On August 17, 2018, the Anchorage Police Department opened a case that would ultimately expose one of the most disturbing crimes in Alaska’s recent history.
It began with a Crime Stoppers tip that was impossible to dismiss.
A woman named Alicia Youngblood contacted police with a chilling claim: a man she knew had confessed to murdering a woman in Anchorage — and had shown her a video of the killing. She identified him as Brian Steven Smith.
That afternoon, Youngblood walked into police headquarters, visibly shaken but determined. She met with detectives and carefully described what she had witnessed. Despite her fear, she handed over her phone and gave investigators full permission to extract its data. She was not protecting herself — she was trying to protect others. She wanted this man stopped.
What followed would uncover a case far darker than anyone imagined.
The Lost Girls is sharing Episode Three of the Harm Done Podcast to honor the courage of those who come forward, to expose the systems that allow violence to continue, and to remind us that sometimes justice begins with a single person choosing to speak.
We strongly encourage everyone listening to also follow Amber Batts and support her ongoing investigative work at:👉 https://theharmdone.substack.com/
Thank you, Amber, for your courage, your persistence, and your commitment to the truth.
We are sharing something deeply important — and we want to give full credit to the journalist who made this possible.
This episode features Alicia’s first full interview with the Anchorage Police Department, originally published by investigative writer Amber Batts on November 7, 2025.
The recording is an unedited, two-hour interview in which Alicia sat down with APD, turned over her phone, and told investigators everything she knew. Her only goal was simple: to get them to take her information seriously and look into the man she believed was responsible for murder.
This interview exists within a much larger and deeply troubling context.
The case of the Alaskan killer Brian Steven Smith — a white, South African-born man — stands as a chilling illustration of systemic failures within the Anchorage Police Department and the Alaskan justice system. His crimes reveal a pattern of negligence, dismissed warnings, and a profound disregard for the safety of marginalized communities.
From the mishandling of evidence, to the lack of accountability, to the repeated failure to listen to women who came forward, to the disinterest in protecting vulnerable populations — this case exposes the urgent need for policy reform and a fundamental overhaul in how justice is approached and delivered.
This interview matters because of what it shows:
how hard women had to fight to be heard,
how many warnings went ignored,
and how long danger was allowed to persist.
We strongly encourage everyone listening to also follow Amber Batts and support her ongoing investigative work at:
👉 https://theharmdone.substack.com/
Thank you, Amber, for your courage, your persistence, and your commitment to the truth.
This episode of Lost Girls is different.
So important, in fact, that we did not record an introduction.
We did not add commentary.
We did not interrupt.
We are sharing the work done by Amber Batts on the Harm Done Podcast.
The Alaskan killer, Brian Steven Smith, a white South African-born man, is a chilling clear illustration of systemic failures within the Anchorage Police Department (APD) and the Alaskan justice system, revealing a pattern of negligence, dismissed warnings, and a profound disregard for the safety of marginalized communities.
From the mishandling of evidence, the lack of accountability, the failure to listen to women who come forward, to the disinterest in protecting vulnerable populations, all highlight the urgent need for policy reform and an overhaul in the approach to justice.
Source: https://theharmdone.substack.com/
This episode of Lost Girls is different.
So important, in fact, that we did not record an introduction.
We did not add commentary.
We did not interrupt.
We are letting the evidence speak for itself.
On October 18, 2019, Anchorage Police Detectives Brendan Lee and David Cordie interrogated Ian Calhoun about his relationship with Brian Steven Smith—the now-convicted serial killer responsible for the murders of Alaska Native women Kathleen Jo Henry and Veronica Abouchuk.
That interrogation happened in two parts: first at Calhoun’s home, then later at the Anchorage Police Department.
By that point, Smith had already been arrested for Kathleen Jo Henry’s murder. During questioning, he confessed to killing Veronica Abouchuk the year before. What investigators needed to understand next was chillingly simple:
How much did Ian Calhoun know—and when did he know it?
According to interrogation footage, reports, and audio recordings, Calhoun was not a casual acquaintance. He was a friend. A drinking buddy. Someone Brian Smith trusted enough to communicate with openly. In early September 2019, that trust took a dark turn.
Calhoun told detectives that Smith met him at Forsythe Park and showed him what appeared to be a body in the back of his truck—covered by a tarp. Calhoun claimed he brushed it off as a sex doll, but later admitted he had a gut feeling it wasn’t. After seeing it, he didn’t call police. He didn’t leave. He didn’t confront Smith.
They went drinking.
Later, Smith came to Calhoun’s house.
