The Binge Cases: Denise Didn't Come Home - Fake Priest | 4. Llama Drama

Episode Date: September 3, 2020

After Father Ryan steals a follower's money, her property and even her husband's ashes, she hires a lawyer. A legal battle ensues over unpaid loans and a herd of llamas that Father Ryan leaves high and dry. A Neon Hum Media and Sony Music Entertainment production. Subscribe on Apple Podcasts to binge all episodes now or listen weekly wherever you get your podcasts. Find more great podcasts from Sony Music Entertainment at sonymusic.com/podcasts Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

As a kid growing up in Chicago, there was one horror movie I was too scared to watch. It was called Candyman. It was about this supernatural killer who would attack his victims if they said his name five times into a bathroom mirror. But did you know that the movie Candyman was partly inspired by an actual murder? I was struck by both how spooky it was, but also how outrageous it was. Listen to Candyman, the true story behind the bathroom mirror murder, wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Jesse Tyler Ferguson, host of the podcast Dinners on Me.

Over fries and yuzu mocktails, Josh Gad and I discussed the roles we auditioned for and didn't get, for better or worse. Did you audition for The Office? I auditioned for Dwight Schrute. So did I! So did I! The reject pile for Dwight Schrute. There's a lot of us.

A lot of us. Check out the full episode by searching Dinners on Me wherever you listen to podcasts. She may seem a little skittish, is a llama limbo contest. I'm watching a video from a contest at the Iowa State Fair. People are seeing whose llama is trained well enough to make it under the limbo bar. I had no idea llamas could do tricks or were even all that smart until I talked to the guy emceeing this contest. They're a magnificent animal. They're beautiful. They're highly independent. His name is Steve Auld.

Steve is kind of a fixture at llama events in the Midwest. But believe it or not, at one point in time, Father Ryan was too. He was spotted at several llama conferences or state fairs, nuns in tow. They were active in the show industry, the showing of their llamas, for several years. And we had bumped into them at some of the national shows. Father Ryan would come to have a herd of 19 rare Argentine llamas. It's just another one of those moments, as you learn about this guy,

where all you can do is shake your head. Llamas? He even opened a business called Monastic Fleece. You know, there were plenty of people in the llama industry who thought it was legitimate, and there were plenty of people in the industry who referred to him as the fake father. So it was, you know, kind of a, it was a weird situation. We didn't have a lot of interaction with him at the time. Father Ryan and his followers seemed happy enough when they were out in public. But behind the scenes, something much darker was happening.

And before it was all over, Father Ryan's llamas would be used as evidence in a case against him. From Neon Home Media, I'm Alex Schumann, and this is Smokescreen, Fake Priest. The story of the llamas, and all that follows, really begins in 2004. After leaving Arizona and Marvin Cucera, Father Ryan returned to the Midwest. He ended up in Galesburg, Illinois. He found a single-story nursing home, and that's where he set up the fourth installment

of his Holy Rosary Abbey. Then Father Ryan started raking in donations and stealing property from his followers. This abbey would be his moneymaker. He flourished as a fake priest during these years, from about 2004 until 2009. A lot of it thanks to what he'd learned in the desert from Kusera's scam. Now, anyone who wanted to serve as a nun or a monk had to sign some documents before they moved in. Basically, they had to agree to give all of their belongings

to the Holy Rosary Abbey. Let me read you one quick part of that contract, or as Father Ryan calls them, admission agreements. Quote, I agree in keeping with the spirit of the vow of poverty. Any and all physical cash brought to said Abbey or sent to me personally must be unreservedly bequeathed to said Abbey. He makes it clear, what's yours is the Abbey's, and in turn, his. A woman in her 60s named Sheila Anderson signed one of these admission agreements. It was 2005. When Sheila met Father Ryan, she was a grieving widow. Here's Dan Dineen, who would eventually become her lawyer. She was very vulnerable after her

husband died, and obviously a very spiritual and religious woman. So religious, she wanted to be a nun. She wanted to give back. That's why she'd moved to the Holy Rosary Abbey. Giving is a big part of Catholicism. It's a way to express your gratitude to God. You can give your time or money. It's a spiritual thing, not just about helping churches pay their bills. Sheila believed contributing was her duty and that Father Ryan was worthy.

