Karma Box, CARES Campus, and the Phone They Didn’t Want to Give Back to a Victim

How a Domestic Violence Case Exposed a Bigger Problem in Washoe County’s Homeless System, the CARES Campus and Karma Box.

On its face, it looked like a domestic violence case with a messy trail of texts, a work backpack, and a phone. But when the texts started stacking up, the story grew into something larger, something involving a county-funded nonprofit, political favoritism, and a lack of oversight inside Washoe County’s homelessness system.

This is not just about one family’s crisis. It’s about how Karma Box, the nonprofit operating the intake crew at the CARES Campus, handles sensitive information, property, staff conduct, and victims of abuse, all while receiving public money and political protection.

And how this entire system was built with the help of Reno City Councilmember and attorney Devon Reese, who sits on the Community Homeless Advisory Board.

The CARES Campus: When Public Relations Becomes Public Policy

The Setup: A Violent Incident, an Arrest, and a Work Phone That Controlled Everything

Last week, Marissa Grimsley contacted Grant Denton, founder of Karma Box, to return her husband Matthew Grimsley’s work property after he was arrested for domestic battery against her for the third time.

“This is Mathew’s 3rd DV charge, and this is while he is sober, which makes it even scarier. He hasn’t changed. Karma Box is hiring these violent individuals who are able to lie to the community and be around these very sensitive people. It’s scary!” Marrissa told me.

The items included:

• Karma Box backpack

• A work laptop

• Gift cards

• A company-issued phone

The phone was the key. According to her messages, Matthew had been controlling her phone, her children’s devices, and their iCloud account using his work phone. She needed temporary access to the phone to remove parental controls, unlink shared accounts, and stop him from tracking their devices.

Her texts to Grant and others were polite and straightforward:

“I have some stuff here that Karma Box may need back... Unfortunately, I do not have a way to drop it off, but I want to do the right thing… If you would like to work out a time to grab it, I would appreciate that.”

Grant responded, cooperatively at first:

“Sure, what would be a good time tomorrow to come pick it up?”

What happened next is where the story shifts from a domestic dispute into a public integrity problem.

The Phone Changes Hands — and the Story Changes With It

When Marissa reached out to Cody, a Karma Box employee and friend of Matthew, she knew that he had the phone, had gone through it, and he was supposed to bring it to her.

“I saw the location of the phone move from the jail to another address when I was trying to delete my Life 360 account that was connected to his work phone. I had a good feeling it was Cody’s address since he also had our van keys that were picked up from the jail. I knew he was in the phone because he got on Mathew’s banking app and sent himself the rest of Mathew’s money and he froze Mathew’s bank cards so who knows what else he was doing in that phone and what else Mathew had him delete from the phone.” Marrissa told me.

Cody chose to protect Karma Box

“Hey, I do not have the phone. It is Karma Box property. It was turned into leadership.”

Cody’s messages contradicted earlier details, and there was no consistent explanation of who had custody of the phone at what time.

This matters for a simple reason.

Chain of custody is not optional when you’re a government contractor handling sensitive information.

Eventually, Linda from Karma Box leadership texted Marissa:

“I have possession of Mat’s work phone… after connecting with our leadership team, we’ll be moving forward with factory resetting the device.”

Factory resetting — after being told the phone controlled a victim’s and children’s devices.

Factory resetting — even though it could destroy evidence relevant to a domestic violence case.

Factory resetting — while giving Marissa instructions that made no sense, such as “contact the cell phone company” to remove device-management controls.

This was not ignorance. This was indifference.

Marissa’s reply was understated but accurate:

“You guys are something else.”

Why This Matters: Karma Box Isn’t Just Any Organization

Karma Box is not a private business operating in a vacuum.

It is a county contractor with a politically facilitated role in operating the intake crew at the CARES Campus, called Safe Camp — the most critical interface between the public and the region’s homelessness system.

