Jones

K
irk West didn’t look like a man trying to slip out of town unnoticed. Dressed in a $350 black-and-gold Versace-style shirt with a dragon perched on a champagne bottle on the back, the six-foot-six entrepreneur carried himself with the same air of confidence he’s projected for years. Yet, as the 58-year-old moved through Nashville International Airport on July 24, his life was about to implode. 

His downfall had begun weeks earlier, triggered by the discovery of an affair. Nancy Jones — the 78-year-old widow of country legend George Jones — threw him out of the contemporary European-style mansion they shared after she suspected him of cheating. The infidelity soon revealed a deeper betrayal: a stockpile of $400,000 in cash and a ledger containing $11.6 million in cryptocurrency missing from her safe, according to police and court records.

The discovery shattered a silver lining that came in the months after Jones’ death at 81 of hypoxic respiratory failure in April 2013. Considered one of country music’s greatest and most influential singers, Jones had dozens of hit songs, including “White Lightning,” “Near You,” with his ex-wife Tammy Wynette, and the heart-rending 1980 classic “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” widely considered one of the greatest country songs of all time.

Yet it was Nancy — Jones’ fourth wife and the June Carter Cash to Jones’ Johnny — who helped salvage his ailing reputation and pulled him out of his decades-long battle with alcohol and drug addiction to preserve and resurrect his legacy. The fiery, Louisiana-born mother was so determined to see Jones through his sobriety that she even sparred with local “cocaine pushers” in Alabama who were keeping Jones hooked on the drug, Jones wrote in his memoir, I Lived to Tell It All. “God put me with him to help him get the devil out of him,” Nancy reflected to The Tennessean in 2015. “God put me there to do a job, and I did it.”

Nancy had been distraught when the honky-tonk crooner died, and cherished what seemed to be a genuine friendship with West in the immediate months after Jones’ death that quickly blossomed into romance. But after 12 years together, Nancy now believes her chance meeting with West in the summer of 2013 wasn’t a coincidence. Instead, she claims, she was deliberately preyed upon.

It was West’s well-established “modus operandi” to use his looks, gentlemanly manners, and veneer of a successful real estate career to exploit “wealthy, potentially vulnerable women,” according to Nancy’s July lawsuit against West to reclaim her missing fortune. (Through her attorney, Nancy declined to be interviewed for this article. “Due to pending proceedings, we can’t comment on the matter at the time,” her attorney Chris Thorsen says in a statement to Rolling Stone.)

Nancy reported the theft to the police. The next day, deputies raced to intercept West at the airport, where he was holding a one-way ticket to the Philippines and accompanied by a woman in her forties, three well-placed sources who requested anonymity due to privacy concerns tell Rolling Stone. He was led away in handcuffs and charged with felony theft. (He has pleaded not guilty and faces between 15 and 60 years in prison if convicted.) 

The arrest made local headlines and on country-music websites for the bizarre situation that seemed like a cross between the scheming TV show Nashville and CNBC’s American Greed. But several people from West’s past tell Rolling Stone they weren’t surprised to learn of Nancy’s ordeal once they heard who was involved.  

“I never trusted him,” an old friend of Nancy’s who knew the couple for more than a decade, tells Rolling Stone. “George had just passed, and all of a sudden this guy shows up hanging around with Nancy; it’s kind of obvious what he was looking for. It seems to me that he was just looking for the widow’s money. But he’s hung around for a long time. I guess he was playing the long game.” 

Over the past two decades, West — whose birth name is Kirk R. Leipzig — has left a trail of broken promises and financial ruin, nearly 10 former associates, ex-girlfriends, and people who knew him tell Rolling Stone. He is linked to a string of civil lawsuits, defaulted bank loans, a federal fraud conviction, and an arrest for violating a restraining order, on top of the recent theft charge. (Rolling Stone reached out to West’s attorney Dana C. McLendon with a detailed list of questions regarding Nancy’s claims, the criminal case, and accusations raised against West in various lawsuits, but the attorney declined to comment. “Neither Mr. West nor I will be making any comments to media at this time,” McLendon wrote in an email.)

The smooth talker has long been accused of convincing people to invest their life savings in his real estate opportunities and promising six-figure returns from flipping homes, only to hoard the profits. He especially targeted single mothers, sources allege, to prey on their vulnerabilities and milk them and their loved ones of cash before moving on to his next target.

