Rainy Night Scary Stories for Sleep | Ep. 426

Summary

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Scary Stories and Rain: Rainy Night Scary Stories for Sleep | Ep. 426

Host: Being Scared
Date: July 9, 2026

Episode Overview

This episode of Scary Stories and Rain offers a chilling blend of real-life horror stories, each told against a backdrop of soothing rain. The calm, almost hypnotic narration contrasts sharply with the unsettling, true accounts—from encounters with death and potential predators to brushes with unsolved mysteries and brushes with survival in the wilderness. The episode is crafted for late-night listening, perfectly suited to those who want to be spooked just before sleep.

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Key Discussion Points & Story Summaries

1. The Mummified Woman in the Farmhouse

[01:29–08:55]

• Summary:
  A man’s car overheats on an isolated country road, forcing him to seek help at a rundown farmhouse. Inside, he finds a woman lying motionless, her face dry and glassy-eyed. After realizing she might be dead—her skin cold and eyes glassy—a sudden noise prompts him to flee. The police later find nothing unusual at the house, intensifying the narrator’s fear he might never know what truly happened.

• Notable Quote:

  “Her face had a very dry, almost mummified look to it… but her eyes sat completely still.”
  — Narrator, [04:29]

• Memorable Moment:
  The police return and claim there’s nothing at the house, suggesting someone potentially hid the body after the protagonist fled ([07:24]).

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2. Craigslist Xbox—Almost a Victim

[08:55–15:51]

• Summary:
  Desperate for a new Xbox One X, the narrator agrees to meet a Craigslist seller at home. When the seller arrives late—with another person waiting in a van, hands hidden in a hoodie—the situation feels off. The narrator wisely feigns getting cash, calls 911, and the men speed off, leaving a hatchet embedded in the door.

• Notable Quote:

  “You know when you just get a gut feeling about something? Yeah, that.”
  — Storyteller, [15:51]

• Memorable Moment:
  Discovery of the hatchet confirms the narrator’s instincts saved them from something far worse ([15:51]).

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3. The Drowning at the Hidden Lake

[15:51–24:26]

• Summary:
  On a fishing trip to a secret pond, the narrator’s cousin vanishes after a rope swing breaks. Despite a frantic search, his body isn’t found until days later, snagged on a sunken log. The narrator’s guilt lingers for years, later motivating him to learn to swim.

• Notable Quote:

  “So in a twisted kind of way, his death had a positive impact on my life. However, if I had the choice, I’d prefer that he still be with us.”
  — Storyteller, [24:26]

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4. Pizza Delivery to Nowhere

[24:43–30:51]

• Summary:
  A seasoned pizza driver is sent to a new, unmapped part of town. The old house seems abandoned, but after entering, hearing a strange, whispered greeting, he leaves. Police find evidence the house was recently occupied and explain the odd history of the area. The event prompts the narrator to never again risk unfamiliar deliveries.

• Notable Quote:

  “From personal experience, people had killed for much less.”
  — Police Officer (paraphrased), [30:51]

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5. Surviving the Mountain Blizzard

[31:34–41:05]

• Summary:
  Two climbers are trapped in a surprise blizzard on Colorado’s Mount of the Holy Cross. Ill-prepared for two nights stranded, they stave off hypothermia and despair with humor and resolve, finally rescued by helicopter after multiple harrowing setbacks.

• Notable Quotes:

  “Dude, we could die out here… I’m not ready, man.”
  — Rory, [38:10]
  “We were told to look for bodies,” he said.
  — Rescuer, [41:03]

• Memorable Moment:
  The raw relief and exhaustion as they’re finally lifted into the helicopter ([41:05]).

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6. The Murder of Rachel Moran

[42:15–49:32]

• Summary:
  The true crime case of Rachel Moran, a young woman murdered after being lured to her neighbor’s flat. The investigation hinges on physical evidence and CCTV, ultimately leading to a conviction. The story unflinchingly details the offender’s disturbing actions and the impact on the community.

• Notable Quote:

  “I can’t be normal. I must be evil. A normal person would not do this.”
  — Michael Little, [46:43]
  “If ever there was a murderer deserving of life imprisonment, it is Michael Little.”
  — Storyteller, [49:32]

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7. The Hunter’s Fall

[49:52–55:26]

• Summary:
  An experienced hunter falls from his tree stand, breaking his legs and back. He crawls to the open, finally calling 911 and surviving a harrowing, painful wait for help. The accident changes his approach to hunting, but not his determination.

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8. Trust Your Instincts—A Childhood Narrow Escape

[55:26–63:18]

• Summary:
  A young girl’s gut feeling during a visit to her neighbor’s apartment saves her and her cousin from a potential predator. Years later, she discovers the neighbor was indeed arrested for predatory crimes—her instincts validated and her actions celebrated by her family.

• Notable Quote:

  “I can’t explain that feeling of dread, but…I was very unwilling to go.”
  — Storyteller, [58:41]

• Memorable Moment:
  The realization as a teenager of just how close she came to danger ([63:18]).

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9. The JonBenet Ramsey Case—A True Crime Retrospective

[63:46–End]

• Summary:
  A detailed recounting of the notorious unsolved murder of JonBenet Ramsey, including the family background, the infamous ransom note, the botched investigation, and disputed exonerations of the family. The episode closes on the bleak note that justice may never be served.

• Notable Quotes:

  “To clear somebody just on the premise of touch DNA, especially when you have a situation where the crime scene wasn’t secure at the beginning, really is a stretch.”
  — Gordon Coombs, [71:31]
  “We may never know who actually murdered JonBenet Ramsey…”
  — Storyteller, [73:15 approx.]

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Memorable Quotes & Moments

• “Her face had a very dry, almost mummified look to it…” — Narrator, [04:29]
• “You never know who’s behind the username.” — Storyteller, [15:51]
• “People have killed for much less.” — Police Officer (paraphrased), [30:51]
• “We were told to look for bodies.” — Rescuer, [41:03]
• “To this day, whenever I think of that tense, dreadful encounter…I am drenched with disgust. But thankfully, also with relief.” — Storyteller, [63:46]
• “We may never know who actually murdered JonBenet Ramsey…” — Storyteller, [End]

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Episode Tone & Style

• Calm, intimate narration that builds dread by juxtaposing the soothing rain with disturbing true stories.
• Personal and confessional language—each narrator invites the listener into their fear, confusion, relief, or horror.
• Sensitivity to trauma, but unflinching in the reality of evil, misfortune, and mystery.

