A Web of deceit

Two families wanted to adopt and thought they’d found the perfect birth mother, a woman they met online. Instead, the Mantooths from Texas and the Colemans from Tennessee became victims of a heartless con. Dateline's Victoria Corderi exposes one cold-hearted scam in a Dateline Hidden Camera investigation.

Karen and Mark Mantooth spent the last seven years trying to become parents. First, their treatments for infertility were unsuccessful. Then, two adoptions fell through. It seemed like heartbreak after heartbreak.

Last fall, they thought the long wait was almost over when they met a woman looking for a couple just like them: a loving family to adopt her baby girl.

The Mantooths didn't find her through a traditional adoption agency but with the help of the Internet. They had signed up with an adoption match-making service that posted their profile online.  It was essentially an advertisement offering themselves as potential parents.    

Karen and the birth mother bonded quickly, talking on the phone several times a day.

Finally, Karen and Mark seemed to be on their way to parenthood. While they prepared for their baby at home in Texas, a couple 800 miles away in Tennessee hoping to adopt also turned to the Internet.

This would be Lori and Chris Coleman's second adoption. Like the Mantooths, they had endured years of infertility treatments.  Then they turned to a private attorney who specialized in adoption. Kennedy was placed in their arms four years ago, just hours after being born.

Their first adoption experience was a good one. For the second adoption, the Colemans thought they could find a potential birth mother on their own, using the vast adoption resources online. Web sites, message boards, and chat rooms are all part of the fast-growing world of independent adoption.

Lori quickly discovered posting from expectant mothers.

Independent adoptions are usually less expensive than traditional private adoptions because lawyers or agencies aren't paid to find a birth mother, but step in later just to do the legal paperwork.  

The Coleman's found a promising candidate quickly. Lori replied to a posting from a pregnant woman named Christy.  Soon they were talking daily and exchanging heartfelt e-mails, like this one. 

Lori and Christy became fast friends, confidants even.

Twice, Lori drove three hours to Nashville to meet Christy in person. She gave Lori a photo of her daughter, and said she was a single mother, raising a 2-year-old alone.

The Coleman's hired an attorney to draw up the adoption papers. Christy signed documents saying she was nearly 8 months pregnant and Lori and Chris made plans to be at the hospital for the birth. They also agreed to pay some of Christy's living expenses, rent and food.  This is standard procedure in most private adoptions.

4-year-old Kennedy was excited about becoming a big sister, while Lori happily got ready for the new addition to family.

In Texas, Karen and Mark Mantooth also had hired an attorney, and were making plans to be there for their baby's birth.

Both the Colemans and the Mantooths felt the anticipation and excitement of impending parenthood.  The birth mothers had told them they were the only ones and there was no going back.

There was just one problem: Both couples were talking to the same person.  Christy, it appeared, had promised her baby to two different families.

Was she simply undecided? Or was this some kind of cruel game playing with people's lives?

We wondered the same thing. Dateline decided to go looking for Christy with our hidden cameras to find out.

The Mantooths' and Colemans' prospective parent turned out to be the same woman: Christy.

Just how did they figure that out?

It began when just four weeks before Christy was due to give birth she suddenly stopped calling Lori Coleman.

Christy’s cell phone was disconnected.

They didn't hear from her for a a week — no word, no e-mails, nothing.

The Colemans were desperate for an explanation. Lori turned to the Internet again. Through a message board where adoptive families share information, she started talking to Karen and Mark Mantooth.  They told her their story about Christy, and how three months earlier their relationship had ended in almost the exact same way.

Christy had given documents to both couples. There were different due dates and different last names.

In both cases, Christy had called the couples frequently, more and more, as the due dates approached. At first, just to chat, then to ask for money. She'd told both families that she was behind on her rent and short on cash for basic necessities.

The Colemans had given Christy more than $800: $300 in Wal-Mart cards for food, and $510 for rent. The Mantooths say they'd sent her more than $1,200.

Even though it's common practice for adoptive families to pay some basic living expenses for a potential birth mother, most couples understand that it is a gamble. If the woman changes her mind, and the adoption doesn't go through, she's not legally required to return the money but this situation did not appear to be a case of second thoughts.  To the families involved, this had the makings of a scam.