She trusted him completely. When Father Ryan started playing more of a role in her life, at first, it must have been comforting. He was her pastor. She could confess to him. She could trust him. But then he wanted to advise her on her finances. He started offering her legal advice. And then in no time, Father Ryan was doing Sheila's taxes. He even prepared a will for her. To Dan, this makes Ryan a fiduciary because Sheila trusted him to act on her behalf, trusted him with her money. But let's face it, Father Ryan kind of seemed like a parasite. At least, that's how I see it. He was thriving at the expense of a grieving widow who was also in a lot of pain. You see, Sheila had a medical condition that required extensive pain meds.

It's something Dan thinks Ryan used to his advantage. There was a disparity in their physical condition. There was a disparity in the mental condition. Dan felt Sheila didn't always understand what Ryan was asking her to do. It used to be enough to just steal money from followers. But by the time Father Ryan found Sheila, he wanted more. She wasn't just a mark. It was almost as if he was trying to take over her life. Sheila's lawyer believes Ryan helped her sell her home. What kind of a priest does that?

He then got control of her bank account. When he took over, there was $134,000 in the account. By the time she eventually got away from the Holy Rosary Abbey, there was almost nothing left. Sheila stuck with Ryan for almost five years in Galesburg, Illinois. It was Father Ryan's heyday. He had followers like Sheila giving him money so he could afford to stick around. He didn't have to leave town to avoid bills he couldn't pay. And Sheila wasn't the only person giving Ryan money. I found court records from a lawsuit against him. There's photocopies of checks mailed to Father Ryan. It's 103 pages of pictures. There's multiple checks on every page.

Francis in Illinois gave $600. Leo in Iowa gave $500. Nancy mailed a $100 check from Florida. Donations from New York, Washington, and Virginia. People nationwide read a newsletter Father Ryan wrote. And that's how they became believers. Many of them had never even attended a service, but they still sent checks to Father Ryan. Checks ranging from $8 to thousands. You don't send $8 unless you believe. In this period, Father Ryan was a big spender, kind of a red flag given he was supposed to be a priest who was trying to live modestly. But hey, he liked to buy things on eBay.

He bid on religious relics and antiques. And eventually, he also got himself those llamas. Llamas, especially at that time, and especially the kind he bought, were extremely expensive. That gives you an idea of the amount of money being spent here. This guy bought an entire herd of llamas. That gives you an idea of the amount of money being spent here. This guy bought an entire herd of llamas. He had the people send in money to him so that he could run around the country and buy llamas and buy religious relics and do things like that,

while Sheila Anderson and other persons were back in the monastery, while he was on these little joy trips of his. So the Holy Rosary Abbey was doing okay, until almost nobody was doing okay. It was the worst day on Wall Street since the crash of 1987. The stock market is now down 21%. This could be the most serious recession in decades. And that means life, as most Americans know it, is about to change, in some cases dramatically.

The financial crisis in 2008 wiped out lots of retirement accounts and started the Great Recession. Donations to the Abbey slowed. Around this time, Sheila agreed to loan Father Ryan some money to help keep the Abbey going and repair the roof. That first loan was $20,000. And then there was a second loan to Holy Rosary Abbey in 2009 for $130,000. All told, Sheila lent more than $150,000 in the middle of a recession. She thought she would get the money back. These were loans, right? Father Ryan brazenly disagreed. He treated the loans like donations and made no effort to pay Sheila back. Instead,

he just kept spending his time and her money buying things on eBay. One of Sheila's jobs at the Abbey had been to help keep track of eBay shipments, so she saw quite plainly where her money was going. And one day, she finally had had enough. Something clicked for her when Father Ryan refused to pay back the loans. He wasn't holy. He wasn't devoted to God. He wouldn't give back her money. He was a disappointment. She decided to leave the Abbey. But before she went, she wrote Father Ryan to tell him how she felt. I'm not sure why she would have written him a letter when she lived in the same building, but that's how it went down.

