Los Angeles Times (Sunday)

Cop still on job despite assault claim

Ex-girlfriend alleges sexual abuse; LAPD corroborat­es it, then quietly backtracks.

- By Kevin Rector

Kelsie Mathews thought she’d finally won a bit of justice.

She had worked with Los Angeles police investigat­ors for months to prove that her former boyfriend, an LAPD officer, had sexually assaulted her and acted inappropri­ately with other women and arrestees. In September, she received a letter saying the investigat­ors had corroborat­ed her claims.

The letter said an “appropriat­e penalty” would be imposed on her ex-boyfriend, Officer Oscar Rojas, but it would not be disclosed to Mathews or the public due to confidenti­ality laws around police personnel records.

Mathews, a 35-year-old actress and television production assistant, said relief washed over her. Prosecutor­s had already decided not to charge Rojas criminally, citing a lack of evidence, but the LAPD’s letter made it seem as if he would at least be held accountabl­e within the department.

“Although I don’t know the exact punishment, knowing that my tears didn’t fall on deaf ears is a small victory and some kind of justice,” she said in an emotional TikTok post.

That feeling wouldn’t last.

Mathews’ case is one of many in recent years in which LAPD officers who

‘He kept telling me he is a police officer, so no one would believe me over him.’ — KELSIE MATHEWS, who said her ex-boyfriend, Officer Oscar Rojas, sexually assaulted her. The LAPD determined that she was telling the truth, but he kept his job.

are accused of serious misconduct have been spared punishment by department disciplina­ry boards whose decisions trump those of internal investigat­ors and the police chief and occur under a veil of secrecy that deters independen­t scrutiny.

According to an investigat­ion by The Times, the assault finding against Rojas was quietly overturned by such a panel after what’s known as a Board of Rights proceeding. Rojas, who declined to comment through an attorney, was never discipline­d for assault and remains an officer, despite being recommende­d for terminatio­n by LAPD Chief Michel Moore.

Rojas returned to the job and worked out of the Foothill Division until recently, when he was reassigned to home pending a new investigat­ion into an unrelated matter that officials would not describe.

The issue of officer discipline has attracted attention for years. Moore criticized the process in 2020 as too lenient on the most problemati­c officers. In January, Mayor Eric Garcetti said the disciplina­ry process needed to be reformed because it too often resulted in stiff penalties supported by city and police officials being set aside in favor of lesser penalties or none at all. In March, the LAPD inspector general released a report finding that most officers found to have wrongfully opened fire in recent years avoided serious punishment or received no discipline at all.

Newer, all-civilian hearing boards, like the one that heard Mathews’ case in 2021, have been found to be even more lenient than boards comprising fellow officers. The Police Commission is working to revise its manual for disciplina­ry hearings but won’t say what the revisions would address or when they would be complete, as they are under negotiatio­n with the police union.

For Mathews, the secrecy of the process made it scary and intimidati­ng and undermined its legitimacy. The Times generally does not name sexual assault survivors, but Mathews agreed to be identified in part to pierce the veil around the process and to share the toll it took.

To pursue her case against Rojas, Mathews had to open to investigat­ors the contents of her cell phone and her most intimate text messages. She sat through five interviews reliving the moments when she alleged Rojas abused her.

She testified in person over the course of three days at Rojas’ hearing, where a labor representa­tive for the officer put her through a brutal cross-examinatio­n before a panel of three older men. She said she had the support of a victim advocate and the female internal affairs detective working the case, but a friend who came to stand by her had to wait outside the hearing room.

To realize months later that the slim victory she thought she’d won did not end in discipline for assault, and that Rojas was still an officer, was infuriatin­g, Mathews said. It made her feel as if the LAPD intentiona­lly misled her to think he had been punished in order to keep her quiet.

“It’s disgusting,” she said. “The system needs a total revamp.”

Lizabeth Rhodes, the LAPD’s director of constituti­onal policing and policy, said the law bars the department from discussing individual cases against officers, but every allegation of misconduct is “thoroughly investigat­ed.”

The investigat­ion

On March 20, 2019, a Crime Stoppers tip line received an anonymous email saying Rojas had been “photograph­ing nude models in his uniform with his badge and department-issued gun, and posting pictures on social media such as Instagram,” according to a report by prosecutor­s in the Los Angeles County district attorney’s office.

“He also sexually abused his ex-girlfriend. He hides behind his badge while [he] preys on girls,” the tipster said.

Soon after, Mathews said, internal affairs showed up at her door.

At first she was scared, in part because Rojas had warned her that she would never be able to convince others — especially other cops — that he had abused her.

“He kept telling me he is a police officer, so no one would believe me over him,” she said.

But Mathews felt she owed it to herself and to other women who are in similar situations to speak up, she said. So she cooperated.

Mathews said she told the detectives everything she could remember, digging back through memories she had tried to bury.

She said she began dating Rojas in August 2018, and the relationsh­ip was toxic from the start. She said she tried to break up with him multiple times over the next seven months but stayed in the relationsh­ip for complicate­d emotional reasons involving fear and “trauma bonding” — a process similar to Stockholm syndrome, in which victims can form attachment­s to their abusers over time.

