Javascript is not enabled.

Javascript must be enabled to use this site. Please enable Javascript in your browser and try again.

Skip to content
Content starts here
CLOSE ×
Search
CLOSE ×
Search
Leaving AARP.org Website

You are now leaving AARP.org and going to a website that is not operated by AARP. A different privacy policy and terms of service will apply.

AARP’s ‘Fraud Wars’ Episode 2: Behind Her Boyfriend’s Blue Eyes, a Romance Scammer Lurked

‘I am broke but not broken,’ says Jackie Crenshaw, who had nearly $1 million stolen by a fake suitor in an investment scam


Call AARP Fraud Watch Network™ Helpline for assistance with and advice on scams: 877-908-3360. Toll-free service is available Monday through Friday, 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. ET.

When she saw Brandon Miller’s photo, Jackie Crenshaw was drawn to his beautiful blue eyes.

“I was like, Oh, my goodness,” she says, sounding impressed, even now.

Crenshaw, 61, had joined an African American dating site in 2023 and was charmed after connecting with Brandon. He was attentive and attractive, a widower with two small boys. When he spoke with Crenshaw each night, he suggested they pray together.

Crenshaw had not been in a serious relationship for 10 years. She worked 12-hour days as a senior manager for breast imaging at Yale New Haven Hospital in Connecticut and served as an educational outreach coordinator for Sisters’ Journey, a support group for women of color who have survived breast cancer. She was happy to find companionship. But she’d later learn that Brandon was a fake — a romance scammer — who’d devastate her emotionally and financially.  

Gaining her trust

The relationship moved fast. Within weeks, the couple spoke and texted frequently, though they had not met in person. He worked in construction, he said, but it was a government project, which he couldn’t discuss.

“We were supposed to meet,” she says, “but every time, there was an excuse.”

After a few months, he mentioned an investment opportunity. He said he had become an expert on cryptocurrency during the COVID pandemic, and by now, Crenshaw trusted him. He sent gifts, including a necklace with her picture on one side and his on the other. She had started texting with Brandon’s kids. If she told him she was hungry after a long day at work, delivery workers would arrive with food.

“It made me feel [like] this person really cares about me,” she says. “He went to great lengths to gain my trust and get my guard down. I started to think, This is someone I could spend my life with.”

Join Our Fight Against Fraud

Here’s what you can do to help protect people 50 and older from scams and fraud:

  • Sign up to become a digital fraud fighter to help raise awareness about the latest scams.
  • Read more about how we’re fighting for you every day in Congress and across the country.
  • AARP is your fierce defender on the issues that matter to people 50-plus. Become a member or renew your membership today. 

Soon Brandon sent her receipts from Coinclusta — a supposed crypto company — showing that his $170,000 investment had grown to nearly $2 million. After doing some research, she also decided to invest, borrowing $40,000 from her retirement account. Later, she’d take out a $189,000 loan against her home.

A broker, Mike, helped create the account and provided her with expertise. But Mike, Brandon, Brandon’s kids, and his statements were all fake.

A suspicious check 

After Crenshaw invested $40,000, Brandon sent her a statement that showed the value had jumped to $100,000.

“He was like, ‘I just wanted to give you $60,000 to get you started so you could get to where I am,’ ” she says. Next, he forwarded her a check for $100,000 as a “return.” The check was written by a woman with an address in Vero Beach, Florida. Crenshaw was suspicious. 

“I didn’t think it was real,” she says. “I had only been talking to him for six weeks, and he said it was for our future. My best friend told me I needed to go to the police, just in case. I didn’t want to be charged with money laundering.” 

When she shared her fraud concerns with local police, the officers were dismissive. “They blew me off,” she says.

She then called the bank that issued the check; the bank said the account was legitimate. Crenshaw would later learn that the woman who wrote the check had also sent $100,000 checks to other investors. The Florida woman was being victimized in the same investment scam.

The terrible truth

Crenshaw had thought the money she was investing — and the money from Brandon — was being transferred to her e-wallet.

“There was a code you’d have to use, and that’s why I thought it was legit,” she says. “But once it was in that e-wallet, poof — it was gone. They’re sending me fake statements, and I’m thinking I’m making all this profit. Instead, I was just giving [them] the money.”

Crenshaw thought she’d earned more than $1 million at that point. Best of all, she was finally going to meet Brandon in person.

“The holidays were coming, and he was supposedly purchasing a flight,” she recalls. “His job supposedly took him from New York to California. So now he’s in California, and he’s got to get this project done and is not able to get away. He just wants to get this project done, and we’re gonna be together.” 

Brandon sent Crenshaw real estate information on homes where they might live. Most were listed for anywhere from $1 million to $2 million. He could afford it, it seemed: According to fake statements he sent, his account was now worth almost $3 million. When they started discussing her 60th birthday, he told her she had a blank check to plan a yacht party. She made a $1,000 deposit on the ship and bought a gown. 

Then, two weeks before the party, in June 2024, she heard from the local police who had dismissed her a year earlier. They’d received a call from an anonymous male with “a thick Indian accent” who said Crenshaw was a scam victim. He had called, he told the police, because he felt sorry for her.

Days later, she confronted Brandon about the scam. He denied it and continued to call. She stopped responding. Brandon then inflicted further financial damage, using her personal information to apply for loans and credit cards.

Crenshaw had been victimized by a sophisticated international scam, often known as financial grooming (or pig butchering). A Connecticut state police detective traced one e-wallet to China and another to Nigeria. Her total losses were around $1 million.

What she’s learned

Crenshaw contacted the AARP Fraud Watch Network Helpline (877-908-3360) and is sharing her experiences to help others avoid similar scams. Among her lessons:

  1. Stay on the dating platform. Soon after they met, Brandon wanted to move their communications off the dating site and asked for her email address and phone number. This is a common tactic: Scammers want to escape the platform so their actions won’t be detected. The other problem? Once a scammer has your name, phone number and email address, “they can find your family members, your wages, the property you own,” Crenshaw says. “It’s almost like I helped him in my demise.”
  2. Insist on meeting in person. Crenshaw never met Brandon face-to-face or spoke with him by video. It’s a huge red flag when someone repeatedly offers excuses for not being able to meet. 
  3. Beware of “love bombing.” Brandon showered her with gifts — an example of what’s known as love bombing , over-the-top, insincere displays of affection — to manipulate her and gain her trust.
  4. Talk to a financial adviser. Don’t rely on your own research or the advice of a crypto-pushing paramour. If your new love interest objects to you seeking outside expertise, consider that a warning sign.
  5. Do a reverse image search. Crenshaw and a friend conducted a reverse image search to see where Brandon’s photos had appeared online. In her case, it wasn’t helpful — the searches focused on a basketball player named Brandon Miller — but it’s still useful for detecting an image’s source (Brandon’s pics were ultimately traced to someone else’s social media account).  
  6. Speak out. After the scam, Crenshaw testified before Connecticut lawmakers in support of House Bill 6990, which concerned the seizure and forfeiture of digital wallets and virtual currency used in criminal activity. The bill was one of two crypto fraud-related pieces of legislation that the governor signed into law in 2025.

Meanwhile, Crenshaw is still recovering. Her savings are gone, and her home is in foreclosure.  

“It’s a short sale, so I’ve got to find somewhere to live,” she says. “The only thing that’s keeping me afloat is that I have a good job and my health. But it is such a mess.”

She remains resilient, however, and determined to help others avoid similar frauds.

“I’m not hiding,” she says. “I am broke but not broken.”

Unlock Access to AARP Members Edition

Join AARP to Continue

Already a Member?