Published April 23, 2024
By: Brooke Colombo
When victims of violent crimes across the nation enter a police station for an interview, they can probably expect to find themselves in the same barren room that suspects do.
Just a table and chairs is suitable for some interviews. However, as victims of violent crimes tell detectives about what is likely one of the most traumatic moments of their lives, the typical interview room environment offers little comfort.
Tracy Matheson is all too familiar with this issue after her 22-year-old daughter, Molly Jane Matheson, was raped and murdered. The loss led her down a deep path of research into firsthand accounts from victims that many feel unheard and uncomfortable during the criminal investigation process.
That’s why she founded Project Beloved. Her nonprofit provides thoughtfully curated furniture and decor for interview rooms at police departments around the nation with the goal of putting victims and witnesses at ease.
The Denton Police Department is the most recent recipient of one of these soft interview rooms.
Project Beloved staff came by the headquarters Friday to set up and explain the importance of the room.
John Landolfo, a detective in the department’s Special Victims Unit, came across Project Beloved about a year ago. He visited the University of North Texas Police Department, which already had a soft interview room from Project Beloved.
“We were blown away,” Landolfo said. “It was beautiful, comfortable, soothing. … It just felt so comfortable. And we’re like, ‘How did you guys get this room?’”
When he contacted the nonprofit, Landolfo was worried there would be a lot of red tape to make it happen. However, Matheson told him all the department would need to do is paint the walls and Project Beloved would take care of the rest.
There was a very long waitlist, though. The Denton Police Department joined it in early fall 2023 and wasn’t expecting to get the room as quickly as April.
But Charlotte Nabors, a retired pastor at First Christian Church of Denton, stepped in. She heard about Project Beloved at an event for victims of violence.
“On the wall was this list of Texas police departments that had Project Beloved rooms, and there was no Denton,” Nabors said. “So, I called Tracy and I said, ‘There’s no Denton. Why is there no Denton? We’re going to do something about this.’”
Nabors learned the department had already requested a soft interview room. So, First Christian Church of Denton provided the funds to pay for the room.
“Based on an incredibly generous donation of time, effort and money, what we’re able to do is not only move the installation of our room way up to the perfect timing right in the middle of Sexual Assault Awareness Month,” Landolfo said. “But we’re also going to have a second room installed in the substation in the coming months — thanks to the First Christian Church and Project Beloved.”
It wasn’t long before the soft interview room was put into use. Hours after Project Beloved set it up on Friday, a woman and her children met with detectives in the room to file a sexual assault report.
Why does a soft interview room matter?
A soft interview room is more than just a pretty room, Matheson told department staff. But to understand why, she needed to tell the story of her daughter and how she believes law enforcement officers’ actions either contributed to more victims or were part of bringing justice.
On April 10, 2017, Matheson received the news no mother wants to hear. Her daughter didn’t show up to work that day and no one had heard from her.
She visited Molly’s apartment to find the door unlocked. Venturing into the bathroom, she found Molly damp and lifeless on the shower floor.
Molly’s death was no accident, Fort Worth police determined. She was raped, strangled and murdered. Molly knew the perpetrator, Reginald Kimbro. They had previously dated.
The mother’s thoughts spiraled after hearing Molly’s cause of death.
“I don’t think there’s a good cause for any child to ever die,” she said. “I can tell you that the reality of knowing that my daughter is dead because of an act of violence brought by another person is not an easy thing to deal with.”
Days after Molly’s death, Kimbro raped and murdered 36-year-old Megan Getrum at Arbor Hills Nature Preserve in Plano. Her body was found in Lake Ray Hubbard. She was a stranger to Kimbro.
Matheson and law enforcement discovered that Kimbro’s violent crimes didn’t start with the slayings of Molly and Getrum.
Detectives learned of a report made to the Plano Police Department in 2012 regarding Kimbro. An 18-year-old high schooler named Melissa reported that Kimbro raped her, strangled her and held her captive for some time.
She immediately reported the incident to her parents, who took her to get a forensic medical exam and to file a police report.