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Timestamps for Major Stories

• The Mummified Woman: [01:29–08:55]
• Craigslist Xbox Nightmare: [08:55–15:51]
• Fishing Tragedy: [15:51–24:26]
• Pizza Delivery Incident: [24:43–30:51]
• Mountain Blizzard Survival: [31:34–41:05]
• Rachel Moran Murder: [42:15–49:32]
• Hunter’s Fall: [49:52–55:26]
• Trusting Instincts as a Child: [55:26–63:18]
• JonBenet Ramsey Retrospective: [63:46–End]

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Final Thoughts

This episode of Scary Stories and Rain leans into its core appeal: layered, authentic terror narrated with soothing calm. Whether sharing anonymous survivor tales, true crime, or infamous mysteries, the stories always circle back to survival, instinct, and the thin, often invisible, line between ordinary life and horror.

Transcript

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[Narrator]

Hey, welcome to Scary Stories in Rain. Do you want to listen ad free? Just subscribe on Spotify for $2.99 a month. Now turn out the lights, enjoy the stories, and enjoy the rain. Although what I'm about to tell you may sound like one of your run of the mill horror movies, I swear by the validity of it and what I saw. It all started on a very hot July day this past year. My car is almost 20 years old and sometimes overheats on hot days just like this one. However, until I get a better paying job, it's the car I'm stuck with this day. I was driving through the back roads looking for a family of dog breeders a friend of mine had told me about. I had been searching for the place for several hours and was approaching the warmest part of the day. As per usual, my car began overheating and I was forced to pull over. I picked up my phone to call my girlfriend, only to see that my battery was dead. After I spent a couple of minutes cussing my luck, I acknowledged that I was going to have to find someone with a working phone. That wasn't going to happen unless I started walking soon I spotted an old farmhouse off in the distance and headed toward it. A trip that would have taken half an hour on a normal day took almost an hour because of the oppressive heat. I had to take several breaks during the course of the journey, but eventually made it. The area around the house looked more like a junkyard. Parts of old cars spread about, and I had to weave through a maze of them to reach the front door. I knocked on the door for several minutes but got no answer. Thinking maybe the homeowner may be hard of hearing, I walked around and looked into the windows, hoping to see someone inside.

[Storyteller]

At the side of the house, I

[Narrator]

spotted a telephone hanging on the wall just inside the kitchen. Now that I knew there was a phone there, I became excited and started calling out for someone. Even after walking all the way around, no reply came. I was about to give up until I saw a woman laying on a bed. I very nearly banged on the window to try to get her attention, but I figured that may scare her, so I went back to the front door and let myself in. In hindsight, that was just as scary. Before I entered, however, I took a piece of paper from a notebook I carry with me and wrote out a note explaining what I was doing there. Even then, I called out several times

[Storyteller]

as I approached the bedroom.

[Narrator]

Still no answer came, and I continued toward the room. The closer I got to the woman, the more her appearance began to unnerve me.

[Storyteller]

She was laying flat on her back

[Narrator]

and staring blankly at the ceiling. I had initially believed she was watching the television that was turned on in the room with her, but her eyes sat completely still. Regardless, I got closer and once I was within a few steps, handed her the note. When the note touched her hand, she did not react. This caused me to get closer, and this was when I realized something was very wrong. Her face had a very dry, almost mummified look to it. Her hair was a vibrant black, a color not often seen on older females. She had to have known I was there by that point, but her eyes stayed fixed.

[Storyteller]

This is what caused me to lean

[Narrator]

in even closer and look into her eyes. Rather than being a slightly bloodshot or moist looking like most people's, they had a shiny, glassy appearance, like they were fake. In spite of this, not until I actually touched her did I know for

[Storyteller]

sure that she was dead.

[Narrator]

I realized that perhaps she was a mannequin rather than a human, so I reached down to touch her bare hand. The texture of her skin was dry, but stone cold to the touch. The oddity of this was just beginning to really sink in when a loud creaking noise came from behind me. Without a second thought, I tore out of there and ran back down the road in the direction of my car. Within half of a mile, I ran into an older man in a truck and he agreed to give me a ride back into town. I said nothing about my experience to him and anytime he attempted to make small talk, I said as little as I could. He let me borrow his phone to call my girlfriend and she agreed to meet us at a gas station on the edge of town. When he let me out of there, I thanked him and he went on his way. Once I was safely inside my girlfriend's car, I borrowed her phone to call the police. I hadn't even told her about it yet, so the look of shock on her face as I described what I saw showed me what my expression likely was at the time I discovered it. The cops said they would hey, it's

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[Narrator]

and the car out to the house to check out my claims. I called a wrecker next to pick up my car. The police never called me back, so after waiting three days, I called to inquire about what they found. It took a few minutes to find a person aware of my call, but once I did, the officer said that he and his partner searched the entire property and found nothing out of the ordinary, especially not a mummified woman. I thanked them and hung up the phone. What happened after I fled? I can only guess the noise behind me was probably the owner of the home and he hid the woman's body knowing that the cops were likely to be called. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what I saw in that house on that bed. I am positive that I saw a human laying on that bed. But that's all. More than once I have been tempted to grab a camera and return to that house to get proof of my claims. But fear of the unknown. And what else could be waiting for me if I did has stopped me. If the nightmares of her soulless eyes continue, however, I may have no other choice.

[Storyteller]

Back when it was originally released, I really, really wanted to get my hands on the new Xbox One X. You know the one? It was 4k ready with a considerably faster processor, so naturally, I tried absolutely everything in my power to get one as immediately as I could. My local Walmart was having one of those Black Friday sales, and like so many others, I stood patiently in line waiting to try and beat the rush to grab one. But I was nowhere near sprightly or fortunate enough to actually get one that way. So after failing to get one in person, I then tried getting one online. But as rapidly as I wanted to own one, the users who were reselling them were asking way, way too much money, and I simply couldn't afford to shell out double or sometimes triple the price. After weeks of trying to find a way to get a hold of one, I had to come to the conclusion that it just was not meant to be. It was then that I had something of a stroke of luck. Although I had resorted to Craigslist in my desperation, I did actually find someone that was selling their Xbox One X at no more than the original buying price of the console. Naturally, I was skeptical. For the life of me, I simply could not fathom why they would do something like that. But one thought overrode all others. If I didn't put in a bid now, someone else would, and I could kiss my chance of owning a 1x goodbye. I immediately emailed the seller and let them know that I was very interested. Not only that, but I had the cash on hand and ready to go.