“He is a guy that reads obituaries and preys on people,” says one former ex-girlfriend. “And I’m fairly confident that’s how he managed to get in touch with Nancy.”

Auspicious Beginnings

In August 2013, Nancy Jones was in mourning after Jones’ death. Just two weeks before the singer was rushed to the hospital, Jones had taken the stage for what would be his final performance at a packed venue in Knoxville, Tennessee. A signature twinkle in his eye, Jones shifted into showman mode — a persona he first learned busking on the streets of East Texas as a kid. He cracked jokes and rose from his seat to deliver a poignant rendition of “He Stopped Loving Her Today.” Upon his death, country greats including Loretta Lynn, Alan Jackson, Merle Haggard, and Dolly Parton all heralded Jones as a defining voice of country music.

After three decades of marriage, Nancy was now left to oversee Jones’ legacy and manage Country Gold, their nearly 80-acre estate. Loving portraits of the couple graced its walls, a parlor organ sat untouched in a sunny room, and Jones’ fully functioning barber shop lost its lone patron. It all seemed too much to handle alone. “Our once vibrant home now seemed like a museum with George Jones memorabilia all over it,” Nancy wrote in her 2023 memoir, Playin’ Possum: My Memories of George Jones. “Friends stayed in touch and many visited often, but at night, when George and I had often snuggled in bed watching movies, the loneliness grabbed me by the heart and wouldn’t let go.”

As Nancy became serious about selling the home that summer, West pulled up for a tour, accompanied by Britney Spears’ father, Jamie Spears. “I arrived home just as they finished up and were walking through the backyard near the house,” Nancy wrote in her book. “I greeted them cordially and stepped over to shake hands with them.… Then Kirk West, the taller of the two men, smiled and said, ‘I’m a hugger.’ He gave me a great big bear hug.”  

West introduced himself as a real estate investor with a strong track record of delivering sizable returns. Along with some other investors, he said, he was interested in purchasing the storied estate. 

There was a Midwestern charm about the Wisconsin-raised West. He was polite and vocal about his faith in Christ, a trait that appealed to the religious Nancy. Although West didn’t strike a business deal that day, he earned something that would prove vastly more lucrative: Nancy’s trust and friendship. He began texting her, readily offering himself up to the widow, according to the lawsuit, whether she needed guidance or just as an emotional crutch during a difficult time.

But it was West who needed the support. Within a few weeks of their first meeting, according to Nancy’s lawsuit, West confessed he wasn’t the high-flying investor he had pretended to be. He allegedly claimed to be “penniless” and didn’t even have his own home. Not used to being alone in an empty 9,651-square-foot home, Nancy allowed West to move into a separate wing of the house that September. “Our relationship was strictly platonic, at least until Mr. West seduced me,” Nancy wrote in a court-submitted declaration. The following month, they were dating. 

It wasn’t long before people around Nashville learned about West’s relationship with Nancy. He had been spotted cruising around town in one of Jones’ cars — the country star’s infamous nickname “No Show” emblazoned on the license plate. 

A Trove of Lawsuits

Apart from news of his arrest, West keeps a low profile online. His LinkedIn is defunct, he has no obvious business websites, and only scraps of his background are public. What can be pieced together shows a man who reinvented himself repeatedly, leaving wreckage behind each time.

He began as a grocery store manager before recasting himself as a job-placement guru, a pivot that brought him to Nashville in the early 2000s. The business cycled through several names, but the one that stuck was JL Kirk Associates. At different times, West told people the “JL” stood for “Jesus Lord” or “Jesus Loves.”

“More like Jesus laughs,” scoffs Tennessee blogger Katherine Coble, who tried to warn others about West back in 2007. Her husband had been cold-called by the firm with promises of securing a better-paying, executive role at a company — if he paid nearly $5,000 in headhunting fees upfront on a credit card. The intake interview, she wrote in a blog post, felt more like a predatory, emotional beatdown than a helpful consultation.

“I would discourage anyone who stumbles across this entry from even going through the JL Kirk & Associates ‘interview process,’” Coble added. Weeks later, Coble said she received a cease and desist from West’s attorney, demanding the post be removed or face a defamation lawsuit. Undeterred, Coble posted the demand letter in full on her blog. 