According to the prosecutor­s’ report, Mathews described to investigat­ors occasions in which Rojas forced himself on her or “sodomized” her as she screamed “stop” and “no” and struggled to get away.

In California, the crime of sodomy requires penetratio­n of the anus without consent, using force to overcome the victim’s will.

In one incident, Mathews described Rojas holding her down and inserting a sex toy into her as she cried and tried to fight him off, according to the report. After he stopped, she said, she went to the bathroom, realized she was bleeding, then “went to bed, curled herself into a fetal position, cried and told Rojas not to touch her,” the report said. “Rojas told her she was fine, and was overreacti­ng.”

Rojas made no response to the allegation­s in the publicly available portions of the report.

Text messages between the two, cited in the report, included references to abuse.

In one, Rojas wrote, “I am mean to you ... and make you feel abuse.”

In another, Rojas contemplat­ed them breaking up, writing, “I guess I am f— up and can’t change, and honestly if you feel like I am abusing you that way it’s time for me to leave.”

Prosecutor­s wrote that Mathews, in text messages to Rojas and friends, “accused Rojas of transgress­ions, including trying to force her into a threesome, being verbally mean to her and engaging in ‘emotional cheating,’ ” but never accused him in the texts of sodomizing her.

A close friend of Mathews spoke directly with The Times on condition of anonymity because she feared being treated negatively by the LAPD. She said Mathews had claimed at the time that Rojas was abusive, including that he had sodomized her. The friend said she had urged Mathews to break up with him.

Investigat­ors also reviewed images that Rojas allegedly sent to Mathews from work.

Under one picture, reviewed by The Times, of a person on a stretcher, Rojas had written, “I tased this guy multiple times after we got into a scuffle with him.” Under another picture of a man in a jail facility, the text read, “That’s the mother f— that ruin my night.”

The Times also reviewed an image from Instagram that Rojas, an amateur photograph­er, had allegedly shot of a model wearing a police uniform and holding a gun.

Bill Seki, an attorney for Rojas, said neither he nor his client would comment on the case.

‘The investigat­ion determined that the acts alleged did occur and [constitute] misconduct.’ — LAPD LETTER TO MATHEWS, who was told that Rojas would face an “appropriat­e penalty”

Mathews’ situation ‘is a primary example of how the system was really geared to fail her.’ — PATTI GIGGANS, who works with victims of abuse by intimate partners through her organizati­on Peace Over Violence

The criminal review

Three counts of sodomy by Rojas were presented by police to prosecutor­s in the L.A. County district attorney’s office in July 2020, under former Dist. Atty. Jackie Lacey. All three were rejected.

In their report on the case, prosecutor­s noted that Mathews and Rojas had texted about abuse by the officer and that Mathews had discussed abuse by him with a friend. They noted that Mathews’ therapist had provided a statement to investigat­ors saying that Mathews suffered “emotional and psychologi­cal impact in her daily life,” allegedly as a result of being sexually assaulted by Rojas, and that the assaults she had reported included sodomy while in Las Vegas.

The prosecutor­s also noted that Mathews had medical records related to treatment for an anal condition in May 2019 — about two months after the couple had broken up — that she said was the result of being sodomized by Rojas.

Still, prosecutor­s concluded that there was “no corroborat­ive physical evidence” to prove sodomy claims.

They said there were “inconsiste­ncies” in Mathews’ story, including when specific abuses took place, and they questioned the timing of her disclosure­s of being sodomized to others, noting that some came after she and Rojas had broken up.

The prosecutor­s wrote that Mathews was “extremely upset” by alleged infidelity on Rojas’ part at the end of their relationsh­ip and that she had reached out to other women on Instagram to warn them about him, including by accessing his social media accounts.

All of that, according to prosecutor­s, could be used in a criminal proceeding to attack Mathews’ credibilit­y and suggest that she had “a motive to fabricate” allegation­s against Rojas. They concluded that they “could not prove Rojas committed the crime of sodomy beyond a reasonable doubt” and closed the case without filing charges.

The prosecutor’s office, now under Dist. Atty. George Gascón, said it would not comment on the decisions in the case under the prior administra­tion. But a spokespers­on said the office takes all allegation­s of sexual assault seriously and assigns prosecutor­s who have training and experience in litigating sex crimes to all cases involving sexual assault allegation­s, including those against officers.

Patti Giggans, who has worked with victims of intimate partner abuse in L.A. for decades through her organizati­on Peace Over Violence, said she was not surprised by the decision to close the case.

Sexual assault victims have many legitimate reasons for not immediatel­y coming forward about abuse, Giggans said, and minor inconsiste­ncies in their recollecti­ons of abuse are common.

“In court,” she said, “that’s always used against the survivor.”

Prosecutor­s rarely file charges in sexual assault cases involving intimate partners precisely because of such vulnerabil­ities, because there are usually few or no witnesses and because the accused can claim that the alleged abuse was consensual sex, Giggans said.

Sadly, she said, Mathews’ situation “is a primary example of how the system was really geared to fail her.”

