Jean Booth lost approximately $90,000 to an online romance scam after developing a relationship with a man she met on a dating app. The scam began in January 2025, shortly after Booth was laid off from her government job.

Booth, who described herself as a believer in the honesty of others, met the man, who identified himself as Donnie, on Match.com. He presented himself as Daniel Rodriguez Fanelli, a younger, widowed paratrooper with a young daughter named Trixie. Their online communication quickly progressed from friendly texts to flirtatious conversations, and Booth found herself organizing her life around their exchanges, dreaming of a future together.

Despite warnings from friends and family, and even noticing inconsistencies, Booth continued the relationship. She sent Donnie money for various fabricated emergencies, including threats from his daughter's nanny and school fees for Trixie. At one point, she even got a tattoo of a parachute with a heart, symbolizing Donnie.

By mid-March, Donnie claimed he was due to return to the U.S. soon. Booth’s friends and sisters urged her to stop contact, pointing out classic scammer tactics, but she defended Donnie, telling him, "I choose you." Shortly after, Donnie requested more money for maintenance on a house he claimed they would share.

When Donnie failed to arrive as promised on April 1, he resurfaced with a new story: he had been incarcerated after an altercation with his officer and needed money for medicine and food. By this point, Booth had sent him $27,000.

In late April, Booth discovered evidence suggesting Donnie was not who he claimed to be. A friend she contacted on Instagram revealed that Donnie's photos had been used extensively and that he might be a bot. Reverse image searches later linked Donnie's photos to a wedding announcement online, revealing he was likely using stolen images. When confronted, Donnie dismissed it as a misunderstanding and suggested it was suspicious that these photos were appearing online.

Despite her suspicions, Booth continued to send money, driven by the prospect of homelessness and her emotional investment. She sent nearly $9,000 for paperwork to facilitate his return home. Two days later, she drove to Frederick, Maryland, using a mailing address Donnie had previously provided for a cash wire transfer. There, she met another woman, Elizabeth, who had also been in a relationship with Donnie for nearly a year and had sent him money.

Together, Booth and Elizabeth confronted Donnie via text, sending him a selfie with a middle finger gesture. Elizabeth revealed that Donnie had been instructing her to deposit money, including $11,500 from Booth, into the nanny's account. Their communication ended when Elizabeth received a scam call, changing her phone number.

In May, Booth enrolled in a support group for romance scam victims. Despite this, she continued to communicate with Donnie, who continued to fabricate reasons for not returning, including being waylaid in Syria and losing his passport in Turkey. She sent him an additional $5,000, money she needed for rent, and became homeless.

Over 237 days and through 10,449 messages, Booth lost more than $90,000. She reported him to local police, but local investigators indicated they would look into the case without providing further details. Following this experience, Booth reconnected with a man named Clin online, who also began asking for money, leading her to send him $400 in October.