[Narrator]

I also offered to pay for gas

[Storyteller]

or whatever it would take to get the console delivered to my door. I figured that would be a pretty appealing offer to someone who I guessed was just strapped for cash. Around the holidays, I was stunned to get an almost instantaneous response stating that they did still have the Xbox and were in fact still waiting for a proper bid from a serious buyer. They politely asked for a delivery address so they could bring it over as soon as possible. I was sort of hesitant to divulge such personal information and asked if it

[Narrator]

would be a better idea to first

[Storyteller]

meet in public, since it was much safer that way. I'll be honest, I wasn't too pleased with the idea of a total stranger coming to my house. But he informed me that he was going to be very busy running holiday errands all day and that there would only be some pretty specific windows of opportunity to drop it off. It would be much more convenient for him if he was able to come over to my house. I was still not particularly ecstatic about the idea, but oh man, I really, really wanted that new 4K Xbox. So in the end I agreed and texted the dude my home address. I figured it was safer than me going over to his place. At least this way I would be on home turf. I was so happy and eager to get my hands on that new console. And that excitement only grew as I began waiting for the guy to turn up. But he took his sweet time. I mean, hours and hours passed by before I began to suspect that he wasn't going to actually show around. One in the afternoon, four hours after he was due, I was seriously losing my cool. Thinking it was a prank or something, I tried texting the guy back, asking him where he was. Previously I had gotten pretty timely responses from the guy, but this time I didn't hear a single thing from him. By six o' clock that evening, I lost all hope. I assumed that he had gotten a better offer from someone else and didn't have the heart to tell me that he had picked a new buyer. I was disappointed. More than words can possibly describe. I had gotten myself so psyched, I can't even tell you how deflated I was. It's one thing to not have gotten the item from the store. I could come to terms with that. But I was so close to having one in my hands. It sucked having my hopes down dashed so cruelly like that. But that didn't mean I had given up entirely. So for the rest of the night, I kept looking around on Craigslist and other sites to find a new Xbox One X that was within my price range. But as I was getting ready to wind down for bed, I heard something. At first I dismissed it as the wind or something, that it was maybe just my imagination. But then I heard it again. Someone was knocking. Not at my front door, but lightly on the TV room window. I walked up to the bedroom window and peered out into the driveway, seeing this strange looking guy at my front door, looking around as if checking the coast is clear.

[Narrator]

Clear.

[Storyteller]

I'm suspicious, but I do go downstairs to see what he wants. He identified himself as the guy who had the Xbox, apologized for being so late, and explained that he had gotten backtracked with errands during his day. Then he casually asked if I still had the money. I opened the door all the way, but still kept the screen Door closed as a precaution. Something just didn't feel right, like at all. I told him that yeah, I still had the cash on me, but I didn't see that he had anything with him. So I calmly asked if he brought the Xbox with him, like if it's still in his car or something. As I expected, he told me that it was out in his van. He told me to get the money and come out to the van with him and he would get it for me. I let him know I wasn't really comfortable walking out to his van, but he seems to understand and tells me it's all good. I briefly look over the guy's shoulder and see that there is in fact someone else sitting there in the van. Not only that, but the guy at my door has been keeping his hands concealed in a little front pouch in his hoodie the entire time that he was talking to me. And there was definitely something more than just his hands in there. Don't ask me how I could tell.

[Narrator]

I just could.

[Storyteller]

You know when you just get a gut feeling about something? Yeah, that.

[Narrator]

I try to stay as chill as

[Storyteller]

possible as I lie to him that I would just go to fetch my wallet and I would return in a minute. His mood immediately changed as I closed the door in his face before locking it. I then make the split second decision. Better to be safe than sorry. So I pull my phone out of my shorts and dial 91 1. But as I do, I heard a loud thud on my front door, then the sound of the van's engine revving before it zooms off into the night. When I went to check to see if he damaged my door, I nearly pissed my pants when I saw a rusty old hatchet buried in the wood. I was right that he had something in his sweatshirt and that I should not go out to the van with him. Be careful who you're buying from, folks. You never know who's behind the username. Because my parents had separated before I was born, I spent my time growing up between each of their houses. Each summer Until I turned 19, I stayed with my dad in rural Missouri. He had grown up in the area himself and most of his family still lived there. Without much to do, like going to the movies and stuff, I would fill my days hanging out with my older cousin and getting into mischief. Many of our long summer days were taken in wandering the surrounding woods. On one of these journeys, we came across a big lake setting quietly by itself out in the middle of nowhere. The water was crystal clear and filled with Tons of monstrous fish. We asked the adults if they were aware of its existence, but none had heard of it. That was probably the reason for it having so many large fish. No one living in the area had fished it and any who had in the past. It allowed its location to be lost. We would fish the pond three or four times, coming away with a stringer full of lunkers on each occasion. On the fifth occasion, we hoped to accumulate enough for a big family fish fry. The summer holiday was starting to wind down and we figured a fish fry would be a great way to cap it off. It was a warm summer Saturday morning when we headed out. We started about an hour before sunup because the walk in took over an hour. Besides, the fish stopped biting by the hottest part of the day and we hoped to get back to my dad's house by early afternoon. The beautiful side of the pond came into view around dawn. It didn't take long for us to get our first bites and for the next three hours the fish came quickly, one after another. Our limit was caught by 10:45 and I was rearing to get going. We had a 90 minute walk back with two 5 gallon buckets packed to the top with fish, so I imagined another 30 could be added to that. To my displeasure, my cousin thought it would be refreshing to take a dip in the lake before we left. He tried to pressure me into joining him, but I didn't know how to swim at the time. I just wanted to get back. But he was older than me so he was in charge. I plopped my tail onto a rock and waited while he did his thing. There was an old rope tied to a tree, probably from a hundred years ago, and he wanted to swing from. Looked unsafe to me. However, my concerns were laughed off and he stripped down to his boxers. Setting his clothes on the ground next to me. He climbed the tree a little way and grabbed the rope. Pushing off, he swung out just a short distance before the rope snapped right above him. He had made it out far enough to hit the deep water, but probably not as as far far as he intended. When he hit the water, his body made a dull thud sound. It certainly didn't sound normal and likely hurt. I was planning on laughing at him and saying I told you so, but as the seconds passed, he never resurfaced. The situation was quickly becoming scary. I looked around to see if he came up somewhere far farther away, perhaps floating unconscious because of the hard contact with the water, but still nothing. I was beginning to panic and waded out as far as I dare looking into the water for him. Unfortunately, the water became so cloudy with every step I took and made it impossible to see. Soon it was clear to me that he had drowned. How, I had no idea. Perhaps if I could have swam back then, I may have been able to help him, but it was too late now. I was helpless to do anything more than pick up and head home. On the entire walk back, a small nugget of hope lingered in the back of my mind that maybe he had tricked me and he would pop out at some point. This did not happen however, and the dread I carry.

