Jaycee Dugard hid her identity, lied, refused to answer questions and asked for a lawyer as a parole agent probed her relationship with Phillip Garrido during the Aug. 26 meeting in Concord that prompted the arrests of Garrido and his wife.
Ultimately it was Garrido, questioned separately, who admitted he had raped and kidnapped Dugard and that he was the girls' father. Only later did the woman who went by "Alyssa" reveal herself, according to a report this week by the state Inspector General's Office.
The report, a lashing review of mistakes and missed chances by state parole agents over the past 11 years, sheds new light on how Garrido's parole agent and Concord police discovered an 18-year mystery, tipped
The UC officials, including a campus police officer, grew wary when Garrido showed up Aug. 25 with two girls, seeking an event permit and spewing religious ramblings. The officer ran a background check, found Garrido was a registered sex offender and tracked down his parole agent.
Later that day, two parole agents drove to Garrido's home near Antioch, handcuffed him and searched the house, the report says. They found only Garrido's wife, Nancy, and his elderly mother. On a drive to the parole office, Garrido said the two girls "were the daughters of a relative and that he had permission from their parents to take them to the university."
A month earlier, parole officials had attached a new
His parole agent was on the phone with the UC officer when the Garridos showed up the next day with Dugard and the two girls in tow. The UC officer said the girls called him "daddy." The parole agent believed Garrido had no young children. He separated Garrido from the women and girls.
Alyssa said she was their mother.
"The parole agent believed that Alyssa looked too young to be the mother and asked her age. Alyssa said that she was 29 years old, laughingly explaining that she often gets that comment and that people believe she is the girls' sister," the report says.
She and Nancy Garrido became "agitated" under questioning. Alyssa said she knew Garrido had taken the girls to the Berkeley campus and also knew he was a paroled sex offender who had kidnapped and raped a woman.
"She added that Garrido was a changed man and a great person who was good to her kids," the report says. "Alyssa subsequently stated that she didn't want to provide any additional information and that she might need a lawyer."
No personal data
Separately, Garrido told a parole agent that the girls were his nieces, all of them daughters of his brother in Oakley. "Garrido stated that the parents were divorced, the girls were living with them and other people, and he did not know his brother's address or phone number."
The parole agent insisted on identification from Alyssa. She told him she "had learned a long time ago not to carry or give any personal information to anyone." She also said she needed a lawyer.
The parole agent called in Concord police.
"As they waited for the officer to arrive, Alyssa said she was sorry that she had lied. She explained that she was from Minnesota and had been hiding for five years from an abusive husband," the report says. "She was terrified of being found, she said, and that was the reason she could not give the parole agent any information."
Garrido finally admitted to a Concord officer that he had kidnapped and raped Alyssa, the report says. Dugard revealed her identity and "confirmed that she had been kidnapped and raped by Garrido."
Concord police Lt. Jim Lardieri declined to comment on the report. McGregor Scott, a former U.S. attorney who represents Dugard, did not return a call Thursday. Dugard's stepfather, Carl Probyn, told People magazine that the two girls, now 11 and 15, thought Dugard was their sister.
There is no evidence to suggest Dugard ever tried to escape the Walnut Avenue house where she and her two girls lived in a hidden backyard lair of tents, sheds and outbuildings, authorities say.
Her attempts to hide her true identity come as no surprise, said Katherine van Wormer, a social work professor at the University of Northern Iowa who has written about Dugard and other kidnap victims.
"After so many years of psyching themselves up, it's sort of like a denial. It's a survival skill. It becomes second nature," she said. "You shut off the part of your mind that would cause you to think in a disloyal way. And you go along.
"I call it 'traumatic bonding.' They really love these people," van Wormer added. "Maybe there is some element of protectiveness there, and a lack of judgment. It's just not rational, but she kept on doing it."