The entries drew hundreds of comments, and by year’s end, West quietly shuttered the office, according to an investigation by local news outlet NewsChannel 5. The station reported the Better Business Bureau received “dozens of complaints” from customers who claimed they had paid thousands of dollars each for jobs that never materialized. (The state Attorney General’s Office confirmed to the news station it had been investigating the firm, but no action was ultimately taken.)

By then, West had pivoted full-time. “Kirk Leipzig is turning foreclosed homes into cash,” a glowing 2008 Forbes write-up said. “All it takes is legwork, a line of credit, and a lack of emotion.”

The article painted West as a property shark with “a five-year cash hoard in the bank” and an eye for distressed properties. West boasted about flipping two homes within six weeks, making nearly half a million dollars in profit. The spread became a calling card for West, referring potential investors to the flattering piece as proof of both his trustworthiness and track record. 

But within a few years, lawsuits began stacking up, creating a complicated and extensive trail of court records. Some cases directly name West as the defendant, while others link back to his various LLCs and trust accounts. The lawsuits often contain hundreds of filings, with submissions of deeds, dense real estate contracts, and email correspondence.  

Banks accused West and his various LLCs of defaulting on mortgages. Mercedes-Benz came after him for skipping out on a $33,000 payment. The local paper claimed he stiffed them on advertising payments. His second wife sued him for $25,000 in unpaid child support. And investors alleged he was using their funds to buy properties, make cosmetic renovations, flip them fast, and pocket everything without even letting them know the house had sold. At least two lawsuits labeled West’s practices as Ponzi schemes. (According to court records, West vigorously defended himself against accusations of skipping out on payments to the paper and elsewhere, and denied he was running any Ponzi scheme.)

A middle-aged couple laid out West’s alleged scheme in a 2013 lawsuit against the entrepreneur. After reading West’s Forbes article, the husband and wife withdrew from their retirement fund, used a portion of their savings, and borrowed money from their adult son to invest $150,000 in a home West was flipping in August 2010. Allegedly promised a doubled return, they learned West sold the house a year later and never shared the profits. Only after confronting West did they manage to recoup $115,000, filing suit for the remaining $35,000. (West denied the claims of fraud, and the case was dismissed in late 2013 after the couple failed to meet a court deadline.)

Even West’s own attorney sued him. Scott Johannessen said he successfully fought off several fraud litigation claims against West, but after the house Johannessen was living in (which he rented from West) suddenly went into foreclosure, he filed suit in February 2014. Hoping to block the foreclosure of his family’s home, Johannessen listed seven alleged Ponzi schemes West was allegedly involved in between November 2011 and August 2013. 

He alleged West followed the same pattern in each instance. After West was “threatened by an attorney with a civil action and potential criminal prosecution for allegedly orchestrating and participating in a Ponzi scheme,” Johannessen claimed, West would settle “with monies [West] borrowed and/or otherwise secured from one or more third parties.” (The case was eventually moot after West’s LLC that was controlling the property declared bankruptcy.)

In early 2015 — nearly a dozen lawsuits later — West applied to change his last name from Leipzig legally, listing the reason as: “Don’t like my name. Always misspelled. Too hard,” according to court documents.

“If I would have googled his name, I would have stopped dead in my tracks,” says a former associate who says they lost their life savings and home because of West in the 2010s. 

Raising Suspicions

From the outset of their relationship, Nancy financially supported West. A nurturer to her core, she covered their living expenses, footed the cost of vacations to Cancun and Jamaica, and paid for his new Mercedes-Benz, according to her lawsuit.

In return, West was Nancy’s confidant, advisor, business partner, and a spiritual mentor — she credited West with recementing her faith in Christ. West became so enmeshed in Nancy’s businesses that she entrusted him to help run the George Jones estate, although he “knew next to nothing about country music,” Nancy wrote in her book. Eventually, Nancy was able to net a reported $4.4 million from the sale of Country Gold, roughly the same amount she paid for the building that would house the George Jones museum.

West helped conceive the museum, which included a restaurant, gift shop, event space, and roofdeck bar. Named as general manager, he pulled shifts at the busy restaurant in the heart of Nashville right beside Nancy, who cleaned toilets and waitressed. When Nancy struck a deal with publishing company Concord Bicycle Music to purchase Jones’ music catalog for a reported $30 million in January 2016, West was listed as secretary for the record company and described himself as business manager for the estate. 