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[Narrator]

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[Storyteller]

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[Storyteller]

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[Narrator]

grew with each step.

[Storyteller]

I tried several times to find the words, but with each attempt I would break down and choke on my tears. Ultimately, I could only manage Mark drowned. They got the point and after. Once I was able to pull myself together, I led my dad and my uncle back to the pond. Mark's body was still nowhere to be found. With no other options, we went into the sheriff's office to report the drowning. When I realized where we were headed, I started freaking out. In my young mind, I thought I was going to get in of front trouble or be blamed for my cousin's death. It took a few minutes, but they were able to convince me that I was not in trouble even after they had, I couldn't help but feel guilty every time I looked at my uncle. Regardless of what he claimed, I couldn't believe that he did not blame me, even if it was just a small amount. I explained what happened to the sheriff and the search began the next morning. Just by chance, that was the day I was going back to my mom's. That Monday night, my mom sat me down to tell me that a team of divers had found Mark's body earlier that day. When they discovered him, one of his feet were hung up on a sunken log, so they assumed that was why he never surfaced. I wish I could say this made me feel better, but it didn't. It did, however, serve as a catalyst to learn how to swim. The guilt of not being able to help my cousin stayed with me for most of my life and I never wanted to be in the position of not being able to help another person ever again. So in a twist twisted kind of way, his death had a positive impact on my life. However, if I had the choice, I'd

[Narrator]

prefer that he still be with us.

[Storyteller]

During the early 2000s, when I was attending law school, I worked nights delivering pizza for one of the national chains. I had done something similar when I was younger and attending my local community college. Anytime I found myself sorely in need of quick cash, that was the avenue I would choose. Despite the many stories I have heard questioning the safety of the job, I never had a SAF single run in with a thief. I'm sure back in the early days it could be a little dangerous, but by the time I joined the game, companies had learned that implementing practices such as limiting the driver to $20 lowered the chance of hold ups drastically. Even though I was never a victim of a robbery, I did have one or two scary incidents I could write about. The worst of these happened to me back in the 2000s. I was very familiar with the city I was living in at the time. Moving there after junior college and delivering for several places over the last five years had made me intimate about almost every nook and cranny of the place. However, one evening I would be called to an address that I, nor any of the other drivers even knew existed. When the order came in, I went straight to the map to find the address, but it wasn't there. Not even the GPS on my phone showed it. We didn't have any no delivery areas at that time, so I had to take it despite my misgivings. Theoretically, the place would have existed if the road continued for 10 more blocks. So I turned on to said road a block before its ending and followed it south. Sure enough, a newly paved road began where the old one should have ended. For what seemed like miles, I continued on this new section of road. Nothing stood on either side of it and I didn't pass another car the whole time. How the state managed to build it without a single report of its creation leaked to the media had me bewildered. The five years I had been driving all over this city, I had not known this part existed. In one way, I was very excited seeing all of it, like a Victorian explorer tracing the source of the Nile, but at the same Time. A deserted road popping up out of nowhere gave me a chill down my spine. It must have been a good 10 minutes before the house and question appeared in the distance. I couldn't understand why someone would build a house out here in the middle of nowhere with no way to reach it. When I got closer, I could see that the house had to be at least 15 years old or more and probably had not been repaired since then. No cars were around, and for a moment I thought the house was abandoned. But I could see that the front door was wide open. Behind the rickety old screen, everything looked to be above board, so I grabbed the pizza and headed for the door. I knocked on the screen door but got no answer. I could see what appeared to be a young female walking around the kitchen. When I knocked a second time, I heard a female voice say to come in. Despite my reservations, I stepped just inside the house and waited in a small foyer. I had learned from other drivers early on not to enter an unfamiliar house, but I had yet to see anything to concern me. I assumed the woman would be coming out soon to pay me. Instead, I overheard an unseen man with Whisper call him into the kitchen. When I heard that, I fled from the place as fast as I could. I was so freaked out. I got back to the restaurant in half the time it took me to get to the house. After I told my boss what had

[Narrator]

just occurred, he called the police.

[Storyteller]

All the excitement had me rattled, so my boss sent me home for the day. My phone rang a few hours later. It was the police. They had called to let me know what they had found. Whoever had been there was gone. Even though the place had more than likely been abandoned for a while, they did find evidence that people had just recently been inside.

[Narrator]

This was stuff my boss had already told them.

[Storyteller]

However, they did shed light on where the road came from and why. The house was the only building on an otherwise deserted area. The state had been trying to purchase the land on which the new section of road and house were for 20 years, but the landowner would not sell. They even tried to use eminent domain to get it, but a judge blocked it around two years before. Before the owner passed and his children finally sold the land to the state. They were so happy to get the land after all that time. The construction on the road was started immediately. It technically had yet to be formally opened, but locals had already began using it anyway. This was good to know, but I still wondered how the two people knew about the empty house sitting in the middle of nowhere. This was something the officer didn't know, of course. We could only assume they drove past it and decided it would be as good a place as any to ambush a delivery driver. Even $20 is a good score if you're desperate enough, he said. From personal experience, people had killed for much less. The officer left me with one good piece of news though. The county had slated the old house to be demolished in the coming week so no other poor delivery driver would

[Narrator]

be led out there to be robbed or worse.

[Storyteller]

Two days later I was driving down the brand new road which I was now using as a shortcut across town and witnessed the house's destruction. A load was being lifted from my shoulders right before my eyes. Never again would I enter a customer's home or even deliver to an area in which I was not well versed.

[Narrator]

Rory and I were halfway up Cross Coulure, a huge snow chute on the eastern side of Colorado's Mountain of the

[Storyteller]

Holy Cross, when the snowstorm rolled in

[Narrator]

almost a whole day early. That's when we knew that we were in serious trouble.

[Storyteller]

A few days prior, the TV weather

[Narrator]

forecast had told a completely different story. It reported a clear weather window well within our Thanksgiving break, which was one of our only opportunities to tick off Mount of the Holy Cross from our climbing bucket list. We had always bagged several of Colorado's mountains that winter, and we had been eyeing Holy Cross's steep, snow filled Coulure

[Storyteller]

for the previous year.

[Narrator]

Our plan was to stash some overnight gear at a base camp only a few miles from the start of our climb. From there we would go for the snow chute and then hike out once it was night. We had planned to start the climb in the afternoon when the snow was just about soft enough to provide our boots with grip. We arrived at the base of the snow chute at around noon, about 300ft up. The snow was way deeper than expected, but the sky was a clear blue. We were on schedule and the climb didn't seem like it was going to be too taxing. Additionally, we knew that we would have cell service on top of the peak.