Internal discipline

Prosecutor­s never told Mathews of their decision not to charge Rojas. Instead, she was told by the internal affairs detectives, who said they were still pursuing administra­tive discipline and needed her to testify.

Mathews said she was told that the disciplina­ry hearing would be tightly controlled and that she and Rojas would be kept apart. Instead, she said, Rojas parked his car beside hers in the parking lot and came near her in the hallway, claiming he was looking for the bathroom.

When Rojas was testifying, Mathews said, she wasn’t allowed in the room. But when it came time for her to testify, his representa­tive peppered her with questions while Rojas stood behind him and stared her down, she said.

Mathews said the representa­tive ridiculed her and tried to poke holes in her story by shaming her and implying she was slutty or stupid. She said a previous abusive relationsh­ip she was in was referenced to suggest that she was a chronic accuser, not a real victim.

By the end, Mathews said, she felt victimized all over again — fully exposed, but in an environmen­t that shielded Rojas, his representa­tive and the hearing officers from scrutiny.

After she left, she heard nothing for months, until the letter came in the mail.

“Your allegation­s that an employee photograph­ed partially nude models in a Department uniform, sent inappropri­ate photograph­s of arrestees, and sexually assaulted you over different dates, have been classified as Sustained, which means the investigat­ion determined that the acts alleged did occur and [constitute] misconduct,” the letter read.

It said Rojas would be discipline­d.

He wasn’t — at least not for assault. The Times could not determine what discipline, if any, Rojas received in relation to the other allegation­s of misconduct.

Under department policy, Mathews was supposed to be informed that the sexual assault finding was reversed. But she said she never was — until she was told by The Times.

Giggans said she was pleasantly surprised that the LAPD took Mathews’ claims seriously and pursued them, which she said is rare. But the secrecy around the discipline process — and the outcome of the case — alarmed her.

“It speaks to this bigger issue: the lack of transparen­cy, the lack of fairness, the lack of openness, the lack of representa­tion in this hearing,” Giggans said. “That, I think, needs to be reformed.”

Secrecy persists

Supporters of the current discipline process, including the police union, say claims that it is too secretive are baseless. They say officers are subject to the same prosecutor­ial scrutiny as everyone else and deserve to be treated like everyone else when it comes to noncrimina­l, workplace matters — which are almost always handled discreetly by employers.

Union officials claim that officers often face false accusation­s and that closeddoor hearings provide a fair means of adjudicati­ng such claims without needlessly tarnishing an officer’s reputation.

Transparen­cy advocates disagree. They argue that disciplina­ry proceeding­s against officers accused of mistreatin­g the members of the public they are sworn to protect are a matter of public interest. They contend that such proceeding­s should be made public — just as they were until 2006.

That year, a California Supreme Court ruling on the confidenti­ality of police records was interprete­d by L.A. and other California cities as requiring police disciplina­ry hearings to be closed — unless state legislator­s changed the law to explicitly allow access once more.

Lawmakers have not done so. In 2019, they did act to make police records related to findings of excessive force, dishonesty or sexual assault open to the public, but there are limits — including that those findings must be “sustained.”

Citing the 2019 law and the LAPD’s letter to Mathews sustaining her sexual assault allegation­s, The Times requested the department’s investigat­ive records from Mathews’ case and was denied.

Cmdr. Bryan Lium, who was head of the LAPD’s risk management and legal affairs division at the time, confirmed the authentici­ty of the letter Mathews had received but said the outcome had been “changed” as a result of the disciplina­ry board hearing, and there were no records that could be released — meaning the sustained sexual assault finding, at least, had been overturned.

Lium said Mathews should have been sent an updated letter, but that wouldn’t be public, either.

“We will not release it, and I can’t disclose it, and I can’t discuss it,” Lium said.

Mathews said she never got a new letter.

Were it not for The Times’ inquiries, she never would have known that the outcome of the case had changed or that the exboyfrien­d she assumed would be fired is still an officer — which she finds “terrifying.”

Mathews had also never seen the prosecutor­s’ report rejecting her case against Rojas.

When The Times shared it with her, it made her angry — both for herself and for other victims of sexual assault, she said. Prosecutor­s seemed less focused on her claims against Rojas than on the potential attempts by his defense counsel to discredit her, which was wrong, she said.

“This is what they do to victims,” she added. “This is why women don’t come forward.”

 ?? Photograph­s by Mel Melcon Los Angeles Times ?? KELSIE MATHEWS, 35, said she felt “some kind of justice” when the LAPD confirmed her claim of sexual assault by an officer. The finding was quietly overturned.
Photograph­s by Mel Melcon Los Angeles Times KELSIE MATHEWS, 35, said she felt “some kind of justice” when the LAPD confirmed her claim of sexual assault by an officer. The finding was quietly overturned.
 ?? ?? MATHEWS feels she owes it to herself to speak up. She agreed to be identified in part to pierce the secrecy around the LAPD’s disciplina­ry review process.
MATHEWS feels she owes it to herself to speak up. She agreed to be identified in part to pierce the secrecy around the LAPD’s disciplina­ry review process.

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