06/30/2026
The Investigation That Changed the Way I Saw Criminal Defense
Finding My Purpose, Finding My Profession
Certain investigations become permanent reference points in a career. They are not necessarily the largest, most publicized, or even the most legally significant cases. Instead, they are the investigations that fundamentally change the way an investigator thinks. They become the cases that quietly redefine your professional identity. For me, this was one of those investigations.
Looking back after years of criminal defense work, thousands of investigative hours, hundreds of felony cases, and the privilege of teaching, writing, and mentoring investigators across the country. I no longer remember this case simply because of the allegations or the outcome. I remember it because it fundamentally changed my understanding of what criminal defense investigation was supposed to be—and what, unfortunately, it too often was not.
This investigation became one of the defining moments of my professional life.It taught me how little I knew. More importantly, it showed me the investigator I wanted to become.
Searching for a Profession
When I first entered the field of criminal defense investigation, I believed that being a good investigator was enough. I had already developed investigative skills through previous professional experience. I understood interviewing techniques, documentation, evidence preservation, report writing, and investigative procedure. I knew how to gather facts and organize information. What I did not understand was the discipline of criminal defense investigation.
Unlike traditional investigations, criminal defense investigation carries a unique responsibility. We are not attempting to prove guilt. We are not attempting to prove innocence. Our obligation is to ensure that every conclusion affecting another person's liberty has been subjected to independent, objective, and professionally disciplined examination.
At the time, I did not yet understand that distinction. I was eager to learn. Like anyone entering a specialized profession, I assumed there would be experienced practitioners willing to teach the next generation. I was wrong.
A Profession That Didn't Teach Its Own
During those early years, I searched for mentors. I contacted experienced investigators whose work I respected. I asked questions. I sought opportunities to observe. I hoped someone would allow me to learn—not simply how to complete investigative assignments, but how experienced criminal defense investigators thought. I wasn't looking for business. I wasn't asking anyone to give me clients. I wasn't looking for shortcuts. I simply wanted someone willing to teach me the profession. Unfortunately, that guidance was difficult to find.
Whether it was concern about creating future competition, fear of losing clients, or simply the culture that had developed within portions of the profession, meaningful mentorship was rare. Most investigators worked independently. Knowledge was often treated as a competitive advantage rather than a professional responsibility.
I do not suggest that every investigator shared this philosophy. But it was my experience. It was disappointing. More importantly, I believed it was harmful. Criminal defense investigation is too important a profession to depend upon isolated practitioners guarding their experience. Every investigator who enters this field represents another opportunity to strengthen the quality of justice itself. If we fail to teach those who follow us, we weaken the profession we claim to serve.
At the time, however, I had no choice but to learn through experience. Every case became my classroom. Every mistake became another lesson. Every success was earned one investigation at a time.
One Investigation That Changed Everything
Then came one particular case. The assignment came from a Pennsylvania criminal defense attorney representing a client accused of a serious criminal offense, who resided in California at the time. I was retained to conduct an independent defense investigation, interview witnesses, locate additional individuals connected to the case, perform background research, and prepare investigative reports that could assist defense counsel in evaluating the evidence. The case file reflected the realities of criminal defense work—attorney communications, investigative assignments, witness interviews, background inquiries, and comprehensive reporting. At first glance, it appeared to be another investigative assignment. It wasn't.
It became one of the investigations that permanently changed the way I viewed criminal defense investigation. I entered believing my responsibility was to find answers. Instead, I learned that my responsibility was to ask better questions.
Learning to Listen
The witnesses taught me my first great lesson. No two people remembered events exactly the same way. Some remembered conversations. Others remembered emotions. Some remembered certainty. Others remembered confusion. Some confidently described events that other witnesses never mentioned. Everyone believed they were telling the truth.
Yet their stories differed. Initially, I viewed those differences as inconsistencies. Eventually, I realized they represented something much deeper. Human memory. Human perception.Human behavior. The job of a criminal defense investigator is not simply to determine whether witnesses disagree. It is to understand why. That realization transformed the way I conducted interviews. I stopped listening for confirmation. I began listening for understanding.I stopped trying to fit testimony into existing narratives. Instead, I allowed each witness to tell their own story before attempting to understand how—or even whether—it fit within the larger picture.
That simple change would influence every interview I conducted for the rest of my career.
Questioning the Narrative
As the investigation progressed, another lesson emerged. By the time a criminal defense investigator receives a case, the government's narrative has usually already begun to solidify. Police reports have been written. Witnesses have been interviewed. Charging decisions have been made. Assumptions have become embedded within official reports. Once those assumptions are repeated often enough, they begin to resemble established fact.
