On the afternoon of **November 13th, 2019**, Officer Landon of El Paso County, Colorado, conducts a welfare check at a daycare center after receiving a tip about its owner, **Carla Marie Faith**.
Carla is allegedly taking in more children than allowed by her license and hiding them.
The licensing officer tries to contact Carla but is told that no children are present that day.
However, parents have requested a welfare check on a child who was dropped off at the center that very morning.
As Officer Landon and the licensing officer approach the property, they are unprepared for the shocking discovery that awaits them inside.

“I’m calling my sergeant. This is weird. I have a really bad feeling about what’s going on here,” Landon says.
The first officer on scene at the **Play Mountain Place** daycare meets with two licensing officials.
Carla has told them that she has no children on the property that day.
Little does she know, the supervisor has already spoken to a mother who confirmed she dropped off her toddler at the residence that morning.
The officer must now puzzle out the truth, unaware of just how many secrets Carla may be hiding.

The following footage had never been seen before.
From the front of the house, nothing is visible.
If children are inside, they would likely be in one of the closed rooms.
The officials discuss having the mother come to the property to try to pick up her child, and she agrees.
“As a mom, I would never…” one of them mutters, sensing that something is very wrong.

The officers note that CSPD wasn’t actually on scene earlier, even though Carla claimed otherwise.
They suspect the children might be alone in the house.
They haven’t seen anyone else on the property and believe Carla left out the back.
Yet the parent is convinced that her child is still there.
The missing child was born in 2017—only a toddler, too young to come to the door on their own.

At the time of the video, Carla’s license allows **no more than two children under the age of two** in her care, with a maximum capacity of **six children total** at this location.
Right now, officers don’t know if anyone is actually inside.
All they can hear is a movie playing somewhere in the house.
One of them pauses and listens.
“I hear a kid,” she says.

They mention that Carla also owns another home where she was allegedly doing **unlicensed care**.
They have researched that location and found no evidence she actually lives there.
Licensing is in the process of citing her for that violation.
This case, however, is far more serious.
Another parent has filed a complaint about the unlicensed location, but complaints can be made anonymously, complicating things.

Despite the troubling allegations, the officer is not authorized to enter the residence without probable cause.
Mere suspicion is not enough at the moment.
“So how are parents supposed to get their kids?” one of them asks.
They conclude that either Carla took the kids somewhere else, or there are no children there and that’s why she’s so nervous and insistent she has an appointment.
“There’s a camera right there, so they see I’m here,” the officer notes, looking up at the property’s security system.

The supervisor obtains Carla’s cell phone number, but once again, no one answers.
They decide to try something more creative: have the child’s mother call Carla, pretend she’s ready to pick up her child, and ask where the child is.
The mother agrees to call and report back with Carla’s response.
“She should probably be ready to never bring her kid here again,” the supervisor remarks.
The mother agrees, saying she will never return after this.

The licensing official explains that several strange things have happened leading up to this moment.
Earlier, the parent went up to the gate to get her child.
Carla called the parent on the phone and told her to leave, then never returned the child.
The parent had intended to pick up her child at the house, but Carla persuaded her to go away.

The official is relieved she went back down there and saw Carla standing out back being picked up by a car.
Carla avoided getting into the Jeep she had previously claimed to drive, instead climbing into a different vehicle.
“She lies,” the official says flatly.
Carla has been providing false and misleading information, grounds for adverse licensing action by itself.
“But that’s not the concern at this point,” she adds. “Where are the children?”

“If I drop my kid off somewhere, I expect them to remain at that place, not carted back and forth,” the official says.
Moments later, a **black Camaro** is seen driving past the house, though the officer initially misidentifies it as a Mustang.
“Can you read the plate from here?” the officer asks, squinting.
She starts walking around the block to intercept the car in the alley behind the property.
She sees Carla re-enter the property.

