Inside the Glitter LAB

How the tiniest trace of red shimmer helped solve one of California's most brutal crimes.

- JACQUELINE DETWILER-GEORGE

Megan Barroso was looking forward to her Fourth of July plans in 2001. Perhaps because the 20-year-old Moorpark College student had no intention to be alone: She was going to attend a friend's family barbecue in the suburbs northwest of Los Angeles, then watch the fireworks with friends at Silver Strand Beach. The gatherings began to blend into one another, in the way college-age social events do: The friends got milkshakes; they ended up at another party at a friend's house in Thousand Oaks. In celebration of the holiday, somebody sprinkled red glitter over everyone's heads.

Around 2:45 a.m., the group decided to head home. Barroso departed in her Pontiac Sunfire, a rental she was driving while her car was in the shop, and drove about 15 minutes before a friend called to let her know she'd accidentally left with someone else's cellphone in her purse. Barroso turned around to bring the phone back. She never made it.

A little more than an hour later, a security guard found Barroso's rental crashed into a median not far from a California Route 118 exit ramp. He assumed he was looking at a drunk driving accident—it was the early morning after the Fourth of July, after all. But then he noticed the car was still running, its lights and windshield wipers on, with five bullet holes in the windshield, hood, and driver's side door. Blood stained the seat, steering wheel, and an abandoned purse. A single flip-flop lay in the street.

Megan Barroso was gone.

SIMI VALLEY, THE tranquil suburb near where Barroso's car was found, is the kind of place you might grow up in a gated community, hiking and visiting Six Flags Magic Mountain on the weekends. It's known for being home to a sizable community of retired and active police, and in 1998 it was named the “Safest Large City in the United States” based on FBI crime statistics.