In the summer of 2023, the jagged peaks of the Grand Tetons became the backdrop for a tragedy that would haunt an entire community. Amy Turner, a 24-year-old artist and outdoor enthusiast living in Jackson, Wyoming, had long dreamed of completing the Paintbrush–Cascade Canyon Loop, a demanding four-day trek through some of the most breathtaking terrain in the American West.
Amy was meticulous in her preparations, known among her friends and family for her careful planning and love of the wild. She packed an Osprey backpack, a lightweight tent, a down sleeping bag, a first aid kit, spare batteries, her treasured Nikon D750 camera, and even a Garmin InReach satellite beacon to ensure her safety. On the morning of August 12, she sent her mother a final message accompanied by a photo: she stood smiling with her pack strapped on, String Lake shimmering behind her, and wrote, “Off I go. The mountains are calling. Weather is perfect. Talk to you Sunday night.” Those words would be the last her family ever received from her. When Sunday night came and went without contact, her mother grew anxious, and by Monday evening, the National Park Service had launched a search.
Amy’s car was found at String Lake with dust settling on the windshield, and her tent was discovered near Holly Lake where she had planned to camp. Yet something was wrong—her heavy pack and boots were gone, leaving behind only her daypack, a bottle of water, and sunscreen. A search dog named Kaiser followed her trail up a steep, rocky slope before it abruptly ended, as though she had vanished into thin air. Witnesses recalled a lone man nearby, a hiker with a military-style pack and a cold, unsettling stare.
A composite sketch was circulated, but no name ever surfaced. After ten fruitless days, a storm swept through the Tetons, erasing fragile traces of her path, and the official search was suspended. While the world moved on, Amy’s father, Mark Turner, could not. A retired land surveyor, he turned his skills to a desperate mission, spending nearly every weekend over the next eleven months scouring the unforgiving wilderness. He mapped the land with precision, created grids, and searched tirelessly for the smallest sign—anything that could explain what had happened to his daughter. For nearly a year he found nothing but silence, until July 2024, when a clue surfaced in the most unthinkable way. Ranger David Chen, an ornithologist monitoring golden eagles, climbed to inspect a nest high on a remote cliff.
Through his binoculars he noticed flashes of turquoise and red woven into the nest structure. When he climbed closer, his heart sank. Among the sticks were scraps of nylon and a pair of women’s underwear with red trim, eerily matching Amy’s gear. The discovery suggested that an eagle had scavenged items from her remains. Forensic testing confirmed the belongings had been Amy’s. A specialized search team was dispatched to the area beneath the nest, and after days of searching, a cadaver dog named Odin alerted near a dense thicket at the base of a rocky slope.
Digging carefully, searchers uncovered the torn sleeve of a technical shirt and human bones. Dental records confirmed they belonged to Amy Turner. The relief of discovery quickly gave way to horror. Forensic evidence revealed Amy had not died from an accidental fall or exposure. She had suffered blunt force trauma to the skull, and DNA confirmed she had been sexually assaulted. Her death was no accident—it was murder. With this revelation, the case turned to homicide, and investigators revisited the witness sketch of the mysterious military hiker. A break came when a motel clerk in Pinedale recognized him as Robert Frasier, a 42-year-old drifter with a troubling past who had abruptly left town after Amy disappeared.
The FBI tracked him to a ranch in Montana, where they discovered a storage locker that contained a chilling “trophy box”: IDs from missing women, jewelry, strands of hair, and at the bottom, Amy’s Nikon D750 camera. Inside the camera was a memory card that told the rest of the story—landscape photos Amy had taken of her journey, followed by a sequence of images captured by Frasier himself, documenting him stalking, attacking, and killing her. Faced with this damning evidence, Frasier confessed. He admitted to following Amy from the trailhead, ambushing her while she fetched water, assaulting and killing her, and burying her body. He kept her camera as a trophy, part of a twisted pattern that linked him to disappearances in Colorado and Idaho. Frasier was convicted of murder, kidnapping, and sexual assault, and sentenced to life in prison without parole.
His confession led investigators to the remains of other victims, offering long-awaited closure to their families. For Amy’s loved ones, however, the wound could never fully heal. At a memorial service overlooking the Tetons, her father addressed mourners, saying, “I just did what any father would do. I couldn’t let my daughter be forgotten.” Amy Turner’s story now stands as a chilling reminder that the dangers of the wilderness are not always the storms, cliffs, or predators of the natural world. Sometimes, the greatest threat comes in human form, hidden behind the beauty of the mountains. For those who venture into the backcountry, her story is both an inspiration and a warning: prepare carefully, love the wild fiercely, but never forget that danger can appear when least expected.