“Hi sir, would you mind chatting with me for a second?” she asks a man who steps out of the Camaro.
He is **Mark Spain**, who identifies himself as Carla’s employee.
“Did you come pick her up just now?” the officer asks.
“Yeah, I just dropped her off,” he replies.
“Where are the kids?” she presses.

“I don’t think she has any right now,” Mark says.
The officer replies that Carla is supposed to have at least one child present and she needs to check on that child.
Mark claims he didn’t know, saying he just picked Carla up, went to the bank, and came back.
When asked where he believes the children are, he gives the same address they are already at.
At this point, the officer reassures him he’s not in trouble; she’s just trying to figure out what’s going on.

She asks Mark if Carla is known to do “some hinky things.”
“Not really,” he answers.
The officer’s frustration grows: “Where the hell are these kids is my problem.”
She explains that there have been several reports from parents who are concerned they dropped their kids off and the kids are not where they’re supposed to be.
“If I was a parent, I’d be pretty upset about that too,” Mark agrees.

The officer tells Mark he seems uninvolved—he’s just doing Carla a favor by driving her around.
She warns him that if Carla is leaving kids alone, that is a serious problem.
“We’re going to continue to investigate this,” she says, asking him not to call Carla until they can speak with her in person.
After speaking with Mark, the officer moves to the rear entrance of the property.
She calls for backup, asking another officer to respond and help secure the scene.

“I’m going to go back to the front of the house. If you could go to the alley on the north side,” she instructs her partner.
She notes that a woman in a gray shirt and black pants, one of the licensing officials, is keeping watch on the back.
Another official is at the front.
“I hate leaving any of these ladies by themselves with all of this stuff,” she says.
Her partner is five minutes out.

Finally, a mother arrives, expecting to pick up her child.
“She hasn’t answered for us so far, so we’ll see,” the officer says.
“Hi buddy,” the mother greets her child’s usual pickup point, unaware of the chaos unfolding.
The officer approaches a woman at the gate.
“Hey, how are you?” the officer asks. “Good. I need to talk with you.”

The woman identifies herself as **Chrissy**.
The officer asks, “Do you work for the facility?”
“No, I don’t work here. I’m a friend,” Chrissy replies.
She mentions that Carla is right over there.
The officer asks for identification and says she also needs to speak with Carla.

Carla appears and greets the officer.
“I am super—well, I was knocking on the front door forever. Why didn’t you answer?” the officer asks.
Carla claims she wasn’t hearing the intercom, saying it was turned off and she didn’t know they were calling.
The officer decides to go check where Carla says the children are and how many kids she has.
Carla’s evasive answers do little to calm the officer’s concerns.

The officer explains she just wants to figure out what’s going on.
Carla offers, “You can ask me questions. I can answer them. Do you want some water or anything?”
The officer declines politely.
She explains that they have concerns about the children’s welfare.
They knocked, heard music playing, saw Carla hopping fences, and couldn’t make sense of her behavior.

“Can you kind of give me some idea of what’s going on?” the officer asks.
Carla replies that she doesn’t know how to help but is willing to answer questions.
When the officer asks, “Do you want to come in?” Carla agrees.
The officer says she wants to check the house and see if there are any other children.
“If you’re just being honest with me, if you have other kids, tell me you have other kids. Then no one worries,” she says plainly.

Carla’s property has two houses—one where she runs the daycare and another she claims is rented out.
As Officer Landon insists on searching the second house, Carla and Chrissy try to contact the supposed tenant for permission.
“I don’t know if the tenant is there or not, so we’re trying to reach her,” Carla says.
“You understand I’m not with licensing; I don’t care about that,” the officer replies. “I just care if kids are okay.”
Carla insists they’re trying to get the tenant’s permission so the officer can enter.

Carla says she owns the entire property but rents part of it out.
The officer asks again who Chrissy is.
“She’s a friend,” Carla says, insisting Chrissy is not an employee.
Carla admits she’d just “ducked out to have some lunch.”
The officer notes that licensing may have issues with that, but she is there for entirely different reasons.