What you're about to hear is not Sheila's voice, but the words are hers. On May 25, 2010, Sheila wrote, Lord Abbott, I fully intend on honoring my vows. On May 25, 2010, Sheila wrote, many signs of instability and irrational thinking of which your memos clearly show. I will no longer allow you to swear at me, to shove your chair at me in anger, or yell at me in a loud voice in anger, or any other ways you have manifested your disapproval of me. Sheila also demanded a list of things she wanted back from Father Ryan before leaving. The list includes her original will, a gold wedding ring set, the legal document giving Father Ryan power of attorney over her affairs,

other personal documents, and even her husband Tom's ashes. Father Ryan promised to return everything, but never did. So Sheila reached out to a lawyer, Dan Dineen. Sheila called because, as I recall, something was not right, and she had left the convent, and she wasn't able to even get her property back from Ryan Scott. Dan tried to help her get some of it back, but Father Ryan was stubborn. He did not allow her to have her furniture and other property when she moved back to Bloomington. And what was his reasoning?

Ryan Scott never has any reasoning. It's all for him and what he wants. And he's like people like that. He liked to bully her. Once Dan was in the picture, though, things changed. But when he came across someone like me, he doesn't like that because the person understands that he's full of it and that he's not going to get away with it. Dan filed a civil lawsuit to try to get Sheila's money back. They compiled a bunch of evidence. And when Ryan didn't even show up to court, Sheila won. An Illinois judge ordered Father Ryan to pay Sheila back more than $160,000.

Father Ryan didn't react well. I believe he issued some statements that Deneen threatened him, and all I've threatened him with is legal proceedings, and he doesn't like being called to account for his actions. But Father Ryan wouldn't take this setback lying down. He countered. In December 2011, Ryan filed for bankruptcy protection for him and the Abbey. That put an automatic stop on creditors like Sheila. It meant, until the bankruptcy was done, she couldn't get any of her stuff back. People sometimes use this tactic to reset after a failed business.

But Dan thinks Ryan just wanted to buy himself time and avoid the judge's order. In the previous year, I wrote to his attorney and told him that there was a lot of money owed to Sheila and she wants it all back. And that's, I think within a week or two is when he started his Iowa corporation and started the shift, the set up shop over in Iowa. After almost five years in the same spot in Illinois, he moved to Iowa.

But he didn't declare bankruptcy and start something new from scratch. Instead, Dan said Father Ryan tried to secretly move what he had at the Abbey in Galesburg to his new location in Iowa. That's fraudulent transfer. At least, that's how Dan sees it. And it's illegal.

If someone sends you a bill, you can't move somewhere else to avoid paying the bill. Dan was pretty confident Father Ryan did move things across state lines because they caught his followers doing it. If you go to the Abbey in Galesburg, if you go around the back, well, his monk, so-called monk, was there loading up trucks to go from Illinois over to Iowa. Dan said they gave this guy a list of what Sheila wanted back. We marked down and he even made notations on it as to what's moved to Iowa,

what was still there, and what he didn't know about. This so-called monk would sign an affidavit. It said Ryan was the one who told them to move things from Illinois to Iowa. Some of the property in dispute would even include those llamas. 19 of them, in fact. The same llamas that once in Iowa would get the attention of a certain newspaper reporter.