When the Colemans realized Christy might be a con artist preying on vulnerable families, their sadness turned to anger. 

Dateline wanted to find her too. We asked the Colemans to try to get back in touch with Christy so that we could investigate.

Just as suddenly as she'd vanished, Christy reappeared on Lori's computer screen through an instant message.

Why the abrupt disappearance? Christy said she had run off to Florida for her grandfather's funeral and that she'd lost her cell phone.

With that, the women took up right where they'd left off,  chatting on the phone day in and day out. Only this time Lori was acting, pretending not to be suspicious.

Lori and Christy made plans for the following week: a lunch date in Nashville. What she didn't tell her is that Dateline would be there too with hidden cameras, watching her every move.

It’s no surprise that for their meeting, Christy asked Lori to bring cash.  She says she needs $600 for rent and overdue bills.

The Colemans had already given Christy $800 and say they spent thousands more on legal fees to prepare for the adoption. Now that Dateline has decided to investigate, Dateline will provide the money. 

The night before our meeting, Christy asks for even more.  She calls Lori to say that she and her little girl Jasmine are hungry and broke. 

We buy them a $100 gift card at Wal-Mart for food. Lori calls Christy back and urges her to use it.

The next day, we finally get a look at Christy, up close and in person.   She arrives at a Nashville hotel for what she thinks is a casual lunch date.  She has no idea that Dateline is watching or that Lori is part of our hidden camera operation.

She comes upstairs where I am posing as Lori's friend, with five cameras secretly rolling.

As we sit down to lunch, I get right to the point, although Christy thinks I'm kidding. 

Our hidden cameras record every word as we settle in like old friends. As we snack on cookies, Christy thanks Lori for the grocery money we gave her the night before.

Christy does look pregnant, but not quite like a woman in her ninth month as she claims to be.

She repeatedly plays up how soon she thinks the baby will be born.

Perhaps to convince us she's not lying, she invites Lori to a doctor's appointment the next day. She says she wants to have labor induced so that Lori can be there for the birth.

Over the next 2 hours, Christy has a ready answer for every question: details we say we need for the adoption paperwork.

Her address, her mid-wife's name, her history.

She even volunteers information about her job: a profession that highlights her generosity and goodwill.

She tells us the story of how she got pregnant: a drunken one-night-stand.

Perhaps it is a way to show there is no father involved, nothing to get in the way of the adoption. 

She even answers sensitive questions without hesitation, telling us just what she thinks we want to hear.

Throughout our hidden camera meeting, Christy makes a point of talking about her daughter Jasmine.

She knows that Lori bonded with her over their shared experience of raising a little girl.

Christy takes pains to show how careful she was in selecting Lori out of all of the women on the Internet who wanted to adopt her baby.

As if to prove that she of high moral character, Christy tells us the story of a woman she met online who had asked her to lie on the adoption paperwork.

Christy doesn't know that Lori's husband, Chris, is watching it all in the next room.  He's sure Christy is lying and gets fed up her act. 

Christy, on the other hand, seems willing to stay all afternoon.  She hasn't said a word about money, yet she's too busy laying it on thick, getting Lori excited about the birth.

And once again she says something to convince Lori she's serious about handing over the baby.

Christy is saying all the right things and her performance is so convincing that despite everything Lori knows, she finds herself being drawn back in. 

After all, Lori is still a woman deeply longing for a baby.  And even though she is here as part of a Dateline investigation, she can't help but feel a spark of hope that  maybe, just maybe, some of what Christy says is true...

Soon enough, Christy turns the conversation to the real reason we think she is here. She drops a not-so-subtle hint that she needs the cash...

Lori hands over more $600. Then Christy gets up to go.

Outside, we watch the two women say goodbye, and wonder if they will ever see each other again, or if Christy is about to take the money and run.

Minutes later, to our surprise, Christy calls Lori's cell phone. Was Lori right to hope? Could Christy be for real this time? We were about to find out

Dateline checked up on Christy, and on the information she'd so willingly supplied: The address was bogus.  Her midwife's office doesn't exist. Nor does the domestic violence shelter where she claimed to work.