[Storyteller]

We didn't expect to need it, but

[Narrator]

we considered it a safety net. We were right about the cell service, but we were wrong about the two hour climb. The higher we went, the deeper the snow became. Soon it was loose and powder all the way to the rock bed beneath. We were moving more slowly than expected,

[Storyteller]

but if the weather held, we would

[Narrator]

still make it up before dark a few hours into the climb, slogging upward within the steep Coulure Walls. We didn't even notice the dark clouds moving in from the west. The first snows came about halfway through the afternoon. By 5:30 it was pounding down with the wind drowning out our attempts to communicate. If there ever was a time to quit, that was it. But behind us, the snow was kicked out and slick from our climbing, way too unstable for any kind of descent. So we went with our only viable option, pushing on toward the summit and descending the much easier north ridge as quickly as we could manage. We tried to focus on keeping calm and pushing onward as darkness fell around us. The blizzard flashed through our headlamp beams and pelted our faces with ice. When I looked down at Rory, the terrified look in his eyes perfectly matched how I felt. By the time we finally reached the summit around seven that evening, we figured

[Storyteller]

the worst was over.

[Narrator]

We called our parents and told them everything was fine and that we were going to commence the hike down. But when we looked around, we saw only sheer drop offs and total darkness.

[Storyteller]

There was no way for us to

[Narrator]

find our descent, which is dangerously easy to miss even in daylight. Plus, the wind up top was blowing something fierce, making it equally hazardous to approach any steep drops. With no choice but to hunker down, we settled under an overhanging lip of rock below the summit to wait out the storm. We had what we were wearing. Goose down jackets, insulated pants, hats and

[Storyteller]

gloves, plus a little food and water.

[Narrator]

We prayed that it would be enough for us to survive. But despite our pleas to the Almighty, conditions soon worsened. Strong winds tore through our improvised shelter and our feet grew agonizingly cold. We took off our boots and socks and put our feet in each other's armpits, massaging our toes to keep the feeling in them. I couldn't get my mind off of thinking about how my parents would react to the news that we had died up there that night. That's when the severity of our situation started to really dawn on me.

[Storyteller]

We had been feeling pretty cocky up

[Narrator]

until this point, but now I was truly frightened. Temperatures dropped to minus 20F. With the wind chill that night, I stopped shivering, a sign of hypothermia. But Rory and I stayed positive. And I'm convinced, convinced that was the only thing that got us through that night. I must have drifted off because the next thing I remember was the sun's

[Storyteller]

warmth washing over us.

[Narrator]

Thankfully, the storm had passed, but the descent was still hard to find. We saw several ridges, and at the bottom of one we spotted what looked like East Cross Creek, which we'd Walked along two days before, we rappelled toward it, thinking that we were home free. But when we reached the creek, we realized that we had accidentally gone down the south ridge, the opposite direction of the trailhead. And the one thing we didn't want to do since at that point we had lost all of our cell service on the summit the night before, we worried about surviving. Now we were just annoyed with ourselves. Low on food and extremely tired. Still, we were confident that we would find our way out. Below the tree line, we managed to pick up a trail that took us to a spot we thought we recognized as the east side of the mountain. We weren't ready to admit that our delirious minds may have been playing tricks on us. We followed faint trails through the forest, turning here and there as the compass dictated. But we always ended up back where we started. We later found out locals call the area the Bermuda Triangle of the Rockies. Iron deposits in the rocks can throw off magnetic instruments, and our compass was taking us in circles. We knew that we should have stayed put to wait for rescue, but we couldn't.

[Storyteller]

With water soaked boots, it was either

[Narrator]

move or lose appendages to frostbite. Our optimism was running dry.

[Storyteller]

I would start to feel a frog

[Narrator]

in my throat, but in those moments,

[Storyteller]

you have to either crack a joke or cry.

[Narrator]

So we messed around, talking about girls, saying old Zeppelin songs, and laughed about whatever we could, any distraction to keep us going. As the sun went down on our second unplanned night out, we gathered tinder and took out our lighters. But to our absolute horror, they remained waterlogged with snowmelt. Despite our efforts to dry them, neither of us could get anything so much as a spark out of either of them. By this point, Rory was too weak to continue. So I piled pine branches on the snow for us to spoon on top of. We managed to laugh at a few cuddle jokes. But we were starting to realize that our families didn't know if we were alive. That made it tough to keep things light. Soon we both stopped shivering, and neither neither of us could feel our feet. Dude, we could die out here, he said. I'm okay with it because I'm still glad to not be on the couch playing video games. But this is much earlier than I thought it would be. I'm not ready, man. We laid in silence. Rory fell asleep with his head on his right hand hand, A position that would cut off circulation just enough to give him frostbite in his thumb. Again, temperatures dropped below freezing, and again we woke up in the morning, somehow still alive. We hadn't been hiking long when we saw a helicopter. It was distant, but for us it took up the whole sky. Numb, feet forgotten. Then we ran into a meadow and I waved a jacket and a trekking pole with a bright red hat on it. The chopper flew right past us. It circled back four more times before flying away. We felt like we had watched our last chance vanish. That's when we finally broke down. There was nothing to say. Rory just laid his head on my lap and we both sobbed. An hour later the helicopter returned and this time it came straight to us. We could not stop smiling. It was finally over. I was so elated I tried to hug a rescuer who just threw me into a jump seat and strapped me me in. We were told to look for bodies, he said.

[Storyteller]

As soon as we flew off, I

[Narrator]

could feel the adrenaline drain out of me. My whole body was in pain that I had been too numb to feel until now. But still, I had never felt better. It was honestly one of the lowest, then highest points of my entire life. On the night of New Year's Eve 2002, Rachel Moran, a resident of the British east coast city of Hull, was headed to a party. Like many of her peers, she intended to see out the year in style. She put on her best skirt, carefully applied her makeup before heading on foot to the nearby celebrations at her mother's house where her friends and family had festivities in full swing. She saw in the New Year with friends counting the seconds until the change of year. Like so many others up and down the country.