Hi, I'm Jesse Tyler Ferguson, host of the podcast Dinners on Me. we'd get the attention of a certain newspaper reporter. Audition for Dwight Schrute. So did I. So did I. Yep. The reject pile for Dwight Schrute. There's a lot of us. A lot of us. Check out the full episode by searching Dinners on Me wherever you listen to podcasts. Dennis McGee is grabbing something from the other room. This is back when we first talked at his house in northeast Iowa. Dennis's sister got him this little ceramic llama. She actually bought that for me. He set it down on the kitchen table. The belly of the llama is cut out and inside the gut is a baby Jesus. I got a

nativity inside the belly of a llama. I mean, you can't get any better than that. At one point, this unique piece of art belonged to Father Ryan. Dennis's sister bought it after Father Ryan abandoned the Abbey near Independence, Iowa. Everything from the Abbey was sold at the auction to help pay off the bankruptcy debts. Dennis showed me pictures he had from back then. One showed a sheriff deputy guarding relics. Another image had a small crowd out on the lawn of the church. This is us leaving the courthouse.

That's the bankruptcy trustee. Remember, people complaining about his paper's positive coverage of the llamas is what got Dennis' attention in the first place. More than a year later, Dennis wrote a story with the headline Llama Drama for the front page of the Waterloo Courier. The drama was that these llamas were part of the bankruptcy. So in theory, they could be worth money that should go to someone Father Ryan owed. Someone like Sheila. But Father Ryan had abandoned all 19 llamas, so the bankruptcy trustee was the one who had to figure it all out. Were these llamas worth anything? And how do you even take care of llamas?

So the trustee called Steve Auld. It was a cold January day in Iowa, like any January day in Iowa would be. And we received a call from the U.S. bankruptcy attorney, and they were up at the farm. And they were just looking for someone to come out and evaluate the herd to make sure that they were healthy. Steve's been around llamas for almost 30 years. He was a member of the Iowa Llama Association. We were introduced to the llama industry by my uncle back in about 1989. He now operates a llama farm in Missouri. They all have their own unique personalities, and getting to know and understand that personality

of each animal is one of the challenges. Steve is a machine when it comes to llama facts. Llamas will learn their name, much like a dog. I mean, a well-trained llama will follow you like a well-trained dog. Because of their intelligence, they're highly trainable, and they can become public relations animals. You can get them certified to be in hospitals and, you know, as therapy and companion animals. Even though he's now based in Missouri,

Steve is still the webmaster for the Iowa Llama Association website. He'll accept rescue llamas. That's how he ended up getting the call. You know, when the U.S. District Attorney's Office or bankruptcy court finds themselves with 19 animals on their hands, who are they going to call to help them out? When he got there, Steve did have at least one pleasant surprise. It was very nice to see that, you know, of all the shady things that had seemed to have gone on

or the things we'd heard about going on, that the one thing they took care of was these animals. But even if Father Ryan took good care of them at one time, he left them high and dry when abandoning the Iowa Abbey. Like literally dry. The water and electricity for the building were off. Steve said the bankruptcy officials had to get creative. With the water turned off, they were taking gallon jugs of water from convenience stores and going out there and filling like five gallon buckets for these llamas to have water. And llama water consumption in the winter can be very high because they're eating a very dry forage, you know, in hay.

Wow, that seems like a ton of work. Yes, it could be Herculean with 19 llamas. Steve and his wife made room for the 19 new arrivals in their pasture. So we drove up the next day with our trailer and made two trips, loaded them up, took them back to our farm. It turned out Father Ryan's llamas were kind of remarkable. So llamas don't have a breed per se. I mean, it's not like dogs. But they do have countries of origin which can dictate some of their characteristics. And the normal countries of origin are