Their staff interacts daily with:

• Unsheltered individuals

• Personal belongings

• Sensitive information

• Medical issues

• Mental health crises

• Law enforcement referrals

This requires professionalism, training, and transparency.

The text messages show the opposite.

The Political Backstory: How Karma Box Got Its Position

Multiple county and city insiders have confirmed that Devon Reese — a member of the Reno City Council and the Community Homeless Advisory Board — played an active role in helping Karma Box secure its place in the CARES Campus structure.

Devon Reese promoted Grant Deneton and Karma Box as a “lived experience” success story and advocated for them during contract discussions. He used his political capital to elevate the organization and cement its credibility, according to sources.

And now the organization he helped install is:

• mishandling property,

• contradicting itself in writing,

• interfering with a domestic violence victim’s ability to secure her own devices, and

• planning to wipe a phone that may contain evidence.

This raises obvious questions.

Was This Just a Mishandled Phone — or a Culture Problem?

The messaging pattern shows more than a procedural slip:

1. Inconsistent statements

One employee claims he never had the phone, even though he earlier acknowledged going through it.

Leadership gives a different timeline.

Grant Denton stops responding.

2. Mishandling of sensitive property

A work phone circulated through personal hands before “leadership” recovered it.

3. Destruction of potential evidence

Factory resetting a phone involved in a domestic battery case is reckless at best.

4. Indifference to victim safety

They were fully informed why she needed the device — and ignored it.

5. A complete lack of internal policy

From the texts, there appears to be:

• No chain-of-custody rules

• No domestic violence protocols

• No staff training on handling sensitive data

• No supervisory oversight

If this is how they handle a phone, how do they handle the belongings of hundreds of vulnerable people passing through CARES?

Why Is Washoe County Delegating Critical Services to Unregulated Groups With No Oversight?

Karma Box presents itself as a feel-good nonprofit built on recovery and lived experience. That’s fine — until it becomes a substitute for:

• professional standards

• internal controls

• trained supervisors

• accountability

• transparency

Washoe County has given Karma Box significant access to vulnerable populations — without enforcing any of the standards required of a typical behavioral health, social services, or security contractor.

This incident shows why that’s dangerous.

The Pattern: CARES Campus Has Been a Quiet Disaster

The public already knows:

• CARES Campus has suffered from mismanagement.

• County leadership has struggled with oversight.

• Contractors are loosely monitored.

• Services are fragmented across nonprofits with no accountability structure.

Karma Box is another piece of the same puzzle — a politically connected group operating in a space where professionalism should be mandatory, not optional. The county has allowed a soft network of favored nonprofits to run critical systems without adequate controls. And now those gaps are showing up in a domestic violence case that should have been handled with care, not confusion.

Washoe’s Budget Funds Homelessness While Seniors Get the Smallest Slice

This Is Not About One Family — It’s About Public Trust

The real issue is not the relationship drama, the backpack, or even the phone. It is this:

What happens when a government-funded homeless-services provider is willing to mishandle a victim’s safety, destroy potential evidence, and give contradictory statements — and no one is supervising them?

Who trained these employees?

Who holds them accountable?

Who approved these practices?

And why did Washoe County — with millions invested in homelessness — give Karma Box this role without requiring professional standards?

These are public questions because the public is funding the system.

What Happens Next

This story opens several lines of inquiry:

1. Public records requests for the Karma Box contract, evaluations, compliance records, and incident logs.

2. A county-level audit of all contractors at CARES Campus.

3. A review of political involvement in Karma Box’s rise — especially the role of Devon Reese.

4. A review of Karma Box’s HR, training, and property-handling practices.

5. A broader discussion of whether “lived experience nonprofits” are appropriate replacements for professional social services.

Karma Box has positioned itself as a redemption-driven success story. But redemption does not replace policy. And good intentions do not replace standards. If this is how they handle one phone, the public deserves to know how they are handling everything else.