“Very long and complicated story made short, she met a detective who didn’t believe her,” Matheson said. “There was nothing she could say or do, there was no evidence that could be provided — whether it’s from the hospital and doctors or pictures that documented strangulation. He found the suspect highly credible and very respectful. [Kimbro] was just a good guy.”
Melissa was labeled uncooperative after she became frustrated with the detective, Tracy said.
Matheson said she learned that in 2014, Allen police responded to a report of a woman who was found “left for dead” and “incoherent perhaps to because of being drugged,” outside of a party. The ER doctor ordered that a forensic medical exam be conducted.
Investigators learned Kimbro was at the party and interviewed him. They collected a sample of his DNA to compare to the forensic medical exam sample.
“This is where the backlog becomes part of our story,” Matheson said. “It took the lab two years to come back and say there was DNA in the kit and then it took the lab another year to come back and say, ‘Oh, the DNA actually belongs to the suspect who said he had nothing to do with it.’”
The Allen Police Department was notified of the DNA analysis 41 days before Kimbro murdered Molly, Matheson said. He was not arrested during that period.
Also in 2014, Matheson said, Kimbro assaulted another woman, 20-year-old Katie who was on spring break in South Padre. Kimbro followed her to the bathroom and raped and strangled her, Tracy said. She immediately reported the incident, and Kimbro was arrested at the scene.
“She encountered a detective who understood what was going on,” Matheson said. “She was traumatized. She said, ‘I want to just go home. I can’t do this.’ The detective said, ‘Don’t you want to make sure he doesn’t do this to someone else?’ She said, ‘Yes.’ He said, ‘Then let’s get him.’”
Katie and Melissa found Matheson on social media almost immediately after Molly’s murder.
“I have walked with these two women. One who dealt with a detective who made her life a living hell and made it clear they did not believe her,” Matheson said. “Then, Katie, who said to me over and over, ‘Tracy, my detective believed me’ … as if she’s affirming that inside herself. The two experiences are polar opposites, and it’s heartbreaking to see the impact of what Melissa has had to deal with. And South Padre takes their case to the Cameron County District Attorney’s Office and … Cameron County won’t take it to the grand jury.”
Matheson said that the Plano Police Department, which Melissa reported to, got notification through the Combined DNA Index System (CODIS) about Kimbro’s involvement in the rape and strangulation case in South Padre.
“Plano PD made the decision that the South Padre case does not impact the facts of their case,” Matheson said. “And they then said in the case notes, ‘Do not tell Melissa about the CODIS hit.’”
As Kimbro was being investigated for Molly and Getrum’s murders, a fourth woman from McKinney reported that Kimbro drugged, strangled and raped her.
In 2022, Kimbro was sentenced to life in prison without parole for the rape and murder of Molly Matheson. He was sentenced to life without parole for the rape and murder of Getrum. He was sentenced to 20 years for the Plano case, life in prison for the South Padre case, 20 years for the Allen case and 20 years for the McKinney case.
“So, all of that, in light of my daughter is dead, is what helped me figure out I’m going to take steps forward,” Tracy Matheson said. “I have to do something about this. I cannot just sit here and be quiet.”
Matheson founded Project Beloved on the one-year anniversary of Molly’s death in 2018. After copious research and conversations with experts and survivors, she said she learned that any effort to make sexual assault victims feel more at ease can have a massive impact.
She led the effort to create Molly Jane’s Law, which requires police agencies to enter information into an FBI-maintained database to identify serial perpetrators. She provides clothing and hygiene kits to hospitals so that victims who have to leave their clothing behind for evidence collection don’t walk out of the hospital in just scrubs.
She provides soft interview rooms by request. Agencies across the country now contact Project Beloved asking for their soft interview room services. The Denton Police Department’s is the 93rd room they’ve completed.
Soft interview rooms aren’t just a pretty room, Tracy said. They’re one way to show sexual assault survivors that they matter.
“Our mission statement is that we strive to educate, advocate and collaborate to change the conversation about sexual assault and empower survivors to find their voices,” Tracy said. “... I say over and over again, we can do better. We know better now. We’ve got to do better, and it’s not hard. It’s not rocket science.”