In the meantime, the officer casually looks around the main house.
“It’s a cute place,” she remarks.
“How many kids do you usually have?” she asks, trying to gauge the scale.
They circle back to the second house as Carla claims the tenant is on her way.
The officer remains focused: “Once we can figure out that there are no other kiddos being in that house, we can be done.”

The officer asks if any doors are unlocked.
Carla says she thinks one is locked, and the others too.
“In that case, I’m going to check around,” the officer says, heading toward the back.
“931, we’re in the backyard here,” she radios.
She notices what looks like a closet or crawlspace—just blankets and stuff—but something feels off.

“Is this a basement?” the officer asks.
“Do you have a basement?”
“No,” Carla replies quickly.
The officer pushes a pile of blankets aside.
Underneath, she finds something unexpected.

There is a floor panel and a noticeable depression.
She moves more blankets and sees **a large pile of children’s backpacks**.
“Whose backpacks are these?” the officer asks.
“We, um, are taking them and getting them cleaned for the soccer team,” Carla stammers.
“That doesn’t sound very likely,” the officer responds.

As the officer becomes more confrontational, Carla begins to fumble.
“If I call these parents, where are they going to say their kids are right now?” the officer demands.
“Um… I don’t know,” Carla replies.
The officer steps aside to take down information from the backpacks.
“She’s hiding those backpacks from me like a cat on a hot tin roof,” the officer says quietly.

The backpacks all have numbers or names on them, suggesting assigned belongings.
“Where are these kids?” the officer mutters.
She also notes there are diaper bags and baby items, yet no children.
She hears a movie or children’s music playing faintly from somewhere below.
“I’m calling my sergeant. This is weird,” she repeats.

While Officer Landon continues searching, Officer Parker remains outside, keeping watch over Carla and Chrissy.
He makes sure neither of them wanders off.
Inside, Landon tries calling more parents using phone numbers found in the children’s bags.
Each unanswered call adds to the urgency of the situation.
What the officers don’t realize yet is that certain information is being secretly exchanged behind their backs.

Carla and Chrissy appear nervous, asking where things stand and how long they’ll have to remain.
“I don’t know, I just got here,” Parker tells them. “I haven’t spoken with the other officer yet.”
He emphasizes he can’t give an accurate answer until he has more information.
A moment later, Landon calls him back to the rear of the property.
She has discovered more unsettling evidence that the children may be hidden somewhere inside.

“Do you think she’s more likely to come back here or go to the front?” Parker asks Landon.
They coordinate positions: Landon will search the front, Parker will cover the alley and back.
Then, from inside, Landon hears something.
She moves toward a vent and listens.
Children’s music is playing from somewhere below floor level.

Meanwhile, Parker, outside with Carla, challenges her again.
“How do we get into the basement?” he asks.
“There is no basement,” Carla insists. “I am so sorry, but there’s just not.”
“So where is the music coming from?” he presses.
“I don’t know,” she repeats.

Parker’s patience wears thin.
“I’m going to put you in handcuffs if you stop following my instructions,” he warns.
He orders Carla to sit near the end of the yard.
“You seem very nervous, you’re wandering around, not paying attention to what I’m telling you,” he says.
Carla apologizes weakly.

A licensing official mentions there are windows under the deck that appear to lead downstairs.
The officer notes blinds covering these windows—odd for what is supposedly a non-existent basement.
As soon as they mention the basement, the children’s music suddenly shuts off.
“You don’t put blinds on a crawlspace,” one official mutters.
The timing makes everything seem even more suspicious.

The officer asks if there’s access under the deck.
The official explains that on the far side of the house, under the deck, there may be an opening.
Officer Landon moves to check that area.
Carla continues to insist there is no basement, no children, and that the kids are “at the park.”
Landon responds bluntly: “If there’s kids downstairs, we can deal with that—but you’ve got to tell me how to get to them.”

