo is senior executive producer. From NBC News Audio, Bryson Barnes is technical director. Sound mixing by Bob Mallory. Nina Bisbono is associate producer.