Argued that a widower raising a 14-year-old boy alone was in her words a developmental risk factor. Attached was a photograph of me at the pool sitting on the deck edge near Preston. Cropped and photoshopped to make it look creepy. Then she took it further. She filed a formal complaint with Colorado Child Protective Services alleging that Cooper was in an unsafe emotional environment.
She used the exact language required to trigger a home visit within 24 hours. CPS agent Yvette Sinclair rang my doorbell at 8:02 Wednesday evening. Business casual, tablet under her arm, brown hair pulled back tight. I invited her in and handed her my badge before she could ask. She read it, tapped her tablet, read the report I was already listed as lead detective on.
Then she looked back up. "Detective Caldwell. The complainant is Vivian Holloway." "Yes, ma'am." She's under grand jury indictment for accessory to felony criminal mischief.
Her 21-year-old son is my primary suspect. Arrest is tomorrow evening at 7:00. Full media coordination." She let out a long breath through her nose. "Detective, I've had six complaints from that woman in the past two years.
All against neighbors. All dismissed. This one just crossed into malicious use of state services. I'll flag it in my report tonight." She left my house at 8:06.
4 minutes on my property. I saved a photograph of her intake form for slide nine. I texted Owen. She filed CPS. Owen texted back within 30 seconds.
"God bless her. That's another felony count. Add it to the deck." Vivian's next move was the phone chain. She personally called the parents of 12 of Cooper's classmates that night, warning them that the new widower on Aspen Ridge Court was unstable and dangerous around children.
Three of those parents called me. Two of them called laughing. One of them, a father named Nathan Ashby, whose lawnmower had been vandalized 4 months earlier in Aspen Heights, said only, "See you at the clubhouse tomorrow night, Detective." Cooper heard about the phone chain from his best friend, Silas Ravenna, at school Thursday morning. Silas asked if his dad was in trouble.
Cooper laughed. He actually laughed. He told Silas, "My dad's not in trouble. Preston Holloway is, and his mom. My dad's arresting her tonight.
Watch the news." Silas apparently did not sleep for the rest of the school day. That evening, while I was still at the sheriff's office running through the final choreography, Preston made the last mistake of his free life. He crawled over my back fence at 10:40 p.m. He had a can of Rust-Oleum in his hand. Same brand, same color, same signature.
He walked directly to the plank in my fence that had Rachel's name carved into it. He spray-painted an obscene image directly over her name. He was live-streaming the whole time. Six of his friends were watching. I was standing in the shadow of my back deck, 20 feet behind him from the moment he came over the fence.
He didn't know. He couldn't see me. My trail cam captured him in 4K. My phone captured him in 4K from a second angle. His own live-stream captured him from a third.