That realization was unsettling. The defense investigator enters the process after much of the official investigation has already occurred. We are expected to evaluate conclusions that others have accepted, often under tremendous time constraints and with limited resources. I realized that our responsibility was fundamentally different from everyone else's. We were not simply gathering additional information. We were evaluating whether the investigative process itself deserved confidence. That distinction became one of the foundational principles upon which I would later build my career.
My First Criminal Defense Victory
When the investigation concluded, something happened that I will never forget. The work contributed to a successful outcome for the defense. It became my first felony criminal defense victory. Winning was never about celebration. It was about validation. For the first time, I witnessed disciplined investigative work making a tangible difference in another person's life. That experience changed me.
It reinforced my belief that careful interviewing, objective analysis, thorough documentation, and independent investigation were not simply professional obligations. They were essential safeguards within the justice system. That case proved to me that criminal defense investigators matter. Not because we argue cases. Not because we stand before juries. But because our work can change the course of a person's life before anyone ever enters a courtroom.
Finding the Mentor I Had Been Searching For
Despite that success, I still felt something was missing. I continued searching for guidance. I continued looking for someone who believed criminal defense investigation was a profession worth teaching. Then, in 2014, everything changed. I met Brandon Perron. For the first time since entering criminal defense investigation, I encountered someone who genuinely believed that knowledge should be shared rather than protected. Brandon did not see education as creating competition. He saw education as strengthening the profession.
That difference cannot be overstated. What began as a professional relationship quickly became one of the most influential friendships of my life. Brandon became my mentor. He became my teacher. He became a trusted friend. He became a confidant. Over the years, he became a brother.
He was the first person who truly invested in teaching me what criminal defense investigation could become when approached as a disciplined profession rather than simply investigative work.
Through Brandon, I was introduced to the Criminal Defense Investigation Training Council (CDITC). For the first time, I discovered an organization committed to structured education, ethics, professional standards, certification, and the advancement of criminal defense investigation. It was exactly what I had been searching for. In 2015, I enrolled in the CDITC National Criminal Defense Investigator Academy.
Looking back today, that decision changed the trajectory of my career. The Academy did more than teach investigative techniques. It taught professional discipline. It taught ethics. It taught structured methodology. It introduced me to investigators who believed that excellence was achieved through education, collaboration, and continuous improvement—not by protecting knowledge from others. The rest, as they say, is history. Certification followed. Advanced education followed. Faculty responsibilities followed. Leadership opportunities followed. Eventually, authorship followed. When I look back over my career, I can trace nearly every major professional milestone to two turning points. One was this investigation. The other was meeting Brandon Perron. One taught me what a criminal defense investigation could accomplish.
The other showed me what the profession itself could become.
A Promise to the Future
Those experiences changed me in ways I could never have anticipated. I promised myself that if I ever reached a position where I possessed knowledge worth sharing, I would never allow another investigator to experience the same isolation I had experienced entering this profession.
Knowledge should never be treated as private property. It should be viewed as a professional obligation. That promise became one of the guiding principles of my career. It is why I accepted opportunities to teach. It is why I became involved with CDITC. It is why I eventually established the California Center for Investigative Study. It is why I wrote books on ethics and investigative methodology. It is why I have spent countless hours mentoring investigators entering this profession. Everything I have built can be traced back to a simple conviction: Someone finally took the time to teach me. I owed the profession the same commitment.
Looking Back
Today, when I teach criminal defense investigators, I often think back to that early investigation in Pennsylvania. Not because it was extraordinary. But because it was transformative. It reminded me that investigation is not simply about gathering evidence. It is about serving justice through disciplined inquiry. It taught me that every witness deserves to be heard. Every assumption deserves to be challenged. Every investigation deserves independent scrutiny, And every new investigator deserves the opportunity to learn from those who came before.
Those lessons would ultimately shape every major chapter of my professional life—from my work as an investigator, to my service as an educator, to my writings on ethics, and ultimately to the development of the Collaborative Holistic Defense Investigation (CHDI) doctrine.
The investigation itself eventually became another closed file. The lessons it taught me never did.
“Some careers are shaped by individual cases. Mine was shaped by something even more powerful: the realization that criminal defense investigation needed a better way. Before I could build new methods, however, I first had to understand why the existing system so often failed those it was designed to protect.”
-William A. Monroe, CCDI
