In the pre-dawn hours of March 23, 2015, Aaron Quinn and his girlfriend, Denise Huskins, were asleep in their Vallejo, California, home when a man woke them, saying, “This is a robbery. We are not here to hurt you, stay calm.” They never saw his face; he wore a wetsuit and spoke for himself and others. Denise and Aaron later called him “The Voice.”
The intruder forced Aaron to tie himself with zip ties and then ordered Denise to do the same. They were both blindfolded with blacked-out swim goggles and given a sedative. Aaron was made to go to the bank to get ransom money while a camera monitored him at home. Denise was placed in the trunk of Aaron’s car and driven away. The Voice told Aaron the group would kill Denise if he went to the police.
Aaron eventually freed his hands and, fearing for Denise’s life, called 911. When Vallejo police responded, investigators grew skeptical. Lead detective Mathew Mustard told Aaron he did not believe a kidnapping had occurred and suggested Denise was dead and Aaron was responsible. Media coverage quickly labeled the case a possible hoax; headlines compared it to “Gone Girl.” Denise, when found by Huntington Beach police hours later, gave the same account but felt the Vallejo officers doubted her. Vallejo delayed ordering a sexual-assault exam until Denise spoke with investigators; she underwent a six-hour interview before the exam was scheduled.
Aaron and Denise cooperated fully—turning over phones, clothes and permissions to search—yet feared they would be charged with lying. They also feared the real perpetrators were still free.
In June 2015, nearly three months later, a home invasion in Dublin, California, produced a lead: the intruder left a cell phone behind. That device traced back to a cabin in South Lake Tahoe, where police found 38-year-old Matthew Muller, a Harvard-educated lawyer and former Marine. At his cabin, investigators recovered Aaron’s laptop. A nearby stolen car held the blacked-out goggles with a single blonde hair attached; the hair was later confirmed to be Denise’s. GPS data from the car matched the location where Denise had been dropped off. The physical evidence corroborated Aaron and Denise’s account.
Muller was charged with the Dublin attack as well as Denise’s kidnapping and rape. He pleaded and received a 40-year sentence for those convictions. Denise and Aaron later sued the City of Vallejo for defamation and emotional distress, settling for $2.5 million. Vallejo issued a statement after the settlement acknowledging the case had not been handled with the sensitivity it required, but the department never fully vindicated the couple. Some investigators left the force years later.
Despite Muller’s conviction, Denise and Aaron still wondered whether he had accomplices. Their persistence, public advocacy and media appearances—including a book and the Netflix series American Nightmare—kept attention on questions the initial investigation hadn’t answered.
Chief Nick Borges of Seaside, California, who had watched their story, reached out to apologize on behalf of law enforcement and invited them to speak. Borges began corresponding with Muller in prison, asking whether he acted alone. Muller responded and then, in a longer letter, confessed to earlier crimes in Santa Clara County from 2009—break-ins and attempted sexual assaults that matched cases in Palo Alto and Mountain View. The details in his letters were specific enough to suggest inside knowledge only the perpetrator would have.
El Dorado County District Attorney Vern Pierson, who was not involved in the original Vallejo investigation but had been following developments, brought a different approach: science-based interviewing. Pierson and a highly trained FBI interviewer flew to Arizona in November 2024 to speak with Muller in prison, using nonjudgmental techniques aimed at eliciting truthful, detailed information. Muller, professing a religious transformation, spoke at length about a history of voyeurism, stalking and escalating sexual violence.
Over hours of recorded interview, Muller described a pattern: prowling at night, watching through windows, installing cameras in bathrooms, and committing violent home invasions. He admitted to using deception during the Quinns’ attack—creating the illusion of accomplices by playing recorded whisper tracks and pretending to speak to others—though he insisted he acted alone. He also confessed to a Contra Costa County home invasion two weeks after the Quinns’ attack, describing using a ladder to enter a house, tying up a family, and forcing a mother to withdraw $30,000 in ransom money; that family had never reported the crime at the time.
Pierson and investigators pursued Muller’s claims. They used details from the interview to locate the ravine and found the ladder Muller had described. They identified a State Parks report from Aug. 7, 1993, describing a campsite attack that matched Muller’s account of his first known assault when he was 16. Investigators tracked down the surviving victim, who asked to be called “Lynn.” She described being awakened in her tent and forced out at gunpoint. She remembered being left on a footbridge, untied by her boyfriend, and said that at the time she felt officers did not take her seriously.
For decades Lynn carried fear and vigilance—avoiding being alone at night and remaining hyperaware in public. When investigators reengaged her about Muller’s confessions, she said she finally felt believed. The discovery of the ladder and photographs of a gun from the 1993 response, along with Muller’s specific descriptions and other corroborating evidence, tied him to crimes long thought cold or unreported.
Muller’s expanded confessions and the investigators’ follow-up led to new charges. In late 2024 and into 2025, he was charged in Santa Clara and Contra Costa counties for attempted rapes and the unreported home invasion. While in custody he continued to write, sometimes appearing to court contact with Denise and Aaron; prosecutors worried he sought to manipulate victims into meeting him. For safety, Denise and Aaron observed a filmed interview between Muller and prosecutors from another room, as Pierson and the FBI interviewer pressed him about accomplices and motivations. Muller again alternately denied accomplices and described how he faked a group presence.
For Denise and Aaron the interviews and courtroom appearances were a long-awaited reckoning. They said confronting Muller—whether directly or by witnessing his interviews—helped them reclaim power: to show they were not afraid and that his lies could not silence them. Their advocacy and persistence set in motion new prosecutions.
By summer 2025, Muller had been convicted of the additional crimes uncovered after his confessions. At sentencing, Lynn read a victim impact statement she had carried for three decades: telling Muller that her voice had finally been heard and that he would now be silenced. Muller received four life sentences.
Investigators continued to test Denise’s rape kit, which Vallejo police had only preliminarily examined in 2015. Full testing in 2025 revealed a mixture of DNA, including Muller’s, but remained inconclusive about additional assailants. Pierson said he did not believe there had been accomplices, interpreting the mix of DNA and Muller’s own statements as consistent with him acting alone and creating the impression of others. Chief Borges, however, said he still thought it possible Muller had help and vowed to pursue any leads.
Denise and Aaron have gone on to build a life together: they married, started a family and used their platform to push for change. They’ve spoken publicly about how being doubted by police compounded the trauma of the attack. Chief Borges said their story underscores a crucial lesson for law enforcement: listen to victims, avoid premature judgment, and follow evidence rather than presuppositions.
The Quinns now work with police and prosecutors to advocate for better interviewing practices and to encourage belief and thoroughness when victims come forward. They say they feel a responsibility to use their experience to help others and to prevent future victims from being dismissed.
Kenny Park left the Vallejo Police Department in 2020; Mathew Mustard retired in 2024. Denise and Aaron settled with the city but say full vindication still feels incomplete. Yet the convictions that followed Muller’s confessions, and the long-delayed accountability for crimes that had haunted survivors for decades, gave many of them the “last word” they had been denied for years.