One thing's for sure— she's not who she says she is. Dateline searched public records in Tennessee and found a mug shot of Christy Tidwell from a 1998 drug arrest. She looks nothing like the Christy we knew, but guess what?  It turns out that the real Christy Tidwell is a friend. Our hidden cameras saw them together.

Remember the Wal-Mart card we'd bought in response to Christy's desperate plea for food?  We watched the two women spend that money together. Not on groceries, but on baby supplies— an indication that she really is pregnant and probably planning on keeping the baby.

So who is this woman?

In the hours after that meeting, she called repeatedly, telling Lori where she was going and with whom.  All of it lies. We know because our hidden cameras were still watching.

She told Lori she was picking up Jasmine, her two year-old daughter, while we recorded her doing something else.

She first stopped at the offices of a cell phone company, then went to a residence hotel and picked up her friend.

She called again to say she was having a quick dinner with her daughter, while we see the two women go to an upscale Nashville mall and dine at this expensive restaurant, with no toddler in sight.  She had no idea that Lori was nearby in the mall parking lot when, once again, she did something that took us by surprise.

She told Lori on the phone she was in labor and had 3 contractions, giving specific instructions on what she and Chris should do.

So what did this woman who was supposedly in labor do next? She got behind the wheel ofa car and went on a shopping spree. We watched her drive all over suburban Nashville.  She went grocery shopping, stopped at a dollar store, a K-mart, and a Wal-Mart looking like she didn't have a care in the world.

Meanwhile, Lori was back at the hotel waiting by the phone.   Two hours passed.

Whatever hopes Lori had been harboring about adopting that baby girl were gone. For two months, through all the phone calls, e-mails and loving preparations, Lori had wanted to believe in Christy. Now cold reality set in. The rush of emotion surprised even her.

She had hurt Lori just as she had hurt the couple from Texas, Karen and Mark Mantooth, months before.

Dateline found her trail of deception is even longer than that. 

The woman we knew as Christy is going have quite a bit of explaining to do.

When it comes to this pregnant woman and the promises she's made and the hearts she's broken, there is always one question.

They are from different states, and different backgrounds, but all of these people believe they were conned in the same cruel way by the person we knew as Christy.

A New York woman, Jackie, read one of Christy's e-mails:

And three years ago, thinking a baby was on the way, a couple from North Carolina sent her more than $2,000 before she disappeared.

The North Carolina couple knew her as "Jamie."

Dateline found other adoptive families who'd met her online as "Amy Ost Cumbee." They all admit they were easily taken in by her.

We showed the group some of our hidden camera videotape: Christy buying infant supplies with the money meant for food (a sure sign she was keeping the baby), and the easy lies and intimate conversation.

Now, we wanted to look for Christy again.  This time we wanted to get an explanation and to let her know that Dateline was on to her.

We found her in a parking lot the morning after she'd claimed to be in labor.

For a woman who was supposedly about to give birth, she seemed awfully relaxed. 

She had told us her name was Christy Tidwell Miller. 

We showed her the real Christy Tidwell. 

She drove off, but within minutes she called Lori Coleman from a new cell phone number. Later that morning, she surprised us yet again by agreeing to sit down and answer our questions— in the very same room where she'd told a string of lies the day before. 

She admitted she lied to the Colemans and that she had scammed others as well.

She described how she uses the Internet to find her targets.

She told us that she learned the adoption scam from her ex-husband.

“Christy,” who we now know is really named Amy Ost Cumbee, says her real due date was months, not days away and that she was buying infant clothing because her girlfriend wants to keep the baby.

As for Jasmine, the 2-year-old she talked about so often and so convincingly? She'd made her up as part of the con.

Despite her lies, she still tried to insist she planned on allowing the Colemans to adopt her baby.

The Colemans were nearby, listening. We invited them in.

“Christy”left our interview a worried woman, afraid her next stop might be jail.

When Amy knew she was caught her first statement to me was, “I guess you hate me.” And then her second question was, “Am I goin’ to jail?”

Victoria Corderi asked the heartbroken prospective adoptive parents what should happen to Amy. 

And there’s at least one more person who would like to see her behind bars: Eric Cumbee. Dateline tracked down Eric Cumbee, the ex-husband Amy claimed had introduced her to adoption scams.

