Editor’s note: The article discusses sexual assault. “Guarded by Predators” is a new investigative series exposing rape and abuse by Idaho’s prison guards and the system that shields them. Find the entire series at investigatewest.org/guarded-by-predators.
At a medium-security prison in the desert outside Boise, two Idaho State Police detectives begin to interview corrections Sgt. Brian Klingensmith. All three officers dedicated their lives to keeping criminals in line, but now Klingensmith is accused of raping one.
At 2:02 p.m. on Oct. 29, 2024, one of the detectives begins recording their conversation.
“So, like we said, the allegation came up from your supposed involvement back in 2011 when you worked at the Boise Work Center,” Detective Brandon Eller begins, referring to a women’s prison where inmates are allowed to work off-site during the day. Charee Nelson, an inmate who was under Klingensmith’s supervision, filed a report against him in summer 2024 alleging decade-old abuse.
Eller briefly sums up Nelson’s account. “She’s basically claiming that there were a total of five occasions that you guys, um, had sex, so to speak.”
“No,” Klingensmith softly says.
The detectives move on less than a minute into the interview without directly asking Klingensmith if he had sex with Nelson. Nor do they ask if he offered to waive a disciplinary write-up that could have jeopardized her upcoming release date in exchange for oral sex. Or whether he made up assignments to get her alone and request sexual favors. Or if he knew that Nelson was four weeks pregnant when she was released from the women’s prison.
But the detectives do tell Klingensmith that they are targeting inmates who file complaints of sexual abuse by guards for false reporting.
“I feel like it’s a personal attack on me and my family,” Klingensmith tells the detectives. “And what happens to somebody who just makes shit up? Nothing?”
“It’s the culture that you work in,” Detective Chris Pohanka says. “We’re trying to get some things changed on false allegations. I think we’ve had a couple prosecuted for that, or we have a couple maybe coming up for prosecution on those. Problem is, it’s a misdemeanor. That’s the problem.”
When prisoners are victimized by guards, they can’t call 911 or report it to police. Dispatchers won’t accept calls from prison. Instead, inmates can tell another Idaho Department of Correction employee — usually co-workers or supervisors of the accused. It’s then up to the guard’s employer to report it to law enforcement. Idaho prison policy and federal law require all potentially criminal allegations of sexual assault or harassment to be reported to and investigated by police. But according to the department’s own annual reports and federal audits of Idaho prisons, that rarely happens.
When it does, the responsibility falls to the Idaho State Police, which has been investigating these cases statewide since 2023. Previously, local law enforcement, most often the Ada County Sheriff’s Office, investigated crimes reported at prisons in their jurisdiction. InvestigateWest has found that since state police took over, detectives have dismissed evidence, ignored leads and treated survivors as suspects, allowing abusers to escape justice and leaving victims to face the consequences.
Idaho State Police spokesman Aaron Snell declined interview requests and refused to answer specific questions from InvestigateWest about Nelson’s case and others involving allegations against prison employees. In an email, Snell said all investigations are taken seriously.
“Our role is to investigate criminal complaints, and we handle them the same way as any other case: by following the evidence, applying Idaho law, and focusing on what can be presented in court,” Snell wrote. “Allegations that arise in correctional settings can be particularly complex and challenging to corroborate, making these cases uniquely difficult.”
Nelson was one of seven women who, in the summer of 2024, accused prison workers of sexually harassing and assaulting them. The alleged abuse spanned decades, took place at women’s facilities across Idaho, and was perpetrated by different prison guards, probation officers, and commissary contractors.
But one thread connects all of the women’s claims—none were thoroughly investigated by state police, an InvestigateWest review of the case files and detectives’ interviews revealed.
- Allegations made by four of the women were never criminally investigated.
- The other three women’s claims were merged into one case even though they accused different men on different dates who worked at different prisons.
- One woman’s case was closed as “determined not to have occurred” after a detective misrepresented the facts in her case file, claiming that she told him she never had any sexual contact with prison guards — despite an audio recording of his interview proving otherwise.
- Only one of the seven accused men was contacted by police.
- None of the men was charged in these cases.
“They weren’t there for us,” Nelson said, referring to the police.
‘Put everything to rest’
The Department of Correction said in an emailed statement that it had received some of the complaints that the seven women filed in summer 2024, but would not reveal which ones were investigated or the outcomes of those investigations.
