LAS VEGAS (KTNV) — October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month — a time to spotlight an issue often cast in shadow due to shame and fear.
This story is the first of a multi-part series honoring domestic violence victims and survivors here in Las Vegas by sharing their stories and ensuring their voices are heard.
We're taking a deep dive into what these women who found the strength to flee their abusers encountered when they sought shelter and safety in our community.
Lauren, MJ, April and Natasha are among 17 people who've come forward to 13 Investigates.
"Women like us need help," Lauren said. "We need stability. We need support. We need direction."
Those are all things they thought they'd find at SafeNest, Nevada's largest domestic violence shelter.
"We come to SafeNest to feel like we're safe, but instead, we're in danger," April told 13 Investigates.
They all say they were beaten down and forced to endure an unhealthy, unstable, unsafe environment.
"I never felt safe there," said MJ. "I felt more traumatized and more scared than when I was with the guy that abused me."
The women and children we spoke to were at SafeNest in varying stages from fall 2023 through summer 2024. They describe frequent fights between residents and an environment plagued by drugs, weapons, theft and filth.
"I feel like it's 'Hunger Games' there," said Natasha. "You have to basically fight to survive in there. It's horrible."
One woman, who told us she was a sexual assault victim and did not want to appear on camera, sent us photos and emails she shared with SafeNest staff and contacts within Clark County and the court.
In addition to dirty living conditions, the photos show a knife left lying on a toilet tank and drug paraphernalia on a baby changing table.
"It was not surprising to hear those complaints," said SafeNest CEO Liz Ortenburger. "It wasn't surprising because what we run is called a low-barrier shelter with folks that are fleeing lethal situations of domestic violence. And so that creates an environment that can sometimes be very difficult to navigate, which is why we have staff on-site 24/7."
A low-barrier shelter is one with minimal requirements for entry, reducing obstacles that typically prevent people from accessing shelter services. But that's not to be confused with requirements the shelter has to meet to receive government funding.
"Their mission statement is to empower, to protect, to support and to embrace the women and the children," Natasha said. "And now they have men there, and that's not what happened."
"When I asked why are we allowing men in here, they said 'We can't discriminate,'" Lauren said.
Ortenburger understands it may be uncomfortable.
"We do have male victims in shelter. We do our best in a communal living environment to create that space that's comfortable for everybody," Ortenburger said. "It is a difficult situation, and it is a change in some of the grant funding requirements around how shelters operate."
April took live photos in May of what she and multiple others say was a male client sexually assaulting an intoxicated female client.
"All these alarm bells are ringing off in my head looking at this girl — like, she's helpless. She's not even conscious; she's not even speaking or responsive," April said.
With proof on her phone, she ran to get the staff, who she says moved the intoxicated woman to another room.
"That's probably one of the scarier things that was brought to our attention, and I don't know if it was brought to yours," I told Ortenburger.
"I have no way to comment on something I haven't seen," she replied.
"Do you want me to show you?" I asked.
"I'm very concerned about videos being shared (showing our) staff — with the shelter location, with all those kinds of things," Ortenburger said. "So no, not at this time."
Ortenburger didn't look at any of the photos or videos residents shared with us, emphasizing the need to protect client privacy. That's the reason we've blurred all faces in the videos taken inside the shelter that we're using in our reporting.
But clients like April say if they don't get proof, they won't be believed.
"They never believe me when I tell people stuff because (of) the way my nerves are — and I do have a brain injury — and how I talk," April said. "But I saw what I saw, and I took pictures, and I showed the staff."
Natasha and April both shared videos of clients fighting, saying there were frequent outbreaks of violence inside the place that's supposed to shelter you from just that.
Weapons are another issue.
"A lady brandished a knife at me, and I was scared that she might stab me in my sleep," said Natasha. "I was sleeping (in the bunk bed) above her."
Natasha photographed a butcher knife in someone's suitcase, so I asked Ortenburger about it.
"We have not had an issue with weapons on property being used," Ortenburger said.
But police reports 13 Investigates obtained through a public records request say something different.
From January through mid-August of this year, Las Vegas Metropolitan Police received 89 calls for service at SafeNest, meaning Metro was at the shelter nearly every other day responding to reports of battery, assault, fights, theft, child abuse and wanted suspects.
Just six days into 2024, police arrested a SafeNest client who reportedly pistol-whipped another resident. The police report shows the gun — which turned out to be a BB gun, but is still considered a firearm — was concealed in the assailant's bra, along with pepper spray and a pocket knife.
"They had basically created an environment that condoned bullying and condoned gang-type behavior by not responding and not addressing safety concerns when they were initially brought up," April said.
Ortenburger says they rely heavily on a partnership with Metro, within the confines of protecting client confidentiality. But 13 Investigates discovered that strict adherence to a privacy policy has interfered with police work.
Reports we reviewed show at least three occasions where police responding to reports of assault and battery inside the shelter were unable to get identifying information about suspects or see surveillance video because SafeNest staff refused to provide it without a subpoena.
"It's complete mayhem," said April. "The staff are telling the clients that they basically have to do all the policing and making reports and document incidents."
In another case, SafeNest staff would not give information about a suspect, so a client stepped in and gave it to police.
And in a third incident, staff was the one who alerted Metro. In that case, they did provide the information requested. That's all to say — rules appear to be applied differently depending on the scenario.
"If they don't see it, it never happened. That's pretty much how they handle things," Natasha said.
That contention is also supported in police records, including a child abuse report from August. According to that report, the responding officer asked staff "if there had been previous accusations and she stated multiple other tenants have alleged child abuse, but nothing was witnessed by the staff."
Given that it's noted in the arrest report, and Child Protective Services was called in, I pressed SafeNest on this. All they would say is that they "follow all mandated reporter responsibilities."
"They should be ashamed of themselves," MJ said.
"Nobody helps. Nobody cares," Natasha said.
As for April, "They actually destroyed my spirit and my will to move forward from my abuse situation."
"You call it SafeNest, but we're not safe," Lauren said.
SafeNest told me in an email that while police reports can provide insight, the situations involved are often much more complicated.
They declined to comment on what any individual told us, saying to do so would violate privacy and could jeopardize the safety of current clients.
But the violence at SafeNest is just the beginning of what our investigation uncovered. As our coverage continues on Monday, Oct. 28 we'll look at what the women say are squalid living conditions inside the shelter.