[Storyteller]

A few hours later, after hours of

[Narrator]

alcohol and dancing, Rachel decided to head home. But this was the final night of her short life. She would never be seen alive again. A court would later hear that Rachel was stabbed many times before her lifeless body was crammed for weeks in a tiny cupboard inside her killer's flat. The 21 year old aspiring singer was lured to the flat of a man named Michael Little in the early hours of New Year's Day, then brutally attacked from behind. The court was told the evidence obtained by various forensic pathologists showed that Michael Little had performed acts with her, but disturbingly enough, it was impossible to say whether this occurred before, before or after she died. It is alleged that he then wrapped the body in a thin bedroom curtain before concealing it in a small locked cupboard. Little, who was 23, of Nash Court, Hull, has pleaded not guilty to the

[Storyteller]

murder of the striking six foot tall

[Narrator]

blonde in the opening hours of January 2003, a crime that sparked a Massive police hunt and united the city in grief when the broken body was finally found. The search for Rachel began after she failed to return to the home she shared with boyfriend Mark Shepherd. Following the New Year's Eve party at her mother's home in nearby Hull Road. Rachel Moran left the family home to walk back to her own apartment at around 1:40am on New Year's Day. Prosecutor Jeffrey Marson QC told the court that Rachel hugged her mother Wanda and told her she would call her as soon as she arrived home. Wanda Moran would not see her daughter alive again. By tragic coincidence, Michael Little was making his way home along the same route as Rachel. Sometime after about 2:20am he lured Rachel into his flat. Shortly after they arrived, he attacked her with a large knife. Mr. Marson said that after Michael Little wrapped her body in the curtain and concealed it in the cupboard outside the

[Storyteller]

door to his flat, he set about

[Narrator]

cleaning up the vast amount of blood using bleach and paper towels. Over the course of the next week or so, Michael Little apparently attempted to see separate himself from the evidence of his crimes, disposing of various items of Rachel's personal property by throwing them into a nearby drain. Yet as Humberside police continued to investigate Rachel's disappearance, highly trained police divers found personal items such as trainers, handbag, passport, bra and a diary in the drain. The passport was a huge find and Little had made a serious mistake in disposing of it in the same manner as the other items. It clued police as to who exactly the items belonged to. As a result, they decided to search

[Storyteller]

the nearby groups of houses near to

[Narrator]

Rachel's Sax Court home and Michael Little's nearby flat just happened to be in the designated search area when police investigators arrived at his home. They began intensively searching his first floor flat but unfortunately found nothing in their initial attempts. They then asked for a key to the cupboard located near to his front door, a reasonable request, but one that raised extreme suspicion when he repeatedly claimed that he had no key to the cupboard after having accidentally misplaced it. Police were determined to search it thoroughly and eventually resorted to brute strength to tear the door from its hinges. Police on scene would later say that they smelled a kind of rotten meat odor coming from the cupboard and after moving various boxes found her decomposing body hidden inside.

[Storyteller]

It is thought that she had been

[Narrator]

stabbed stuffed inside the tiny cramped space for almost a month.

[Storyteller]

Prosecutor Jeffrey Marson QC told the court that Michael Little said that the body

[Narrator]

in the cupboard was her. Marson then quoted Little's statement to the police soon after they had uncovered the damning, rotten evidence. I need to get it off my chest. I've wanted to tell somebody from so long. Michael Little is thought to have said, I can't be normal. I must be evil. A normal person would not do this. The courtroom was shown CCTV footage of Rachel walking to her parents home on New Year's Eve and also of her walking home in the early hours of New Year's Day. She was heading home after speaking to her boyfriend who was at a party on a nearby council estate. CCTV footage showed her in a leather jacket, dress and white trainers walking past a local convenience store. The same camera picked up Michael Little walking in exactly the same direction and route as Rachel about a minute prior to the unfortunate victim. But a CCTV camera near Rachel's home showed that by a few minutes later, Little was walking around 40 seconds behind Rachel. This was overwhelming evidence that he had

[Storyteller]

followed her, maybe even stalked her for

[Narrator]

a little while before choosing his moment. Michael Little later claimed to investigating officers that Rachel had ran up to him and asked in a friendly manner if

[Storyteller]

she could walk with him because it

[Narrator]

was would make her feel safer. He then invited her to his flat just a few hundred yards from her own home, where they had a drink.

[Storyteller]

He is alleged to have told police

[Narrator]

that they had then argued and he backhanded her. He then claimed that she had slashed his arm with a small knife and that what followed had been acts of self defense on his part. Michael Little had been drinking with friends at the Goodfellowship Inn on New Year's Eve before attending a party. Leaving to return home at around 1am the defendant had drunk several pints of beer, Alco Pops and even a quadruple vodka. Faint bloodstains were found in the hallway of Little's home and zigzag patterns found by the front door matched Rachel's trainers. Little refused to answer police police questions. In interview, prosecutor Jeffrey Martian QC said it is clear the defendant was responsible for Rachel's death and that he is guilty of murder. Michael Little showed no emotion as a jury at Whole Crown Court found him guilty of the murder of Rachel Moran in the early hours of New Year's Day.

[Storyteller]

If ever there was a murderer deserving

[Narrator]

of life imprisonment, it is Michael Little.

[Storyteller]

I have taken my yearly journey to the woods to hunt since I was 14. Last year started just as every other one before had, but it would end much earlier and in a very different way than usual. Despite the weather being too warm for hunting, I was out at dawn on opening day like always, as the season drags on, the deer get more skittish, so starting as early as you can increases your chances. On the lease I had been hunting on for the past seven years, I had a small handful of preferred spots and this is where I was heading. This spot was a tree stand setting roughly 30ft high in an old oak that looked out across one of our three feed plots. I had had good luck there more than once and hoped to have it again. The drive out to this stand took about 15 minutes from my cabin, so I left an hour before dawn. I wanted to be on the stand

[Narrator]

just as the first bit of light broke.

[Storyteller]

As usual, I parked my four wheeler about 50 yards away and walked the rest of the way in. I'm not sure if it makes any real difference, but not making a bunch of noise right next to where I'd be hunting seems like a wise idea, so it's a practice I try to remember to do each time I hunt. Although I had been up over an hour and had a couple of cups of coffee, I was probably a little groggy. I have never been a mornings type of guy and once I retired I have gotten up when I woke up no certain time. So I slung my rifle onto my back and began to climb. About three steps from the top with the seat in sight, one of my feet slipped from the ladder and I fell about 25ft onto my back. Somehow my rifle ended up next to me rather than under. There was no pain at first, so I figured I would just get up and dust myself off. However, I discovered very quickly that at least one, if not both legs were broken. As I sat up to examine my legs, pain began shooting throughout my back and body. It appeared then that in addition to broken legs, I had a major back injury. My usual high pain tolerance was letting me down and the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. I knew in a matter of minutes I was going to be screaming in pain. I began feeling for my phone and soon found found it in my chest pocket. Luckily I didn't land on my chest right. Being out in the middle of nowhere didn't necessarily mean there wouldn't be any cell service in my neck of the woods. Cell towers are more common than trees. I dialed 911 and waited, but the call dropped. The pain was making me very nauseous and I was having a hard time concentrating. It took me a moment to realize I was going to need to move if I had any chance of getting help. I couldn't think of any other way. So I gritted my teeth and rolled over onto my stomach. The pain very nearly caused me to pass out, but the stars soon passed and I began pulling myself forward with my arms. I had made it around 15 yards

[Narrator]

before I was forced to take a break.