“I don’t know why you’re hearing music, and I’m really sorry,” Carla insists.
She repeats that the kids are at the park and suggests the officers can go there if they want to see them.
“But why am I hearing music from down there?” Landon persists.
“And as soon as we mention it, you text somebody and it shuts off. That’s weird.”
Carla denies texting to shut off the music, though the timing says otherwise.

At this point, Landon calls her sergeant again.
“I’m searching the house and I can hear music coming from the basement—children’s music,” she explains.
“I can’t figure out how to get down there, but this is strange enough that it’s got those little hairs rolling.”
She notes she can hear the music coming through a vent, but cannot see any visible access point.
Sergeant authorizes continued investigation.

Meanwhile, Parker doubles down outside.
“Where are your kids?” he asks Carla again.
“They’re at the park,” she repeats stubbornly.
Just then, a faint sound breaks through.
“Do you hear that kid crying?” Parker asks.

The sound of a child crying seems to come from behind him, somewhere in or under the house.
“At this point, we’re looking for kids,” Parker says.
“We’re concerned for the welfare of kids, and until we find those kids, we’re here for exigent circumstances.”
He clearly states that they now have sufficient cause to search.
“If you want us out of here, tell us where that basement is. We heard a kid crying.”

He warns Carla that the situation is rapidly escalating.
“What started small is going to get bigger and bigger until you tell us where those kids are,” he says.
Carla continues to maintain that the children are at the park.
The officers know she is lying.
They return to searching the structure with renewed urgency.

Inside, Officer Landon continues feeling walls, checking vents, and exploring closets.
Then, Officer Parker notices something odd at floor level near a closet area.
He moves some items aside and discovers a concealed door or hatch.
“Isaac!” he calls to Landon.
“Turns out there is a basement.”

Together, they open the hatch and descend into a hidden room.
The odor hits them first—the overwhelming smell of soiled diapers and stale air.
They are in a cramped, underground space.
Inside, a group of terrified, very young children stare back at them.
There are **about 20–25 children** crowded into this secret basement.

“Who are you?” Landon demands, spotting an adult woman among the children.
“Who are you, and why are you hiding all these kids down here?”
The woman is **Caitlyn (Katie) Nelson**, one of Carla’s employees.
Landon orders her to stand up and step away from the children.
“Hi babies, it’s okay,” Landon says gently to the kids. “You need to come here now, both of you,” she calls to the other officers.

“You guys need to come here now,” Landon repeats urgently over the radio.
Both licensing officials rush to the hatch, shocked by the number of children hidden below.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but this is not okay,” Landon says.
She pats Katie down for weapons and confirms she’s disarmed.
Katie looks overwhelmed and claims ignorance.

“You’re looking at an obstruction charge at the minimum,” Landon tells her.
She states that law enforcement officers were in the house, clearly heard knocking and calling, and that Katie stayed hidden with the children.
“You heard me knocking before, you heard me on the phone,” Landon says.
She knows Carla texted Katie and told her to keep the kids quiet.
“You’re watching the kids now, so I’m not going to ask you to move them yet. I need a list of all these parents.”

Katie claims she doesn’t know all the parents’ names, saying she’s “just been babysitting.”
When asked how long she’s been there, she replies, “Maybe a couple of months.”
Landon turns on the lights and encourages the children to come out of the cramped space.
“How long have you guys been down here?” she asks gently.
“Not very long,” one child says, but the timeline is unclear.

Later, an affidavit for **Christina “Chrissy” Swager** states that Carla told them earlier that day to take all the children inside to the basement.
It is therefore likely the children were down there longer than the “maybe an hour” Katie suggests.
It appears all kids had been dropped off as usual that morning, and when licensing and police arrived, Carla and her staff panicked.
Their solution was to **hide the children in the basement**.
Now the officers focus on reuniting them with their parents.

