What Happened in Vegas...

"I heard it might be for people who don't use credit a lot," Robson says.

Amanda Aguirre, a Democratic state Senator from Yuma who helped sponsor Arizona's credit freeze bill, has her own tale of woe, though nothing so dramatic as Robert Maynard's. The Regional Center for Border Health Inc., a walk-in health clinic in San Luis, was struck last year by an identity thief.

Giulio Sciorio

Martha Strachan

LifeLock has taken off in the past two years as fear of identify theft grows.

Related Content

• Three Things to Eat, Drink, and Bake this Weekend
  May 25, 2012
• 88: Jan Wichayanuparp and Helen Yung
  May 25, 2012
• Top Five Must-See Shows This Weekend
  May 25, 2012
• 89: Christopher Gross
  May 24, 2012
• Tucson's Mission Creeps Celebrate Star Wars' 35th Birthday at Rips Ales & Cocktails
  May 23, 2012

More About

• Robert Maynard
• Todd Davis
• Phoenix (Arizona)
• Personal Finance
• Personal Credit Ratings

Like this Story?

Sign up for the Weekly Newsletter: Our weekly feature stories, movie reviews, calendar picks and more - minus the newsprint and sent directly to your inbox.

Privacy Policy Cancel Continue

"Somebody used the routing number of the nonprofit agency, went on the Internet and paid all kinds of bills," says Aguirre, the agency's president and CEO.

It's not a good example for her bill — a credit freeze wouldn't have prevented the crime. And like most identity-theft victims, the agency paid no out-of-pocket expenses. The bank reimbursed the agency the $6,000 that was stolen, and her staff spent about five hours doing paperwork and making phone calls to fix the damage.

LifeLock CEO Todd Davis says no one ever questioned Maynard's victim tale until New Times called.

Any public revelation that Maynard's story wasn't true would be a "massive downside" for LifeLock, he says, and he wouldn't have repeated the story if he knew it was false.

"If I thought there was something, why would I go jeopardize everything else we're doing when I have very effective messaging that works without [Maynard's jail story]," he says. "It would give me grave concern if there was an issue with that story."

Despite that, Davis refuses to call Maynard at the time of the interview to ask him about the situation. He says he'll "look into it" and the company will issue an official response.

That was on May 10. New Times is still waiting.

On May 21, Maynard told a Today show producer his victim story. And on May 17, Davis repeated the story to members of the Enterprise Network business association during a speech about the company at the Lakeview Inn at Camelback Golf Club in Phoenix.

The Clark County D.A.'s representative, Zadrowski, says nobody from LifeLock has called him about Maynard.

So much for Davis' "grave concern." Clearly, the company considers the bogus victim story too precious to throw out.

Zadrowski grew indignant when he was e-mailed newspaper articles in which Maynard tells the tall tale. If it were based in Nevada, LifeLock would be subjecting itself to potential criminal liability for obtaining money or services under false pretenses, he says. But a prosecution would depend on the unique facts of the case.

Ken Abbe, a staff attorney for the FTC, says speaking to the media is usually covered by the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, but a case for false advertising could potentially be made.

"The question is: Is that the story that makes consumers act on their decision?" Abbe says, making it clear he cannot comment on whether LifeLock is breaking the law.

It cannot be predicted what will happen to LifeLock if customers lose trust in it.

The company offers a legitimate service, and no LifeLock subscribers have complained of being misled, Davis says.

"We're squeaky clean," he brags.

Then again, until now, LifeLock customers haven't had a reason to doubt the word of Davis and Maynard.

Calls to venture capitalists Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, Bessemer Venture Partners and Biltmore Ventures — the groups that, in April, kicked $6 million in funding to LifeLock — were not returned.

In another sign of the company's growth, LifeLock was set to transform its office at Rural and Guadalupe into the main call center and move its headquarters to two floors at the Hayden Ferry Lakeview building next to Town Lake in Tempe.

When New Times finally reached Maynard on his cell phone in mid-May, he hung up. New Times called him again and asked him point blank whether he had stolen his father's identity to take out the American Express card. He didn't deny it but said, "You better be real careful."

He was also asked to explain the facts behind the jail story. Before hanging up again, he blurted, "You're going to say what you're going to say. You're going to assassinate my character."

Nobody could do that better than Robert J. Maynard Jr. already has.