Peru, Chile, Argentina, and Bolivia. Well, these happen to be largely 100% Argentine llamas, which are one of the rarer, you know, I hate to use the word breeds, but it's the only thing that really makes sense in this context, but one of the rarer breeds of llamas, especially at 100%. So Father Ryan had rare Argentine llamas. What could they be worth? It turns out that before the 2008 recession, a lot. Back in the 80s and 90s, you know, 100% Argentine animal could go for well over $100,000. $100,000? Absolutely. We know a gentleman out of Iowa who's been in the industry over 50 years, and he remembers sitting at auctions where animals went for $250,000. But in 2012, it was a different story. Steve estimated the price

would have been down to $3,000 or $4,000 for each Argentine llama. With, you know, nobody having money, a niche industry is not where they're going to spend it. That meant selling them off would likely not be enough to repay Sheila. In 2012, the bankruptcy court summoned Father Ryan, and this gave attorney Dan Dineen a chance to ask Ryan his own questions. One of the many things that can come with a bankruptcy is a hearing. Father Ryan's was in Knox County, Illinois. He appeared in front of the people trying to untangle his complicated past. It was January 13th, 2012. All right, would you raise your right hand, please? Do you silently swear or affirm to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth? All right, just have a seat there.

Until listening to the hearing, I hadn't heard Father Ryan's voice. I'd been doing this investigation for months, so this was kind of a moment. Would you state your name for the record, please? Ryan Patrick Scott Gevlinger.

Ryan Patrick Scott Gevlinger. By then, he'd picked up an extra name. He spoke much more softly than I thought he would. He's practically whispering into the microphone. So there was an adult adoption? Correct. When did the adult adoption take place? Two years ago.

Right. That's why he has a new name. When I first heard his voice, I thought, how weird. How almost meek. But then I realized he's trying to sound unthreatening. Where was it built it up? In this court. And here in Knox County? Yes. The trustee immediately questions Ryan about his real identity. Why did you sign one document with a different name than the one on your driver's license? Is your last name Scott or Gabelinger? Gabelinger.

They have a hard time getting straight answers. You know it's not a good sign if the people tasked with unraveling all your finances need to take time, at least twice, to make sure they even have the right last name. I've used Ryan Patrick Scott since the church changed it in 1977. What church changed you? The Catholic Church. He mentions the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 as a reason for his name change.

After 9-11, I had no way of proving who I was. So my attorney at the time suggested that an adult adoption be done so that I could get driver's license and necessary things. The trustees can't follow what he's saying. To be honest, neither could I. For whole parts of this hearing, Father Ryan didn't make any sense. And maybe I misunderstood, but I thought that you had told me the church changed your name. The church changed it originally, my name. I was born with Ryan Patrick's, or with Randall Dean Stocks. I'm sorry, say that again.

Randall Dean Stocks. Eventually, they get to the llamas. One of the biggest questions they want to solve is, should these llamas be sold to help pay back Sheila? The llamas moved, yes, in July of 2011. Ryan admits to moving them from one abbey to the other. He says he decided to move his herd before a judge ordered he pay Sheila back. At the hearing, Dan Dineen got his chance to grill him about that timing. He calls him out for moving assets around.

When did you sign that? On 8-1 of 11. Were you served with a citation to discover assets on that date that prohibited you from transferring property or allowing the transfer of property? Not that I recall. Could you look to the second or third page of Exhibit A and see if that refreshes your memory? He shows him a piece of paper that proves Father Ryan knew he couldn't move the llamas and other property. Does that refresh your memory?

No, it does not. Oh, okay. Dan and Ryan go back and forth. They argue whether Father Ryan actually owes Sheila Anderson any money. The bankruptcy court holds multiple hearings, but Father Ryan never appears before them again. Father Ryan actually started to avoid Illinois because when Sheila decided she wanted her money back, she didn't just call Dan. She also reached out to Knox County Prosecutor Eric Gibson. I first looked at this in 2010 and we filed in 2012. Eric Gibson's

jurisdiction included Galesburg, where Sheila lived when she was at the Holy Rosary Abbey. It was another nice Midwest town, this one in Western Illinois. In Eric, Sheila ends up finding someone who's not only willing to take the case, he also takes the time to build one. The case becomes kind of a passion project for Eric. This wasn't something we did on a whim. This is something that we put a lot of effort into. Eric thinks a lot of prosecutors would have chosen not to take the case. It's complicated, not open and shut, which means you could lose.