Though federal standards require prisons to send reports of all possible crimes to law enforcement, the department instead only notifies police of accusations against staff if evidence has been uncovered by department investigators, according to Department Director Bree Derrick. Those investigators lack the authority to conduct criminal investigations.
But an Ada County judge pressed for police to investigate accusations by Nelson and two other women following their pleas for help. Judge Andrew Ellis, who ruled on protection orders filed by the three women, promised at an Aug. 5, 2024, hearing to contact county Prosecutor Jan Bennetts’ office and “ask that she look into it and not just sweep it under the rug.”
“Typically, when the prosecutor gets a phone call or an email or has a meeting with a judge, they pay attention,” Ellis said. “I will do that much to make sure that there’s some attention being paid to your case.”
The next day, Idaho State Police opened an investigation into the complaints.
Detectives combined the three women’s complaints into a single case, even though they were accusing different guards who worked at different prisons in different years—a sign of “sloppy” detective work, said Fara Gold, a longtime state and federal prosecutor who wrote the U.S. Department of Justice 2024 framework for prosecuting sexual assault against women.
“It just makes no sense,” Gold said. “If three different women accused their husbands of domestic abuse, you wouldn’t combine those investigations. If they’re all accusing different perpetrators, they need to be treated as separate cases, because they do file separately in court.”
Snell, the state police spokesman, declined to respond directly to questions about the investigation into these women’s allegations, including why they were lumped together.
One week after they were assigned the cases, detectives stopped seeking evidence of abuse for one of the women who refused an interview with them. Idaho State Police detectives were unavailable to comment for this article, Snell told InvestigateWest. In the emailed statement, he wrote that if a victim “chooses not to cooperate, we cannot proceed.”
The woman who didn’t want to be interviewed by state police, Karyn Simpson, said she had already told a detention officer who took her report about how a prison-work supervisor had groped her on a job site and how a parole officer—who was later charged with extortion in a separate case—offered to help her out in exchange for a video of Simpson and her wife having sex. She didn’t think she could relive that again, she told InvestigateWest.
“You don’t want to reinterview the victim unnecessarily,” Gold said. “There are many reasons why you don’t reinterview the victim over and over again, not the least of which is that it’s retraumatizing. Just making her rehash it for no other purpose than you weren’t there to listen the first time, there’s nothing valuable in that.”
On the same day Simpson said no to detectives, Andrea Weiskircher made a different decision. She spent more than an hour with the investigators. According to audio of that interview and case files obtained by InvestigateWest, she provided locations, a timeline, witness names and other details about her abuse and the abuse of others. None of the men Weiskircher accused were ever contacted, let alone questioned, by the detectives, records show. Neither were the witnesses she named. Screenshots of a phone log showing calls she received from one of the accused men and sexual Facebook messages from others were emailed to one detective, but were not included or even referenced in the case files. Weiskircher also told detectives about messages sent to her through the prison’s communication system. The case files, which Snell called the “official record of the work performed,” make no mention of efforts to retrieve those messages.
During the interview with Weiskircher, Detective Pohanka asked her if she had any “inappropriate sexual contact” with correction officers between 2018 and 2021. Weiskircher said “yes” twice, and yet when detectives closed their investigation, they falsely noted that she said “no” when asked if she had any sexual contact with prison employees. An audio recording of the interview confirms Weiskircher’s account—directly contradicting the detective’s written report.
A subsequent notice declaring that the state police had closed her investigation identified Weiskircher’s accusations as “determined not to have occurred.”
One week before detectives Eller and Pohanka assured Sgt. Klingensmith that they were going after women for false reporting, they received copies of Nelson’s medical records from an ER visit 12 days after she was released from prison. Nelson was pregnant, but the baby had no heartbeat, according to the records.
“The approximate age of the fetus would have put her becoming pregnant when she lived at the Boise Work Center,” Pohanka’s notes state.
Nelson told InvestigateWest she knew she couldn’t prove paternity more than a decade after her miscarriage, but she was hopeful that the test results would convince detectives to take her allegations seriously.
Detectives never mentioned Nelson’s pregnancy when they interviewed Klingensmith on Oct. 29, 2024.
Instead, they questioned Klingensmith about how often prisoners were unsupervised on the way to and from their jobs.
“Nelson was able to go to outside employment and return to the facility at night,” detectives noted. “She was not constantly watched during her time on and off the campus.”
When Nelson was at the prison, Klingensmith told detectives that he was sometimes the only guard on duty, prompting them to ask about “manipulative” prisoners. It’s a fear instilled upon corrections officers in training—that they could become victims of inmates who use their sexuality to blackmail guards for contraband or other favors, former employees say.