“If you will help me get out of handcuffs, I will get all of these parents here to pick up these kids, okay?” Carla pleads upstairs.
“We can handcuff you, but if anything squirrely happens, that’s not going to be safe,” the officer responds.
Carla begs to be involved in contacting the parents, claiming she wants to “take care of our babies.”
“We’re going to get the parents on the way,” Landon says firmly. “I don’t know that you guys are fit to take care of babies because you hid them in a basement.”

Carla argues that she and her staff can change diapers and care for the children until parents arrive.
Landon refuses to let Carla control the situation.
“There are two ladies here,” Carla insists, pointing to the licensing officials.
“They can help.”
Landon bluntly reminds her that these officials don’t know Carla’s staff and that trust has already been shattered.

“I get it,” Landon tells Carla.
“I get how you feel about me. But listen: those three ladies can take care of those little guys, and I can get their parents on the phone. We can get them out the door to where they belong.”
“Can we work as a team to do that?” Carla asks desperately.
Landon isn’t interested in teaming up.
She knows Carla is acting to protect herself, not the children.

“Why are we here?” Landon asks pointedly.
“How did we get to this point that you’re hiding kids in a basement and you’re not being honest with me?”
She tells Carla that if the problem were simply too many children at once, that wouldn’t be a crime by itself.
“But when you’re preventing me from doing my job and creating physical obstacles, that’s when I care,” she says.
Carla finally admits, “I did all of that and I’m guilty of all of that.”

Landon instructs **Katie** to stand up so she can be detained.
Katie’s full name and background will soon come to light.
It turns out she has a **long criminal record**.
In fact, there was an active warrant out for her at the time of this incident.
Now, with the children discovered and the adults identified, the focus shifts to charging those responsible and ensuring the kids’ safety.

As parents receive calls to pick up their children, Carla has news to share.
“If you’re unable to come quickly, don’t worry, just come when you can,” she tells them.
“They’re closing the business down.”
Later interviews with parents describe more horrors: children suffering from nightmares, being afraid of the dark, and showing signs of trauma.
Some children struggled to sleep alone after being confined in the hidden basement.

**Legal outcomes** reveal the full consequence of Carla’s actions.
**Carla Marie Faith** was found guilty of **26 counts of child abuse without injury**, one **felony count of attempting to influence a public servant**, and one **misdemeanor count of obstructing a peace officer**.
She was sentenced to **6 years in prison** and is currently **eligible for parole**, with a hearing set for **August 2025**.

**Caitlyn “Katie” Nelson** pled guilty to **26 counts of child abuse without injury** and one **felony count of possession of controlled substances**.
She failed to appear for her court date, something she has done in past cases.
Katie was sentenced to **365 days in jail**, with credit for **135 days** served, and **four years of probation**.
Her probation requires her to complete a substance use evaluation and treatment, monitored sobriety, a child abuse evaluation with treatment, and **200 hours of community service**.

**Christina “Chrissy” Swager** had lied to police earlier, claiming to be just a friend.
She was actually an employee at Carla’s daycare center.
Chrissy was convicted of **26 counts of child abuse without injury**, a **felony count of attempting to influence a public servant**, and a **misdemeanor charge of obstructing a peace officer**.
She was sentenced to **2½ years in prison** with an additional **3 years of parole**, which she is currently serving.

Another employee, **Valerie Fresquez**, pled guilty to **26 counts of child abuse without injury** as well.
She took a plea deal requiring her to testify against her former colleagues.
Valerie received a **2‑year deferred sentence** in March 2021.
She completed it in March 2023, allowing her to withdraw the guilty plea and have all charges **dismissed**.

What began as a routine licensing check turned into the discovery of **25 hidden children** in a secret basement.
The officers’ persistence, suspicion, and refusal to accept easy answers ultimately uncovered the truth.
The case stands as a chilling reminder of how vulnerable children can be—even in places that claim to protect them.
And how crucial it is for both parents and authorities to question what they cannot see.