[Storyteller]

Once I had pulled myself together, I tried to call 911 again, but it was a no go. I looked around and noticed I was still under the trees, but there was a clearing not far away. I gritted my teeth again and pulled myself toward it. I had to take a couple of breaks, but eventually I was in the open. I crossed my fingers and pressed send. The wait was agonizing, but it finally began ringing and I was connected to a dispatcher. The pain made the wait for help to arrive seem even longer, but because of my location and clear directions, they made it to me within 30 minutes. As I laid there, I watched the sun rise, thinking how beautiful a scene it was to see. I only wished it was under better circumstances. By the time I was released from the hospital a few days later, I would have two broken legs, a broken back which really amounted to three smashed vertebrae and a mild concussion.

[Narrator]

The legs would just have to heal

[Storyteller]

with time, but with my back, I've had to have a couple of those vertebrae fused. That surgery was done just a few months before this year's hunting season started and you can be sure I was there waiting for the sun to rise on the first morning. One thing has changed however. For the time being, I'll be hunting from a blind on the ground. There's no way I'm going to go go another year with an empty freezer.

[Narrator]

This is the story of the day

[Storyteller]

I learned to really trust my instincts. What I refer to is nothing metaphysical physical, but rather an educated gut feeling based on our life lessons and general alertness. I say that because my family made sure to teach me about bad people, but I think it was my own instincts that potentially saved me from a terrible trauma. When I was around six or seven, my grandparents lived in a big city on an apartment building that had three apartments per floor. My grandma was good friends with the next door neighbor which was a middle aged woman named Marley. She lived with her also middle aged husband who I'll call Theo. When I say next door, I mean their door was glued to my grandma's. The corridor was small and cramped with a security metal door separating my grandma's and Marley's door from the rest. Since the town was very dangerous, this metal door served as extra protection for both apartments. Theo was a big Quiet man with a round belly. He had a classic mustache and never really visited my grandma's apartment when Marley did. Therefore, I don't think my parents nor grandparents were that familiar with him. I used to visit my family every weekend and sometimes my 5 year old cousin would be over as well. We were both generally quiet girls and we often played together around the apartment. Being the eldest, I was always given the responsibility to take care of my cousin. She could be very difficult to control sometimes, but I tried my best and thank God I did. One afternoon we were playing when my grandma announced that she was going out with Marley. I don't remember where my parents and granddad were, but they were not home. It was okay for me to stay a few hours by myself since my grandma wouldn't take long and my mom had taught me from an early age to be very independent. The apartment wouldn't be locked though, because the outer metal door would. My grandma used to say that if I ever needed any help, I could call Marley or Theo. I never wanted to actually need them because that would mean an emergency or something scary like that. But I felt a sense of safety knowing there were adults nearby. That sense of safety could not be more wrong. Everyone left and me and my cousin stayed by ourselves. It was really hot that day and we were wearing light summer clothes. I don't recall the exact reason, but sometime later my cousin decided she would go over to Marley's apartment and play over there. I guess she was bored or something like that and decided to venture over to the unknown, as she put it. Instantly, I knew this was a bad idea. I had never been over to their place. But something hit my gut the wrong

[Narrator]

way when my cousin suggested that.

[Storyteller]

I can't explain that feeling of dread, but I do remember how unwilling I was to go and how I tried to convince her otherwise. My cousin, however, didn't listen to me and just ran over, knocking on their door. I heard Theo's deep voice inviting us in and we did. The apartment itself was very standard for the 90s. Wooden furniture, bad art on the walls, dinner table with some ugly centerpiece, etc. Nothing creepy about it. What was creepy, though, was how Theo St stared at us from the start. He was sitting on a lounge chair, wearing a white buttoned shirt with the top buttons opened. He was sweaty and it showed on

[Narrator]

his clothes and hair.

[Storyteller]

I remember this in detail because I felt immediately grossed out. Without taking his eyes off of me, Theo greeted us, inquiring about our visit to the and whatnot. Trying to appear friendly. I held my cousin's hand as we stayed in the middle of the living room, kind of testing the ambiance. I wanted to bolt out of there, but my cousin was very curious and started to walk around, exploring the cabinets, tables, and decor. All the while, Theo was rambling on about things I don't really recall. My cousin was still exploring and answering things sporadically. Suddenly, Theo said something that made my chest explode with a sudden release of tension. He called me pretty, cute and polite. He asked if I wanted to sit on his lap and smiled. I hate to recall this moment because it felt like some kind of violence was imminent. My instincts were screaming that this was a dangerous place to be. Finally, I managed to say, no, thanks, and turned around. My cousin was nowhere to be seen. Anger and fear boiled inside of me. What if this huge, sweaty man decided to grab us? What if he did something bad or

[Narrator]

locked us up forever?

[Storyteller]

These were possibilities in my head. While I looked for my cousin and called her name, I finally found her looking at something in the kitchen. She asked why I was crying, and that's when I realized it myself. This was how nervous I felt around Theo. I think he might have been calling for us, trying to lure us back closer to him, but I don't remember. I guess he had a bad leg or knee because he didn't move much or get up. All I know is that I didn't run, but firmly grabbed my cousin by her arm and dragged her back to our grandma's apartment. I couldn't lock the door, so in my childish desperation, I created a barrier with a bunch of chairs and waited until my family came home. My cousin was upset, but she quickly forgot about it. When my mom arrived, I was very nervous, but managed to tell her. For some weird reason, I felt really ashamed. However, she wasn't mad at me, but was incredibly concerned and told me I did the right thing because any adult who did something like that was not to be trusted. Of course, we were consequently prohibited to go over to Marley and Theo's apartment or even talk to them. I didn't mind one bit. I actually welcomed this decision. So far, the encounter would have been creepy enough to any child or teenager. But it got worse a few years later, after my mom had a chance encounter with Marley when she was on vacation. My mom was traveling with my aunt and they were having breakfast at the hotel when they spotted Marley from a distance. Mom tells me that she didn't say hello, just pointed Marley out to my aunt and nothing more. But then my aunt casually mentioned that Marley was alone because her husband Theo had been arrested a few years back. He had been given a law long sentence.

[Narrator]

So the case was pretty serious.

[Storyteller]

He was arrested for being a predator. My mom was shocked because she had no idea he was in jail. She called me right away and told me I was already a teenager. But still felt a knot in my stomach remembering that afternoon with my cousin. Marley even tried to say hello to my mom, but. But my mom just ignored her and stepped away.