“What are some of the behaviors you got to experience with some of those inmates, with some of the women, being there by yourself?” Pohanka asked. “I mean, were they flirty, anything like that?”
“No,” Klingensmith said.
“Manipulative?” Pohanka pressed.
“Not to me,” Klingensmith said.
Nelson wasn’t the first inmate to accuse Klingensmith of sexually abusing people under his charge, he told detectives. During the interview, Klingensmith provided the last name of another inmate who filed a complaint against him. Detectives make no mention of the second allegation in their reports.
Investigative records show that detectives did request employment history from the Department of Correction for the four men accused by Nelson.
- Officer Bill Lloyd, who Nelson said threatened to move her to a more restrictive unit if she did not have sex with him, was later charged and pleaded guilty to sexual contact with another inmate in 2009, according to court records. In a message on Facebook to InvestigateWest, Lloyd denied Nelson’s allegation and blocked a reporter when asked about his criminal charge.
- Officer James Burkman, Nelson’s work supervisor whom she accused of coercing her into oral sex and intercourse in 2008, was removed from his position later that year for similar allegations from other inmates, but the Department of Correction no longer had those records, detectives noted. He did not respond to emails or a letter from InvestigateWest.
- Another sergeant, who Nelson said forced her to give him oral sex, had no other complaints or allegations noted against him. He retired from the department in 2016.
In Idaho, rape charges are exempt from the five-year statute of limitations for felonies, though the exemption does not apply to the charge of sexual contact with a prisoner. Klingensmith, 53, retired in December 2024, less than six months after Nelson filed her complaint. Klingensmith did not respond to calls and messages from InvestigateWest. When reached at their home, Klingensmith’s wife declined to speak to a reporter on her husband’s behalf. He is the only man accused by Nelson who was contacted by detectives, according to their notes.
“I don’t think anybody’s really checked into this stuff, because it’s kind of bounced around, and I just feel the duty to actually look into it to see if there are claims,” Detective Eller told Klingensmith. “And if not, put everything to rest.”
One week later, on Nov. 5, 2024, the state police detectives did just that.
“Based on the investigation of the alleged claims, I have found no evidence to corroborate the allegations outside of the victims’ own statements,” Pohanka wrote, referring to Nelson and the other two women her case was tied to. “No other witnesses were identified beyond the three victims.”
‘Makes me sick’
The Prison Rape Elimination Act—the 2003 federal law that defines sexual misconduct in corrections facilities and how complaints should be handled—requires criminal investigations to “be completed any time criminal activity has been suspected of taking place regarding sexual abuse or harassment allegations.” The Idaho Department of Correction can discipline, demote or fire employees for sexual abuse, but it lacks the authority to arrest or charge perpetrators.
Criminal investigations used to fall to local police depending on the facility’s location. Most Idaho prisons are located near Boise. Ada County sheriff’s deputies handled those cases. The only women’s prison outside of Ada County is four hours east in Pocatello, where Idaho State Police had begun investigating allegations behind bars before taking over Ada County prison cases in July 2023.
Since then, state police have investigated three sexual abuse cases against staff at Idaho women’s prisons, including Nelson’s case that was combined with two other victims, according to records obtained by InvestigateWest. In another case, an Ada County prosecutor declined to charge a guard accused of sexually assaulting four women at South Idaho Correctional Institution. The prosecutor’s office refused to say why. The third case resulted in charges against a Pocatello guard.
But the women who report these crimes say they have learned not to expect justice.
Correctional Officer Justin Tillema was fired early this year after multiple complaints accused him of coercing and sexually assaulting an inmate he supervised, according to Department of Correction investigative records obtained by InvestigateWest. His officer certification was revoked for “criminal conduct whether charged or not” and “inappropriate sexual conduct while on duty,” as well as failing to cooperate with or lying to investigators, data from the agency that certifies prison guards reveals. But according to law enforcement records, he was never investigated by state police. InvestigateWest sent messages to Tillema on social media and at his last known address. Tillema could not be reached for comment.
Since incarcerated victims are unable to report abuse directly to police, federal standards outline the Department of Correction’s obligation to notify law enforcement each time a crime is reported. But federal auditors, who are charged with ensuring prisons are following protocols, found that’s not happening in Idaho.
Auditors—who are trained by the U.S. Department of Justice, paid by Idaho’s prison system and chosen by the facility they’re inspecting—recorded the discrepancies but passed the prisons as “in compliance” anyway.