Calhoun admitted to deleting text messages and an entire messaging app after Smith’s arrest—messages that included disturbing images and conversations. He acknowledged knowing more than he initially admitted. And yet, despite what he saw, what he deleted, and what he knew, Ian Calhoun has never been charged.
Under Alaska law, failure to report a violent crime against an adult is treated as a violation—punishable by little more than a $500 fine. A penalty that reflects just how little the system values silence when the victim is Indigenous, marginalized, or vulnerable.
This episode is not commentary.
It is not opinion.
It is documentation.
We believe it is essential for the public to hear this in full, without framing, without interruption, and without distraction.
Because Kathleen Jo Henry deserved better.
So did Veronica Abouchuk.
And silence should never be safer than doing the right thing.
To learn more and follow ongoing advocacy, visit “Arrest Ian Calhoun NOW” on Facebook.
Source: amberbatts.com
On today’s episode of The Lost Girls, with Amy Smith and LaDonna Humphrey, we’re telling the story of Michelle Louise Harley.
Michelle was just 22 years old when she vanished from Broward County, Florida, in the summer of 1989. A nurse. A young mother. A woman who never missed a call to check on her medically fragile son—until the day she left work to have lunch with an unidentified man and never came back.
Her car would surface months later in a Maryland salvage yard. The man last seen with her would die violently before he could ever be questioned. And Michelle? She was never heard from again.
This is a case layered with red flags, lost evidence, and decades of silence—one that raises uncomfortable questions about who is believed, who is protected, and who is allowed to vanish.
Stay with us.
Because Michelle Louise Harley is not just a missing person—
she is one of The Lost Girls.
In this episode, Amy Smith and LaDonna Humphrey investigate the 2007 disappearance of 46-year-old Roxanne Lacson, a Native Hawaiian, Chinese, and Filipino woman who vanished in Honolulu under circumstances that remain painfully unclear.
Roxanne was last seen on the morning of August 27, 2007, when her daughter dropped her off at her boyfriend’s home in Makakilo. Although she was homeless at the time and often stayed with friends or spent time along the Wai‘anae beach area, she never drifted far from the people she loved. Roxanne kept in regular contact with her eleven children and showed up for family gatherings — until suddenly, she didn’t.
After six silent weeks with no phone calls, no sightings, and no trace of where she might have gone, her children reported her missing. Since that day, there has been no evidence, no confirmed leads, and no answers.
Roxanne disappeared without a phone, without stability, and without the support she deserved — but not without people who loved her. Her case remains unsolved, and her family continues to wait for justice, truth, or even the smallest sign of what happened.
Join us as we revisit the known facts, the heartbreak, and the unresolved questions surrounding the disappearance of Roxanne Lacson.
In this episode, Amy Smith and LaDonna Humphrey explore the 2017 disappearance of Eva Gwendolyn “Gwen” Allen, a 67-year-old woman who vanished from Lithonia, Georgia under deeply concerning circumstances. Gwen, who lived in a group home and required continuous care due to bipolar disorder, was last seen around 1:30 a.m. on July 4th, 2017.
Despite her medical needs, her eyeglasses left behind, and a phone that showed signs of confused dialing in the days after she disappeared, no one has seen or heard from Gwen since. Her family believes she may have been disoriented and vulnerable when she walked away — and the silence that followed has been heartbreaking.
Join us as we break down Gwen’s timeline, the unanswered questions, and why this case still matters today. Her disappearance remains unsolved, and she deserves to be found.
Hailey vanished in late November 2024 — somewhere between certainty and speculation, between a Chevon station in Kelso and the miles of quiet Washington road that stretch into nowhere. She was last reportedly seen in South Kelso and at the Lexington Chevron. After that, nothing. No confirmed sightings. No arrests. No trail that hasn’t dissolved into uncertainty.
In this episode, we look closely at what we know — and what remains disturbingly unclear.
Hailey is described as 5’7”–5’9”, around 135 pounds, with brown hair and green eyes. She has ties throughout Cowlitz County and beyond — Castle Rock, Vancouver, Olympia — places that matter now because there are so few confirmed anchors left. Her loved ones describe her as someone who may have struggled, but she does not disappear like this. The silence is out of character. It is alarming. It is wrong.
Search teams have been everywhere they can think to look:
Rose Valley. Toutle. The brush along Ocean Beach Highway. Miles of backroads where headlights disappear into timber and no one hears you scream. Volunteers have walked fields, tracked riverbanks, knocked on doors, and spoken her name into every room that would listen. Social media has pushed her photo across digital highways. The community has refused to stand down.