As West’s stock grew in the Nashville entertainment scene, his background and prior business dealings began to raise suspicions among Nancy’s closest friends. The concern materialized into a third-party investigative firm digging into West’s past to produce an extensive due-diligence background report. The October 2014 findings, obtained by Rolling Stone, were brutal, tracing more than a dozen state and federal lawsuits filed against West in Wisconsin and Tennessee.  

But the background report never made its way to Nancy. “I really didn’t trust him,” the old friend who ordered the report says. “Time went by, and she was still with him. I just let it be. I never showed it to her, because it seemed like she was happy.” 

There were other odd signs. In November 2013 — a month after West had moved in with Nancy — five items of jewelry had vanished from Nancy’s master-bedroom closet from the top of her safe, according to a police report obtained by Rolling Stone. The report listed West as a suspect, but the case seemingly went nowhere and was shut. (“Refus[al] to cooperate” was listed as the reason the case was concluded.)

But some did try to warn her about her new lover’s reputation. “I was frantically trying to get in touch with [a mutual friend] and say, ‘Look, you gotta help her — she’s getting ready to get swindled,” says one of West’s ex-girlfriends. “[Nancy] wouldn’t hear it.” 

‘Hell on Fire’ 

Nancy wasn’t the first woman to be swept up by West’s charm. 

“Here you go baby,” West emailed a woman who would later declare bankruptcy after going into a real estate deal with him in the 2010s. “I think I got it ready for your signature.” West walked her through the process so she could “be safe and have no worries of anyone ever touching” her belongings. He signed the note, “Daddy.”

Those who knew West describe him as being charming and outgoing. “You’d think he’s the nicest person in the world,” one well-placed source says. “But he’s really — believe me — very conniving, very wise in making you believe anything that he wanted you to believe.” 

Two ex-girlfriends, who wished to have their names withheld due to privacy reasons, claim West lovebombed them as he aggressively pursued them in the 2010s. (The women’s relationships with West overlapped, but they do not know each other.) Both were recently single mothers when they met West, who would turn up to volunteer around the house and gift them diamond jewelry. 

As the relationships soured, both claim West harassed and threatened them. One said she had to call the police, describing the scene with her children present as “hell on fire.” The other woman said she began sleeping with a pistol in her bedside table after claiming West dangled her from her home’s balcony, followed her in his car, and peered into her windows at night. 

Their claims echoed a restraining order filed against West by his third wife in July 2004, just a few months after he moved to Nashville. Filing for a divorce on grounds of adultery, inappropriate marital conduct, and irreconcilable differences, according to court records, the woman accused West of being controlling, as well as verbal and emotional abuse throughout their five-year marriage. (The woman declined to be interviewed by Rolling Stone.)

“Husband also has a violent temper and has for the last years of this marriage had an especially violent temper, cursing [at] the Wife and referred to her as ‘f…ing stupid’ and has used other vile and crude remarks,” the complaint, obtained by Rolling Stone, alleges. (West denied aspects of his ex-wife’s complaint in his own court submission and accused her of taking money from their joint account, but ultimately agreed they should divorce.) Simultaneously, she obtained an order of protection against him, claiming he had kicked down her locked bedroom door, left more than a dozen “harassing phone messages,” and threatened he would “hunt her down if she did not return his calls.” (West was arrested for violating the order, but the misdemeanor charge was later dropped.) 

The third ex-wife’s daughter and West’s former stepdaughter, Alesia Porter, tells Rolling Stone that her mother’s marriage to West was financially, emotionally, and verbally abusive, and that West isolated the mother and daughter from their relatives. There were two sides to West, she explains: the God-fearing, jovial family man, and the man they came to fear. “He never cracked in front of other people,” Porter says. “But as far as at home, he was always very abusive.” 

He was also a cheater, Porter claims. “He told my mom that he was going on a spiritual retreat, and she followed him to the airport and found another woman’s luggage tag and [that he was taking the woman on] a $10,000 vacation on [their] anniversary,” Porter says. 

