Ever had that creepy feeling someone was watching you online? Multiply that by about a thousand, add murder, and you’ve got the Cari Farver case – a true crime nightmare that makes your garden-variety catfishing look like child’s play.
When Cari Farver disappeared on November 13, 2012, nobody expected her to keep texting, emailing, and posting on Facebook for the next four years. Plot twist: she wasn’t. (Cue the true crime podcast intro music.)
The Digital Afterlife Nobody Asked For
Here’s the setup that reads like a rejected Lifetime movie pitch: Dave Kroupa meets Cari Farver, they date casually. Dave also dates Shanna Golyar. Cari vanishes after staying at Dave’s apartment, but her digital presence explodes into a tsunami of harassment.
For YEARS, “Cari” sent thousands of messages to Dave, his ex-girlfriend, friends, family, and employers. We’re talking over 15,000 emails and potentially 50,000 texts over four years. (I count myself productive if I answer five texts in a day, but apparently some people have different priorities.)
The messages were bizarre, threatening, and relentless – classic stalker behavior that would make Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction say “whoa, dial it back.”
The Digital Breadcrumb Trail
What makes this case fascinating (in that can’t-look-away-from-a-car-crash kind of way) is how Golyar’s digital footprints eventually became her undoing.
Investigators found that Golyar had created an elaborate web of fake accounts – not just pretending to be Cari, but also creating fake personas who claimed Cari was stalking THEM. It was like watching someone play both sides of a chess game while simultaneously setting the board on fire.
The smoking gun? A photo of Cari’s Ford Explorer found on Golyar’s phone, taken after Cari had disappeared. Oh, and pictures of a human foot with a tattoo matching Farver’s. (I know what you’re thinking, and yes, that’s exactly what it implies. I’ll wait while you check your door locks.)
The Digital Forensics That Cracked It
The investigation relied almost entirely on digital evidence – a true crime first that’s become increasingly common. Investigators used IP address tracking and digital forensics to prove that the “Cari” messages were coming from devices connected to Golyar.
Ryan always rolls his eyes when I talk about digital forensics (as if my CSI marathons haven’t made me practically certified), but this case proves my point: your digital footprint is basically a crime scene waiting to be processed.
The investigators found that Golyar had sent emails to herself, pretending they were from Cari, and even sent an email confessing to Farver’s murder while trying to frame another woman. (As subtle as a bloody fingerprint on a confession note.)
The Psychological Puzzle
What kind of person maintains a four-year digital impersonation of someone they murdered?
Golyar didn’t just send a few texts. She crafted an entire alternate reality where Cari was alive but had become unhinged. She created elaborate stories about Cari moving to Kansas, starting a new job, and having various dramatic life events – all while presumably knowing exactly what had actually happened to her.
The level of commitment is both impressive and terrifying. If Golyar had channeled this energy into literally any other hobby, she could have mastered quantum physics or won Olympic gold. Instead, she chose… murder and digital identity theft. (Career counselors everywhere are shaking their heads.)
The Verdict Without a Body
In a remarkable turn of events, prosecutors secured a first-degree murder conviction without ever finding Cari’s body. The digital evidence was so overwhelming that physical remains weren’t necessary to prove Golyar’s guilt.
Golyar was sentenced to life in prison in 2017, still maintaining her innocence despite essentially confessing in emails she thought would frame someone else. (The irony is thicker than blood.)
The Digital-Age Warning
If there’s one thing this case teaches us (besides “don’t date someone who seems weirdly interested in your other romantic partners”), it’s that our digital lives leave traces that can speak long after we’re gone – or in Cari’s case, speak words we never actually said.
In an age where we’re all leaving digital breadcrumbs everywhere, the Cari Farver case stands as a chilling reminder that technology can be weaponized in ways we never imagined. Your digital ghost could potentially outlive you – hopefully not because someone’s pretending to be you after murdering you, but still.
Would I have survived this crime? Absolutely not. My friends would know something was wrong the minute “I” sent a text without at least three unnecessary emojis and a Golden Girls reference.
Sleep tight, fellow crime junkies. And maybe change your passwords tomorrow.