And still, the questions echo:
Where is Hailey?
Who saw her last?
What happened after that final sighting in Kelso?
How does a woman with roots, connections, and a life simply fall off the map?
Tonight we bring Hailey’s story into the light — because people don’t vanish without reason, and women do not disappear quietly when we say their names out loud.
If you know something, say something.
Someone does.
It has now been six heartbreaking weeks since 13-year-old Wynter Wagoner vanished from her foster home in Orlando on October 14 — and for those who love her, every passing day feels heavier than the one before.
Wynter was living with a foster family at the time she disappeared, and her family insists this does not feel like a voluntary runaway case. Her father, Dusty Wagoner, says something about Wynter’s disappearance is different — unsettling in a way that has left them desperate for answers.
Her aunt, Haley Whitehead, believes Wynter may have been emotionally overwhelmed after a recent school change. She describes the family’s daily reality as a cycle of fear, anger, and helpless questioning.
“You shouldn’t have to imagine everything that could have happened or might be happening,” Haley shared.
Wynter’s mother, Summer Engle, is clinging to hope as the holidays approach — a time that now highlights Wynter’s empty place at the table.
“As a mother, you know in your heart if your child is okay,” she said. “It was so unexpected. I’m frustrated she hasn’t been found — especially with the holidays here.”
According to reporting from LEX 18, investigators with the Rockcastle County Sheriff’s Office have interviewed witnesses, reviewed video footage, and conducted multiple ground and drone searches. They continue to follow every lead but will not release details that could jeopardize the investigation.
Wynter’s family has a message for anyone who may know where she is — or even for Wynter herself, should she be somewhere able to see or hear them:
“If someone has her and is scared to let her go… just let her come home safe,” her father pleaded. “I would switch places with her in a heartbeat.”
Whitehead echoes that need for even the smallest sign of life:
“A voice message, a video clip — anything. Just give us something.”
Wynter is described as kind, gentle, and someone who wanted peace with everyone around her. Her family’s only wish as Thanksgiving arrives is simple, powerful, and urgent:
Bring Wynter home.
If you have any information regarding the disappearance of Wynter Wagoner, please contact the Rockcastle County Sheriff’s Office immediately. Her story matters. Her life matters. And someone, somewhere, knows something.
In this special episode of Lost Girls, we step away from a single case to confront a nationwide tragedy: the epidemic of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Relatives — known as MMIWR.
It’s a crisis rooted in history, perpetuated by silence, and fueled by systemic failure.
Across the U.S., Native women go missing or are murdered at rates exponentially higher than other groups. On some reservations, the murder rate is more than ten times the national average. Behind every statistic is a name, a face, a family shattered — and too often, no answers.
Today, we’re not just recounting what’s gone wrong. We’re honoring the fierce advocacy rising from Tribal Nations, survivors, and families who refuse to be ignored. We’ll explore how colonization, broken justice systems, and eroded sovereignty have created a perfect storm of vulnerability — and how grassroots movements, federal legislation, and unwavering voices are pushing back.
This isn’t just a Native issue — it’s a human rights issue. And it demands our collective attention.
Join us as we say their names, share their stories, and call for the justice they so rightly deserve.
Because every girl — every girl — deserves justice.
On September 18, 2019, Cheyenne Stannard vanished from Huntsville, Arkansas, under circumstances that raised far more questions than answers. Known for her consistent communication with family, Cheyenne's sudden silence was immediately alarming. The story offered by those closest to her didn’t add up—claims of her leaving on foot, heading to far-off states with no transportation or resources, defied logic and left loved ones desperate for clarity.
In this episode of Lost Girls, we explore the troubling details surrounding Cheyenne’s disappearance. With no confirmed sightings, no phone activity, and no contact in over four years, the case remains unsolved—and deeply unsettling. As we share Cheyenne’s story, we also amplify the voices of those still searching for her, holding onto hope and demanding the answers she deserves.
This is Lost Girls. And this is the story of Cheyenne Stannard.
She told her family she was coming home.She packed her bags.And then—April Beth Pitzer vanished.
In this episode, we dive into the haunting disappearance of April, a 30-year-old mother of two who went missing from Newberry Springs, California in 2004. She was supposed to be boarding a bus back to Arkansas… but she never made it.
Rumors of drug activity.A history of cooperation with law enforcement.And a desert full of secrets.
Join us as we unravel the tangled story of a woman who may have known too much—and trusted the wrong people. Interviews, leads, heartbreak—and questions that still don’t have answers.
What happened to April Beth Pitzer?