[Narrator]

It serves Marley right because the story

[Storyteller]

is that she knew what Theo did and kept quiet. To this day, whenever I think of that tense, dreadful encounter with Theo. I am drenched with disgust. But thankfully, also with relief. JonBenet Ramsey was born in 1990 in Atlanta, Georgia. The younger of two children of Patsy and John Ramsey. John Ramsey was a successful bill businessman who was the president of Access Graphics, a computer system company that would later be bought up and absorbed by the Titanic Lockheed Martin. So in 1991, John and Patsy moved their family to Boulder, Colorado, where Access Graphics new headquarters was to be located. Patsy Ramsey was a regular on the junior pageant scene and entered their daughter in various places. Child beauty pageants that were held in Boulder JonBenet would prove popular on the pageant scene. Winning the titles of America's Royal Miss Little Miss Charlevoix, Little Miss Colorado, Colorado State All Star, Kids Cover Girl and National tiny Miss Beauty. JonBenet's active role in child beauty pageants. And Patsy's reported pageant mother behavior. Were common knowledge among their friends, family and fellow contestants. According to the statements that Patsy gave to the authorities on December 26, 1996, she realized that her daughter was missing after she found a two page handwritten ransom note on the kitchen staircase. The hastily scrawled note, written in black marker pen, demanded $118,000 for their child's safe return. John pointed out to police that the amount was nearly identical to his Christmas bonus of the prior year. Which suggested that someone who would have had access to that information would be involved in the crime. Investigators looked at several theories behind the dollar amount demanded. And seriously confirmed considered employees at Access Graphics who may have known of the amount of John Pryor's bonus as suspects. By most standards, the ransom note was unusually long. The FBI told the police that it was very unusual for such a note to be actually written at the crime scene during the crime itself. This led police to believe that the note was staged due to it not having any fingerprints except for patsies and authorities who had handled it. And because it included an unusual amount of exclamation marks and initialisms. The note and a practice draft were written with a pen and pad of paper from the Ramsey home. According to a Colorado Bureau of Investigation report, there were indications that the author of the ransom note was Patricia Ramsey herself. However, a federal court ruled it highly unlikely that Patsy wrote the note, citing six certified handwriting experts. Meanwhile, John Ramsey made arrangements to pay the ransom as a forensics team was dispatched to the house. The team initially believed that the child had been kidnapped, and JonBenet's bedroom was the the only room in the house that was cordoned off to prevent contamination of evidence. Boulder police Detective Linda Arndt arrived early the next morning with the goal of awaiting the kidnapper's instructions. But there was never an attempt by

[Narrator]

anyone to claim the money.

[Storyteller]

It was then that detectives made a horrifying discovery. One of the plain clothes detectives asked John Ramsey and Fleet White, a family friend, to search the house to see if anything seemed suspicious. They started their search in the basement. John opened the latched door and was horrified to find his daughter's body in one of the rooms. JonBenet's mouth was gagged with duct tape. A nylon cord had bound her wrists and neck, while her torso was covered by a white blanket in an attempt

[Narrator]

to conceal the corpse.

[Storyteller]

But it could not mask the smell. John Ramsay picked up the child's body and took it upstairs. The autopsy revealed that JonBenet had been killed on Christmas Day by strangulation and skull fracture. There was no evidence of conventional abuse of any kind, although police refused to rule out a single sexual motive for the murder. Although no bodily fluid was found, there was evidence that there had been an injury to the girl's private parts. At the time of the autopsy, a pathologist recorded that it appeared her private area had been wiped with a cloth. A garrote that was made from nylon cord had been tied around JonBenet's neck and was apparently used to strangle her. The autopsy revealed a vegetable or fruit material, which may represent pineapple, which JonBenet had eaten a few hours before her death. Photographs of the home taken on the day when JonBenet's body was found show a bowl of pineapple on the kitchen table with a spoon in it. However, neither John or Patsy said they remembered putting the bowl on the table or feeding path. Pineapple to JonBenet. If this was true, then JonBenet had been fed by whatever stranger had murdered her. A highly disturbing detail indeed. Boulder police initially focused almost exclusively upon John and Patsy as suspects in their daughter's killing. But By October of 1997, police had over a thousand people in their in decks of persons of interest for the case. However, a grand jury was convened on September 15, 1998, the main being to consider indicting the Ramses for charges relating to the case. In 1999, the grand jury returned a true bill to charge the Ramses with placing the child at risk in a

[Narrator]

way that led to her death and

[Storyteller]

with obstructing an investigation of Rams murder based on the probable cause standard applied in such grand jury proceedings. But Boulder County District Attorney Alex Hunter did not prosecute them because he did not believe that he could meet the higher standard of proven guilt beyond a reasonable doubt that is required for a criminal conviction in the state of Colorado. However, many Years later, in 2015, Boulder Police Chief Mark Bechner disagreed with completely exonerating the Ramses, stating exonerating anyone based on a small piece of evidence that has not yet been proved to even be connected to the crime is absurd. He also stated that the unknown DNA from JonBenet's clothing has got to be the focus of the investigation at this point in time. An until one can prove otherwise, the suspect is the donator of that unknown DNA. In 2016, Gordon Coombs, a former investigator for the Boulder County District Attorney's Office, also questioned total absolution of the Ramses, stating, we all shed DNA all the time within our skin cells. It can be deposited anywhere at any time for various reasons. Reasons, reasons that are benign. To clear somebody just on the premise of touch DNA, especially when you have a situation where the crime scene wasn't secure at the beginning, really is a stretch. Stephen E. Pitt, a forensic psychiatrist hired by Boulder authorities, said the public exoneration of the Ramses was a big slap in the face to Chief Police Beckner and the core group of detectives who had been working on the case for years. However, it seems the twists and turns in the case never stopped. John Mark Carr, a 41 year old elementary school teacher, was arrested in Bangkok, Thailand on August 15, 2006 when he falsely confessed to murdering JonBenet. He claimed that he had drugged, assaulted and accidentally killed her. Yet authorities also said they did not find any evidence linking Carr to the crime scene. In his confession, Carr had provided only basic facts that were publicly known and failed to provide any convincing details. His claim that he had drugged JonBenet was doubted because the autopsy indicated that no drugs were found in her body. What's more, DNA samples that were taken from Carr did not match DNA found on JonBenet's body. We may never know who actually murdered JonBenet Ramsey, but one thing is certain. What should have been a jolly family holiday was turned into a living nightmare by a killer who may never face justice for their crime farms. It's.