A 71-year-old Arizona woman who fell for a charming online suitor has vanished without a trace, leaving her family to grapple with a nightmare of deception and the chilling possibility that she became the victim of a serial predator. Nancy Ray Hearts, a widow from Kingman, sold her home, her car, and abandoned her entire life to run away with a man she met on a dating site for seniors. That man, authorities now say, is a prolific con artist using nearly 20 different aliases, a stolen identity, and a history of targeting older women.
But what began as a story of a lonely heart seeking love has spiraled into a multi-state investigation involving missing women, cadaver dogs, and federal agencies.
Nancy Hearts had been searching for companionship for years after her husband passed away more than a decade ago. Her daughter, Sherry, described her mother as someone who simply wanted someone to spend time with.
Then along came a man who called himself Ray, a name that matched Nancy’s middle name. The connection was instant. They corresponded several times a day, and Ray would visit for a few days before disappearing for months.
But Nancy grew tired of the distance, and when she threatened to end the relationship, Ray flew from his supposed ranch in Utah to be by her side within 24 hours.
Soon after, Nancy’s life underwent a dramatic transformation. Ray convinced her that the world was coming to an end, that Arizona was unstable due to lava pits beneath the state, and that they needed to flee immediately.
Nancy traded in her Cadillac, transferred her Social Security payments to a debit card, and sold the home she had lived in for most of her life for $50,000 in cash. Her children pleaded with her to keep the house, but Nancy was determined to start a new life with Ray, wherever the wind took them.
On June 2, Nancy left with Ray in an RV.
Her son, sensing something was wrong, wrote down the license plate number. Three days later, on June 5, Sherry spoke with her mother for the last time. Nancy’s final words were, “Well, let God’s will be done.”
After that, the phone went silent. For two months, Nancy’s family heard nothing. Then, emails began arriving, supposedly from Nancy, claiming she was happier than ever and living off the grid in the mountains of New Mexico.
But the tone was wrong, and the email address had been subtly altered: “Arizona cactus wren” had been changed to “Arizona cat-cuss wren,” with the letters C and T flipped.
Sherry and her sister Denise knew instantly that their mother had not written those emails. Denise went to the authorities, but when a deputy contacted the number associated with the email, someone claiming to be Nancy said she wanted to start a new life and wanted no further contact with her family.
The case stalled. Devastated, Denise took the story to Doug McMurdo, a reporter at the Daily Miner. The article generated an outpouring of community concern and led to a private investigator, Lyle Sharman, taking the case.
Lyle Sharman, a seasoned PI with 34 missing persons cases under his belt, made it 35 when he began working for Nancy’s family. His first step was to examine the emails. He contacted the man calling himself Ray, who replied that Nancy was fine and wanted no contact.
Sharman demanded to speak to Nancy directly. Three days later, his phone rang. A woman claiming to be Nancy called him.
But Sharman had never heard Nancy’s real voice, so he scheduled a second call that he could record. Meanwhile, he traced the phone number to an apartment complex in Las Vegas.
Sharman and his team surveilled the apartment and knocked on the door.
It was obvious within minutes that Nancy was not there. The address and name used to set up the phone account were š¯’»š¯’¶š¯“€š¯‘’. When the second call came, Sharman was ready.
He had asked Denise and Sherry to provide three questions only their mother would know. As a wild card, he added a fourth question that even the real Nancy would not know because he made it up himself. The answers were devastating.
The first question: What was the name of the old man who lived across the street when you were kids? The caller did not answer, instead claiming the old man had molested her daughters. The second question: What did my papa call me?
The caller said her stepfather could not stand her because she was the result of an š¯’¶š¯’»š¯’»š¯’¶š¯’¾š¯“‡. Denise knew the truth: her grandfather called her “his Durango doll.” The third and fourth questions also produced false answers.
The color of the Dodge Charger Nancy supposedly drove? The caller said a bluish-green, but Nancy actually owned a Dodge Chargerā€”a question Sharman had invented for his own family. The first two words out of the caller’s mouth told Denise and Sherry everything: “That is not our mother.”
Armed with the recorded call, Sharman convinced the Mohave County Sheriff’s Office to reopen the case. Nancy’s son provided the license plate number he had written down. Investigators traced the name Ray was using: James Browning Wyeth.
That name belonged to a famous American painter who was very much alive and had no connection to the con man. The real James Wyeth filed a report of identity theft. Authorities began searching for the man with a stolen identity, knowing he could be anywhere from Mexico to Montana.
On April 13, Robert Carnahan, a 69-year-old Canadian citizen who had been living illegally in the United States since 1993, was arrested in Yucca, Arizonaā€”just 22 miles from where Nancy had disappeared. He was charged with stolen identity and false information. He was living with another woman, who had also sold all her belongings to start a new life with him.
Authorities believe she was not an accomplice but rather a potential victim. She has since returned to her family in California.
In Carnahan’s Yucca home, police found several guns, one with the serial number filed off, and some of Nancy’s personal possessions.
They have not disclosed what those items are. Carnahan claims he last saw Nancy about a month before his arrest, dropping her off at a local business and never seeing her again. But Sherry, Nancy’s daughter, is certain of a darker fate.
“I know what he did to her. There isn’t a body yet. I don’t understand why he had to do that.
Why couldn’t you have just taken all of her money? Take it, it’s just money.”
The investigation took an even more sinister turn when police searched Carnahan’s computer.
They found the names and phone numbers of at least two other women who had gone missing. Neva Lindley, last seen in Las Vegas in 2011, and Verna Clinton, last seen in Dolan Springs, Arizona, in 2008. Three women are missing, and the only common thread is Robert Carnahan.
Authorities now believe he may have targeted other older women, luring them with promises of love and a new life, then disappearing them.
Mohave County Sheriff’s officials are working with the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security. They are also conducting voice imprints on the recorded call to determine if it was Carnahan himself pretending to be Nancy.
Private investigator Lyle Sharman has begun searching the northern Arizona desert with cadaver dogs. “I’m confident there are other victims out there,” he said. “Denise and Sherry should prepare themselves for the worst.”
Robert Carnahan remains in jail on a $32,000 bond, having pleaded not guilty to all charges. He is a person of interest in the disappearances of Nancy Hearts, Neva Lindley, and Verna Clinton. Police are asking anyone who recognizes his face or has had dealings with him to come forward.
The search for Nancy continues, but her family is haunted by the final question: Why did a man who could have simply taken her money have to take her life? As Sherry put it, “The sad thing is she was just looking for someone to love her.”