“He has no remorse for anything, absolutely nothing,” she adds. “He thinks that he is untouchable. He thinks that he is his own God, and that everyone is beneath him.”

Luck Runs Out 

By July 2016, West’s luck finally ran out. Already named in more than a dozen federal and state lawsuits, Tennessee criminal prosecutors came knocking. He was charged with two counts of bank fraud for lying on a loan application to secure a mortgage on an investment property. Prosecutors said West inflated his income and net worth, posing as a real estate investor earning $300,000 a year, and submitted “fraudulent and forged documents,” according to the indictment.

Nancy covered his legal fees, and that September, West pleaded guilty to the fraud charges. He was sentenced to a year of house arrest and ordered to pay nearly $1 million in restitution, a debt he allegedly persuaded Nancy to front. According to her lawsuit, West promised to pay her back but never did. 

West seemed to have her wrapped around his finger — an anomaly for the fearless Nancy, who once took a journalist on a three-wheeler ride just to dump them in a creek over what she said were false tabloid-style reports they’d penned about Jones and his tumultuous relationship with Wynette. In August 2021, West pushed Nancy to buy an over-the-top home listed at $5.9 million, complete with a temperature-controlled wine room, home bar, and billiards area, a well-placed source says. “He had a big say in it,” they say. “She went along with whatever he said because he could convince her into anything. He was that type of person.”

He also persuaded Nancy to get involved in cryptocurrency, becoming an “expert” while he served his house arrest from her home. Upon his insistence, Nancy bankrolled investments in a range of tokens, including DOGE and Ethereum. “Mr. West volunteered to access my accounts with [crypto-trading platforms] … in light of his assertion that I was far too inexperienced,” Nancy wrote in a sworn affidavit. “Each investment was funded by assets transferred from my personal bank account(s) and was performed by Mr. West on my behalf and for my benefit.”

From the outside, life looked stable after West’s conviction. He stuck by Nancy’s side after she caught a near-fatal case of Covid-19 in 2021, losing her hair and 70 percent of her lungs after they moved into their new home. Nancy said she died for 15 minutes before regaining consciousness. As she worked toward recovery, she had to learn how to walk again. West was her “warrior and defender throughout the hospitalization and rehabilitation,” Nancy wrote in her memoir. 

By February of this year, the couple appeared smiling together, posing with their Midsouth Emmys for executive producing Still Playin’ Possum, a George Jones tribute concert. But Nancy says the façade collapsed when she discovered West’s affair — and her missing money — in late June. 

West allegedly tried to pacify Nancy in the days after she learned about the stolen ledger, according to police documents, promising to “send five million dollars of the cryptocurrency funds back to her bank account” but was firm that was “all she would get.” That wasn’t good enough. Nancy filed a police report and hired a cryptocurrency forensic service firm to recover the funds and wrestle back more than $10 million worth of tokens. Nancy uncovered West’s affair at a fortuitous juncture: West seemed to have had every intention of hightailing it out of the country.

Unbeknownst to Nancy, a woman who worked at a local store in the Nashville area had been telling co-workers about a new wealthy man who had entered her life, says a source who worked with the woman and asked not to be named for privacy reasons. (Rolling Stone is choosing not to name the woman and has reached out to her for comment.) In late April, she posted a video of a massive oval-cut diamond ring, marking herself “engaged” on Facebook. “Choose a man who cherishes God and loves you like no one ever could,” she wrote. On June 22, she uploaded a video that her “babe” surprised her with a beautiful floral arrangement and congratulation balloons to celebrate her last day of work. She was thrilled to be “embracing my new life as a full time wife and moving back to my country,” she wrote. 

By August, the woman appeared to have moved back to the Philippines. Last week, she was pictured smiling with family members. Taped to the wall was a large poster of West, the woman, and her teenage son. “Welcome home,” the sign read in cursive lettering. 

But West never made it to the gathering after police caught up to him at the airport. Pleading not guilty to the Class A felony theft charge, West sat around in the county jail for two weeks until his attorney managed to reduce his $1 million bond down to $400,000 on July 29. (West bonded out on Aug. 5, with his next court date set for Oct. 7.)

For many who crossed paths with West, the reckoning feels overdue. “He is an emotional, financial, soul-sucking succubus,” says his former stepdaughter Porter. “He will latch onto you and take you for everything.”