In fact, her former husband says he wasn’t her accomplice, he was her victim. They were married six years ago and after just 2 months, he says she abruptly disappeared.

Cumbee believes his entire marriage was an elaborate con.

So it appears there are numerous people who want this woman to  face justice.  But will she?

Three of the couples reported her to the police.  Karen and Mark Mantooth filed reports in Texas and Tennessee, while the Colemans went to the FBI as well to local law enforcement. They all say no one seemed willing or able to prosecute.

Proving adoption fraud can be difficult—remember a potential birth mother is allowed by law to change her mind and keep whatever money she’s received for expenses.

More victims come forward after the report aired on Dateline
No prosecution: That was where things stood when Dateline first broadcast this story in July.  By then, the woman who’d admitted her real name was Amy— not Christy— had seemingly disappeared. She’d checked out of her hotel and had disconnected her cell phone.

But that wasn’t the end of the story. When our report aired some viewers recognized her and contacted Dateline with new information. More people came forward to say they too were scammed by the woman at the center of our story.Mike and Chantelle Early say last April “Amy Cumbee” promised them a baby and that they sent her nearly $1,000 dollars.

The Earlys say they drove all the way from Iowa to Nashville because Amy told them she was about to give birth. Then, they say, she cut them off.

These two men from Amy’s past say they were victims of a different sort—that Amy stole their hearts and then their money.  

Jimmy Hodge says he and Amy were married in 1998, and just like the ex-husband we meet earlier, he says Amy fleeced him then fled.

Nathan Offut says he’s an ex-boyfriend who also was taken for a financial ride.

Caught pulling another con
So where was Amy when our report aired? Apparently pulling another con. This time, she’d convinced a domestic violence shelter to put her up in an apartment by claiming that she and her girlfriend were sisters who’d been abused by their father and needed a place to hide.  Imagine the shelter director’s shock when she watched our story and learned the truth.

She says she immediately called the Nashville police.

Police arrested Amy on an outstanding warrant for a probation violation. She'd pleaded guilty to running out on a hotel bill using yet another fake name, Marissa Foltz.  

Her seeming accomplice talks to Dateline
But what about the real Christy—Amy’s girlfriend?  Our hidden cameras had seen the two women go on a shopping spree together with money that was meant for rent and food.

Well, she was not arrested.  And in fact, the real Christy—who appeared to be in on the scheme—agreed to an interview  with Dateline.  She claims she’s another one of Amy’s victims.

While she admits she lied to the domestic violence shelter about being abused, says she knew nothing about Amy’s dealing with the Colemans.

Christy says she has bipolar disorder, and that Amy convinced her to stop taking her medication and to hand over her disability checks. What’s more, she says she believed that baby would be hers too.

She says it wasn’t until she saw our story that she realized what her friend had done, using her name.

In a final twist, Christy has joined the other couples we met in wanting to see this woman punished.  She is cooperating with the Nashville DA’s office to put together a case of identity theft.

Amy waived her right to appear at a preliminary hearing in July. Lori Coleman was there to testify. 

Then earlier this year, Amy pleaded guilty to identity theft. She got a suspended sentence of 2 years, and after spending nearly 10 months in jail she’ll be released to a halfway house in May.

What happened to the baby?
But one big question remains: What happened to the baby? Or perhaps, was there ever a baby?  The math just doesn’t add up. When we met amy she said she was 7 months pregnant. Then six months later she was in the domestic violence shelter, still claiming to be pregnant.

Her room there was full of this baby gear that the shelter had helped her collect from local charities.

The men who knew her say Amy repeatedly said she was pregnant, then claimed to miscarry, and soon would announce she was pregnant again.

Jimmy Hodge says he even caught her strapping on padding before a baby shower in her honor.

The Colemans now believe that baby they’d wanted so badly never really existed.

Still, happy endings
Fortunately, many of the couples who say they were burned by Amy have been able to fulfill their long delayed dreams of parenthood.

The Mantooths brought home a son they names Joshua just a month after they were stung. 

And after all the anguish they’ve been through, the Colemans too have seen their dream come true. In September, they adopted Kingston, a baby boy they say makes their family complete.