Last year, an auditor identified one sexual abuse complaint against a worker at South Boise Women’s Correctional Center. That allegation was not criminally investigated, according to the audit report, which passed the women’s prison with no violations.
One sexual harassment and three sexual abuse complaints were identified in 2023 during the most recent audit of South Idaho Correctional Institution, which houses both men and women. One of the sexual abuse allegations was substantiated by the Department of Correction. None were criminally investigated, but the auditor still wrote that the prison was in compliance because the state employs a full-time Prison Rape Elimination Act coordinator, has a written zero-tolerance policy and most inmates interviewed by the auditor “said they felt safe.” That same year, the same auditor was invited to Pocatello Women’s Correctional Center. There, he found four sexual abuse complaints against staff but was unable to conclude how many received criminal investigations, noting conflicting numbers in his report before passing the facility.
According to the U.S. Department of Justice guide to prosecuting government workers accused of violence against women, “an investigation should not be automatically closed or a case declined just because there is no apparent physical evidence or eyewitness testimony.”
A 2022 investigation by state police into kitchen officer Derek Stettler unearthed allegations of sexual abuse by at least three other guards at Pocatello Women’s Correctional Center. State police investigated none of these allegations, according to records provided by the agency.
When detectives do uncover enough evidence, they send cases to prosecutors who decide whether to charge the suspect with a crime.
When state police investigators Spencer Knudsen and Mark Hulet questioned a Pocatello guard who was accused of sexually assaulting an inmate in 2022, one of the detectives explained it this way: “I’m the one that can go and talk to prosecutors from here and say, ‘This guy’s an upstanding guy. He just made a mistake.’ You understand that, right?” In an audio recording of the conversation, it is unclear which detective made the statement, and Snell, the police spokesperson, declined to identify him.
The guard being questioned, Alveris Tomassini, had passed sexual notes back and forth for weeks with an inmate before he allegedly touched her genitals, according to the case files. Detectives reviewed video footage from the prison that shows Tomassini placing a roll of toilet paper through a slot in the victim’s door around 4 a.m. and then pushing his arm deeper into the cell where it stayed for 37 seconds, according to detectives’ notes. As he exited the hall, Tomassini turned back and gave a thumbs-up.
When they released the case files to InvestigateWest in response to a public records request, the Idaho State Police omitted the video evidence and a photo of Tomassini giving the victim a thumbs-up. When questioned about the missing records, which Idaho law makes available to the public, one of the clerks in charge of gathering those files told a reporter that she was disturbed by the possibility that InvestigateWest might publish some of the details of the crime.
“Some of this is so, so personal,” Administrative Assistant Lynn Reese said. “The thought that it might go out in the world makes me sick.”
When pressed by the InvestigateWest reporter, Reese and her supervisor later said technology problems were to blame for the omitted records.
Tomassini, who was still in training when the incident occurred, told detectives that he was fired for the accusation, but that he didn’t do it. He told them the inmate would undress in front of him and flirt with him but that he reported that to his training supervisor. Yet he also acknowledged that sexual contact between staff and inmates is common in the prison.
“According to everybody in the prison, it’s not the first time,” Tomassini said to detectives. “I guess it hasn’t been the last time. It’s happened a ton of times before, with other people, other guards.”
Detectives did not ask for names of any of the guards who Tomassini said were committing similar crimes.
Tomassini was later arrested and charged with sexual contact with an inmate, a felony under Idaho’s rape statute that says inmates cannot consent to sexual acts with guards who control nearly every aspect of their lives. He pleaded guilty to aggravated battery and was sentenced to probation.
Tomassini is the only women’s prison guard who has been charged with sexual contact with an inmate since Idaho State Police took over these cases in 2023, according to court records. None of the men named in the complaints filed in summer 2024 by Nelson and others were charged.
On a phone call from jail waiting for a prosecutor to decide her fate, Nelson learned from an InvestigateWest reporter that detectives had closed her case and the men she had accused faced no consequences.
“I’m just shocked and outraged,” she said. “They don’t care. They don’t care. They just don’t care. It’s ‘protect their own.’ They’re allowed to abuse us and get away with it, and that’s what the police believe is OK, and that’s just how it is, because we don’t matter.”
InvestigateWest (investigatewest.org) is an independent news nonprofit dedicated to investigative journalism in the Pacific Northwest. This reporting was supported by the Fund for Investigative Journalism and the Pulitzer Center.