Cassie (15:38)
Yeah, anyway, anyway. Irene was a veterinarian, and I just thought that that was also really cool. She's outdoorsy. She's a veterinarian. I'm like, she sounds like she was a really, really cool woman. On October 21, 2007, Jack and Irene drove into Pisgah National Forest for a beautiful fall day hike, a time of year that undoubtedly filled the park with others seeking fall foliage and the beautiful mild weather that's there. They parked their SUV along Yellow Gap Road near U.S. route 276, an area with both hiking and camping, and headed into the woods together. But they never returned. It took a while before people realized that they were missing. It was their neighbors who first noticed that something was wrong. When Their mail began piling up on their doorstep and no one had heard from them. Neighbors contacted the sheriff's office in town and called their son Robert, who was living in Texas at the time. He flew up the following day and alerted local authorities. When they found the house door was locked, they broke in to search around, noticing rotting fruit on the counter, laundry halfway done, and a house that clearly hadn't been occupied in at least a week. Although Robert didn't know when his parents had left or what their plans had been, he felt strongly that they should begin their search in Pisgah National Forest because it was the place that they most frequently visited. Upon his arrival into the park, he found his father's vehicle parked at a trailhead. But there was no sign of either his mother or his father. So he drove to the ranger station and reported his parents missing, stating he hadn't heard from them since they arrived in the park on October 21, but found his father's vehicle parked at a trailhead. It was now November 7, 2007. So it's been over. It's been about two weeks since they've been missing at this point. Immediately, search and rescue was called in. And the first thing that they noticed was the car they had had clearly been there for a while. It was unmoved. There was, you know, there's dust, pollen, leaves gathering on the top. It looks like a car that hasn't moved in a while. And at that point they got a little bit worried, like, okay, they parked at this trailhead. This car has not moved. What's going on? At that point, the search ramped up and police worried that there was some sort of foul play here. The search continued for two days until on November 9, off the trail the Bryants had been hiking, they found clothing and the remains of Irene Bryant. It was very obvious from the scene that she had been murdered. Later, autopsy reports stated she died from blunt force trauma to her head by something with a cylinder shape. But now they had some huge questions. One, who did this? And where was Jack Bryant? These questions left investigators to dig deeper, searching the Brian's phone records for any clues. That's when they discovered that Jack had made a phone call to 911 on October 21st at 3:59pm unfortunately, there was a lack of reception in the area and the call didn't actually go through. Records showed that it bounced off the nearest cell phone tower but never actually connected to call authorities. They were able to triangulate the call, finding that the call was made from about a 30 minute drive from where Irene was found because his car was still in the parking lot of the park. This led investigators to believe that Jack may have been abducted. When news reports came out about what had happened and investigators were looking for leads, two women came forward with a concerning experience of their own. Not far from where Irene was later found, two women recalled an unsettling encounter while they were picnicking with their dogs. An older man, estimated to be in his 50s or 60s, approached them with his own dog and acting as if he wanted the dogs to meet and become friends. Almost immediately, the women felt uneasy. Something about his presence just felt totally wrong to them. They described having a physical reaction with the hair on their back of their neck standing up, which was this clear warning to them. They're like, I don't know what's going on here, but I feel this is so wrong. And both of them found a way to get out of there immediately. They're like, we have to go. This person's not safe. At this point, investigators had a description of a potential suspect, but they still didn't know who he was. And obviously Jack was still missing. Just weeks later, another person disappeared, this time more than 400 miles south in Florida's Panhandle in Apalachicola national forest. Spanning over 640,000 acres, it's the largest national forest in the state and is known for its biking, paddling, birding and fishing. One of its most visited areas is Leon Sink Geological Area, where more than five miles of hiking trails wind past a series of visible sinkholes and openings into an extensive underground cave system. Many of these pools are filled with striking cerulean and turquoise water. It's a wonderful place to go for a walk and sit and enjoy nature. And that's exactly what Cheryl Hodges Dunlap was doing on December 1, 2007. She walked the trails before sitting down on a log to read a book and enjoy the sounds of nature. The following morning, on December 2, 2007, when Cheryl didn't arrive to teach her Sunday school class in Tallahassee, it immediately raised alarms to friends and co workers. Cheryl was not someone who ever missed commitments, especially without notice. Cheryl was a 46 year old single mom and worked as a registered nurse at Florida State's University Students Student Health Center. She was active in her church, river of Life, where she served as a Sunday school teacher and prayer leader. She had trained in ministry and traveled on mission trips to China, Haiti and Mexico. After Hurricane Ivan, she volunteered in Pensacola to help with disaster relief. Her life revolved around service Faith and showing up for others. So when she did not show up to her class, it was deeply concerning when they still had not heard from her. By the following morning on December 3, she was reported missing to the local sheriff's department. Her friends knew that she loved the outdoors and spent a significant time in the Apalachicola National Forest. So later that day, they went looking for her there. It wasn't long before they found her white Toyota parked at the Leon Sinks area. When investigators arrived, it was immediately clear that something was wrong. Cheryl's car was not parked along the paved road, but instead pulled off on a logging road. One of the rear tires was flat and appeared to have been deliberately slashed. The doors were unlocked, and her purse was found on the passenger seat, Its contents disturbed in a way that suggested someone had gone through it. And her wallet was missing. From the start, investigators believe Cheryl may have been abducted. One of their first actions was to place a tracer on her debit card so they would be alerted if anyone tried to use them. A large search effort was launched into the surrounding national forest. But despite extensive searching, there were no signs of Cheryl anywhere. When her story reached the news, witnesses started coming forward. One couple reported seeing her at Leon Sink, sitting peacefully on a log, reading a book. As they walked the trail closer to her, she got up from her spot and walked past them on the trail and waved a quick hello before continuing on. They didn't notice anything out of the ordinary at the time. The search continued, and several days later, on December 15, a hunter came across human remains in Apalachicola National Forest. What he discovered was deeply disturbing. The body he found had been decapitated. Shaken, the hunter ran back to his truck where his son was waiting for him, and the two immediately left the area and contacted authorities. When investigators arrived, they were met with a horrific scene. Not only had this person been decapitated, but their hands had also been removed, making identification difficult. Because of the condition of the remains, an autopsy could not determine a definitive cause of death, though investigators believed the fatal injuries likely involved trauma to the head. Despite the challenges, authorities suspected the remains belonged to Cheryl Hodges Dunlap. That suspicion was later confirmed when they were able to match the DNA to Cheryl. Investigators began speaking with the people closest to Cheryl, trying to determine whether anyone might have wanted to hurt her. They were unable to identify a suspect or even someone who harbored any ill will toward Cheryl. Everyone who knew her described her as loving, as kind, generous, deeply caring, and not a single, single person that they spoke to had even a Slightly negative thing to say about her.
