Criminal’s Story #1 – Sheri Reeves

Crime Type: Money Mule / Money Laundering

Crime Country: USA

This is a true crime story from the actual criminal’s story as obtained from official and media sources, enhanced by the SCARS Institute Editorial Team. We utilized the SCARS Institute’s AI ‘Jane’ to dive deeper and delve into the minds of these criminals, scammers, and fraudsters, crafting their real stories to reveal their potential motivations and methods. Understanding these perpetrators helps us combat and disrupt crime/scams/fraud more effectively, empowering us with the insights needed to protect others.

WARNING: THIS SCAMMER’S OR CRIMINAL’S STORY MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME PEOPLE. DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

ADVERTENCIA: LA HISTORIA DE ESTA CRIMINAL O ESTAFADOR PUEDE SER INSENSIBLE PARA ALGUNAS PERSONAS. SE RECOMIENDA DISCRECIÓN.

If you need help, learn what you need to know now at www.ScamVictimsSupport.org

Si necesita ayuda, aprenda lo que necesita saber ahora en www.ScamVictimsSupport.org

A Criminal’s Story

Inside My Mind: How I Helped Steal $565,000 as a Money Mule

I’m Sheri Reeves, a 55-year-old woman from Kennett, Missouri, and I’m sitting here with a mix of regret and defiance as I tell you how I became part of a $565,000 bank fraud scheme, acting as a money mule to help my co-conspirators pull off a massive theft. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but the promise of quick cash and the thrill of being part of something bigger pushed me to keep going, even as I watched the scheme unfold with cold precision.

It all started back in 2020, a time when I was struggling to make ends meet in Dunklin County. I had been working odd jobs, barely scraping by, my small apartment filled with the constant hum of worry about bills piling up. I met a guy online, someone who claimed to be part of a group pulling off big financial deals, and he offered me a way to make easy money. I listened as he explained the plan, my curiosity piqued despite the nagging voice in my head telling me to walk away. He said I’d act as a money courier, a “money mule,” moving funds for them, and in return, I’d get a cut of the profits. I saw dollar signs, my mind racing with the possibilities of paying off my debts, maybe even taking a vacation somewhere warm, so I agreed, my fingers typing out a quick “yes” before I could change my mind.

I opened a new account at a Bank of America branch in Jonesboro, Arkansas on June 9, 2020, my hands steady as I filled out the paperwork, knowing this account would be the key to the scheme. I added another person’s name to the account later, someone my co-conspirators told me about, a victim they had targeted for an account takeover fraud. I didn’t ask too many questions, my focus on the money I’d earn, not on the person whose life we were about to upend. My co-conspirators used stolen account information to access the victim’s Bank of America account, and I watched as they transferred $565,000 into my account in three separate electronic transfers, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement as the numbers appeared on my screen.

I moved the money quickly, following their instructions to the letter, my mind sharp as I executed each step. I withdrew cashier’s checks in Tennessee and Arkansas, driving across state lines with the checks tucked safely in my bag, my eyes scanning the road for any sign of trouble. I sent the funds to others they directed me to, my fingers steady as I handed over the checks, knowing I was passing off stolen money to keep the scheme going. I also used a CoinFlip cryptocurrency ATM in Dunklin County, converting some of the cash into digital currency, my hands inserting bills into the machine as I watched the transaction complete, the digital wallet address they gave me ensuring the money disappeared into the ether. I shared my account information with my co-conspirators, allowing them to pull funds directly, and I withdrew cash myself, stuffing the bills into my purse, my mind buzzing with the adrenaline of each move.

I targeted a single victim, someone whose identity my co-conspirators had stolen, a person I never met but whose life I helped ruin. I didn’t know much about them, just that they had a Bank of America account with enough money to make this worth our while. I pictured them as some wealthy retiree, someone who wouldn’t miss the funds, my mind justifying my actions as I convinced myself they’d recover. I didn’t let myself think too hard about the consequences, my focus on the task at hand, on the money I’d earn, on the life I could build with my cut of the profits.

My motivation came from a place of desperation, a burning need to escape the financial hole I’d been stuck in for years. I grew up in Dunklin County, a place where opportunities were scarce, and I had watched my dreams slip away as I struggled to survive. I wanted more, craved the kind of life I saw others living, with nice cars and vacations, free from the constant stress of unpaid bills. I knew what I was doing was illegal, but I pushed that thought aside, my greed outweighing my guilt as I told myself I deserved this chance. I felt a thrill in being part of something bigger, a scheme that made me feel clever, powerful, even as I knew deep down it was wrong. I imagined the money I’d earn, the way it would change my life, my mind racing with plans to pay off my debts, maybe even move to a bigger city, start fresh where no one knew my past.

I kept going, my actions methodical as I moved the money through various channels, my co-conspirators guiding me every step of the way. I withdrew cash, sent cryptocurrency, and handed over checks, my hands steady despite the growing knot in my stomach. I knew the risks, knew I could get caught, but I convinced myself we were too smart, too careful to get found out. I pictured the victim, faceless and distant, my mind refusing to dwell on their suffering as I focused on my own gain, my own escape from a life I hated.

I didn’t think about the long-term consequences, my mind too caught up in the immediate rewards, the rush of each successful transfer. I felt alive, my days filled with a purpose I hadn’t known in years, even as I knew I was breaking the law. I told myself it was just this once, that I’d stop after this job, but the money kept coming, and I kept moving it, my greed growing with each transaction. I imagined a future where I didn’t have to worry about bills, where I could live the life I always wanted, my mind clinging to that dream even as the scheme began to unravel.

I pleaded guilty in court, my voice steady as I admitted to aiding and abetting bank fraud, conspiracy to commit wire and mail fraud, and wire fraud, my mind flashing back to those months in 2020 when I thought I could outsmart the system. I lost everything, my dreams of a better life replaced by the harsh reality of my actions, my freedom slipping away as I face sentencing. I targeted a victim I never met, someone whose life I helped destroy for my own gain, and now I sit here, my mind a storm of regret and defiance, knowing I let greed lead me down a path I can’t escape. I wanted a better life, but all I found was a $565,000 scam that cost me more than I ever imagined, leaving me to face the consequences of a crime I can’t undo.

Source: https://www.justice.gov/usao-edmo/pr/dunklin-county-woman-admits-aiding-565000-fraud

Copyright © 2025 SCARS Institute

SCARS Institute Notes:

Legal Disclaimer: The above narrative represents an interpretation and extrapolation based on all available information about the case. Achieving 100% factual accuracy remains impossible due to the inclusion of supposition and fictionalization to create a complete story and monologue. We aim to present a coherent account of the criminal’s perspective solely for entertainment purposes. We derive no income from this endeavor, offering it purely in the public interest. The criminal did not participate in this process.

Fictionalized True Crime Disclaimer: This story offers a dramatized account inspired by real events, crafted to explore the criminal’s perspective for entertainment purposes. We base the narrative on publicly available information, supplemented with fictional elements to create a cohesive storyline, and do not claim complete factual accuracy. The characters, dialogue, and specific motivations reflect artistic interpretation and do not represent the actual thoughts or actions of the individuals involved. We intend this work to raise awareness about the dangers of financial fraud, and we derive no profit from its publication, presenting it solely in the public interest. The depicted individuals did not contribute to or endorse this narrative.