You know, that jury appeal we talked about. This wasn't you roll into the courtroom, you have the smoking gun, and you get a conviction, and the jury, you know, takes 15 minutes. One reason Eric took the case is that he realized Sheila wasn't his only victim. Father Ryan was fleecing a lot of people.

This was more of a long-standing con than what I initially believed. In 2012, Eric felt he had enough evidence. He charged Father Ryan with three counts of financial exploitation of an elderly person, three counts of theft, and one count of deceptive practices. The way Illinois

does criminal law, the only things above it are murder and class X felonies. But then, Eric made a decision that would have an unexpected result.

His ambition went beyond pursuing unique cases. He wanted to run for office, specifically his boss's office. Yeah, it looks like we filed this initially in February of 2012. I filed to run for Knox County State's attorney in June of that year. And to clarify, he ran against his boss, Jim Pettmeyer, Knox County's top prosecutor. After I filed my paperwork, I got stripped of doing felonies, and I got reassigned to doing juvenile abuse and neglect cases and juvenile delinquency cases.

So this got reassigned to somebody else. I couldn't tell you for sure who it was. He didn't realize this would happen, but he gets reassigned. That had devastating consequences for Sheila's case against Father Ryan. The case ended up with another prosecutor. I'll let Dan explain what happened next. Unfortunately, the assistant state's attorney dropped the ball and it was ready to proceed with trial, but they had not disclosed any witnesses. So they would not have had any witnesses to testify except Sheila, who at the time was not in a good position because of medical problems to testify. So the state's attorney was forced to dismiss the charges with prejudice. So Ryan Scott didn't get a criminal conviction in the state of Illinois.

The whole case falls apart. Father Ryan escaped again. But as far as I can tell, it's not due to lack of evidence. It's because of politics. And the new prosecutor seemed to drop the ball. Father Ryan could have

maybe been stopped in 2012. I don't understand. If the charges had been filed, how the case can just collapse? Sheila would get a little bit of money back. Dan learned that Ryan was selling a car that the court said should be used to pay Sheila. He made his case to a judge in Illinois. Dan won. The judge found him to be in indirect civil contempt of court.

Ryan didn't show up to court when the judge ordered him to explain why he was selling the cars. So the judge issued a warrant that would have allowed for his arrest. The people in Missouri assured me that they would arrest him, but they would need to have the sheriff of his county indicate that they would process an extradition and go down there and pick him up. And the sheriff asked the state's attorney for authorization to do so, and it's my understanding John Peppemeier said no. So we were unable to get Ryan Scott back into the jail, in which case we might have recovered an extra $25,000 to $50,000 of property.

Eric is now a prosecutor in a different Illinois county. I would love to tell you I was shocked that it got dismissed after I was out of there, but unfortunately there were a lot of cases that I was heavily involved in that seemed to have gotten settled for pennies on the dollar, if you will. Father Ryan escaped again. This guy, he always manages to avoid trouble. It's stunning. But soon, Father Ryan's luck would run out.

And then they also told their parishioners to have nothing to do with him. Don't go to his masses. His next Abbey would be his last. But that doesn't mean his con was over. Next time on Fake Priest. I brought him in. I got him clothes. I got him clothing. I got him furniture. Fixed his car. And people say, why'd you do that? Why'd you do that? Well, I did it out of the goodness of my heart, but he also said he's going to pay me back.

He's got old time religion. There is his cash in a coffee can. And he makes his decisions down on his knees. He's a full grown man. Fake Priest is a production of Neon Hum Media. a full-grown man and he... Thanks to Matt McGinley for our theme music and to Blue Dot Sessions for tracks you hear on this episode. Sound design and additional composition by Jesse Pearlstein. And the song you're hearing now is Old Time Religion by Parker Millsap. Our engineer is Scott Somerville. Special thanks to Carolyn Somerville, Peter Manseau,

Shara Morris, and Vikram Patel.