Operation Cock Block tries to protect women's hearts and pocketbooks from this crooked Casanova

Bill says he didn't feel he had to tell Spine One about his record. Most background checks only ask whether a person has been convicted of a crime in the past ten years, and his convictions are now older than that. He also says he's not currently working. "I don't have to," he explains. "I come from an incredibly affluent family."

His family, however, hasn't stepped forward to help pay the restitution he owes. Barber says he and White have tried to go after the money in Bill's trust fund and in his mysterious British bank account, but to no avail. "We found out most of them never existed or weren't subject to our reach," Barber says of the accounts. Bill's father has also been unwilling to contribute, he says.

A picture from Bill's Match.com profile.

Bill and Allison on Valentine's Day 2008.

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• Jamie White
• Poole
• Bill Sullivan
• Criminal Sentencing and Punishment
• Crime and Law

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The state Department of Corrections hasn't helped either. Parolees who owe restitution are required to pay it, provided they can, says David Michaud, chairman of the state parole board. But Michaud couldn't talk about Bill's case specifically; Bill was discharged from parole on December 27, 2009, and DOC has since shredded his file.

Any unpaid restitution would have been turned over to the state's collection agency, which is housed within the Department of Personnel and Administration. Department spokeswoman Julie Postlethwait says she can't comment, either; per federal law, debts — from library fines to criminal restitution — aren't public information.

But by Barber's calculations, with 8 percent interest compounding annually, Bill now owes White close to $4 million. White, a self-described optimist who now runs a non-profit organization out of his Denver home that promotes short films, is hopeful that the money will be paid back, but he's not holding his breath.

"If they refuse to pay and you can't find any assets, you can't collect," Barber says. As for Bill, "from what we could tell, he has little or no equity in the house he's living in." And the cars? The Mercedes? "If someone drives a nice Mercedes-Benz but it's leased, he has no equity."

Bill is offended by suggestions that he lives lavishly. "I get why people would say that, but I drive what I drive," he says, referring to his Mercedes. "It's a car." And his $342,000 home? "I live in a modest house," he says. "It's a patio home, not a castle."

Dennis Carter, a friend of Bill's for ten years, agrees. "The fact that he has assets and [that his creditors] can't go after them doesn't mean he has to sell those assets," he says. "How he paid for them is his business and nobody else's business. You can't fault a guy for being a smart businessman."

Carter also thinks the women who spoke to Westword did so out of spite. "These women are envious and jealous and bitter," he says. "You have a bunch of women who conspired to do harm to Bill Sullivan. Bill Sullivan is a good guy."

Jacqueline, an ex-girlfriend of Bill's, thinks so, too. She agreed to talk to Westword after Bill asked her to, provided that her last name wasn't printed.

Jacqueline grew up with Bill in Aspen and says they began to date after reconnecting through work about a year and a half ago. They recently broke up, however: She wants to start a family, while Bill, who has no children, isn't interested. But Jacqueline says Bill was a good boyfriend. Though she says she knows that Bill struggles with cheating in relationships, she thinks everyone deserves a second chance.

"He's a fun and great person to be around," she says. "He's adventurous, loving. He'd probably do anything for me if I asked him. And I probably would for him."

At Bill's sentencing hearing in 2000, his psychologist, Poole, painted a different picture. He called Bill "dishonest" and "insecure," and told the court that he'd diagnosed Bill with narcissistic personality disorder. Poole attributed it to Bill's childhood: He was a rich boy raised by an alcoholic father and a stepmother "who was only partially involved." Money and status, he said, took the place of parenting.

"So he's been doing this since he was a boy," Poole explained, "trying to establish security with people just by looking better, achieving and spending a lot of money."

Poole declines to discuss Bill or his diagnosis with Westword. But he does offer some insight. Narcissists, he says, feel entitled, like they shouldn't have to work for their rewards. Sometimes they get what they want, but often at the expense of others. "They can be really charming," he says. "People can get drawn in and think they're being treated so well, so specially. Then the whole thing can turn on a dime if you're not gratifying enough, or if they just get bored of you."

Narcissists have no remorse, Poole says. "They don't feel they need to adhere to the social contract," he says. "If you loan your lawnmower to a narcissistic person, it might come back broken and they wouldn't care."

Bill denies being a narcissist and shrugs off the subject of remorse. "They say I owe it, so I owe it," he says of the restitution. "Am I sorry or not? That's irrelevant."