Taylor Barksdale's life was stolen in Madison County.
Her murder was brutal. Her case is unsolved. And her killer is still out there.
This is The Lost Girls. And this is Taylor Barksdale’s story.
In this haunting episode, Amy Smith and LaDonna Humphrey revisit the unsolved disappearance of 25-year-old Darla Harper, who vanished from her apartment in Gravel Ridge, Arkansas, on March 4, 1986.
When Darla failed to show up for work the next morning, a coworker discovered her three-year-old daughter alone in the apartment — with blood on the door and Darla gone. What followed was a decades-long mystery marked by disturbing clues, a child’s chilling testimony, and unanswered questions that continue to torment her family.
Victim: Darla Harper, 25
Missing Since: March 4, 1986
Location: Gravel Ridge, Arkansas
Circumstances:
Neighbors heard strange noises between 11:00–11:30 p.m.
Her daughter reported seeing “three men wearing funny hats” and said “Mommy was in a bag.”
A neighbor claimed to have seen Darla being dragged from her apartment.
Her car was later found abandoned nine miles away with blood and unidentified fingerprints inside.
Primary Suspect: Darla’s ex-husband, who was later accused of confessing to her murder by his second wife.
Evidence: Bone fragments were discovered during a 1990 search, but they were too degraded for identification.
Status: Still missing — no one has ever been charged.
Darla was a devoted mother, a hardworking IRS employee, and a woman with her entire life ahead of her. Nearly forty years later, her daughter still seeks answers — and justice remains out of reach. Her case stands as a reminder of how many women vanish without closure, their voices silenced but never forgotten.
If you have any information about the disappearance of Darla Harper, please contact the Pulaski County Sheriff’s Office at (501) 340-6601. Even the smallest lead could make a difference.
The Lost Girls is a short-form podcast by Amy Smith and LaDonna Humphrey, dedicated to honoring missing and murdered women and girls. Each episode highlights a different case — brief, powerful, and deeply human.
On July 25, 1985, sisters Rozlin Rochelle Abell (18) and Fawn Marlene Abell (15) left their home in Bethany, Oklahoma, to look for jobs. They never came back.
The girls were last seen hitchhiking near 59th and Rockwell, a habit they were known for—but this time, something went terribly wrong. Nearly four decades later, their family still waits for answers. Their Social Security numbers have never been used since that summer day, and no confirmed sightings have ever surfaced.
In this episode of Lost Girls, Amy Smith and LaDonna Humphrey revisit the mysterious disappearance of Rozlin and Fawn—two bright young sisters whose lives were abruptly stolen by silence. Together, they explore the timeline, the clues, and the lingering questions surrounding the case, while honoring the family’s enduring hope for justice.
Who: Rozlin Rochelle Abell (18) & Fawn Marlene Abell (15)
When: Last seen July 25, 1985
Where: Near 59th & Rockwell, Bethany, Oklahoma
Circumstances: Left home to look for jobs; seen hitchhiking; never returned
Status: Social Security numbers unused since 1985; case remains open and unsolved
The vulnerability of young women who hitchhiked in the 1980s
The long-lasting impact of disappearance on families
The importance of keeping cold cases in the public eye
How advocacy and storytelling can help bring awareness and new leads
If you have any information about the disappearance of Rozlin and Fawn Abell, please contact the Bethany Police Department or your local law enforcement agency. Even the smallest detail could help bring these sisters home.
In this haunting episode of The Lost Girls, hosts Amy Smith and LaDonna Humphrey take listeners deep into the heart of small-town Arkansas, where safety is supposed to be a way of life — yet three young women have vanished without a trace.
Madelin Tomlin (Hope, AR – 2015), Mercedes Toliver (Prescott, AR – 2016), and Destinee Bruce (Hope, AR – 2025) are names that echo through the quiet streets of two close-knit towns now united by tragedy and unanswered questions.
LaDonna and Amy explore the unnerving parallels between these cases — three women, all young and loved, missing within an 18-mile radius. Each disappearance is different, but all share one chilling commonality: silence.
In places where “things like that don’t happen,” these women’s disappearances demand attention — and action. Their stories remind us that justice delayed is not justice denied, and that every girl deserves justice.
Sources & Acknowledgments
We are deeply grateful to the following for information used in this episode:
The Charley Project – case summaries and historical records
NamUs (National Missing and Unidentified Persons System) – official case entries and identifiers
News Archives
If you are a family member with updates or corrections, please contact us so we can keep these stories accurate and current.
The Lost Girls Podcast is taking a short break!
We’re currently on vacation as we prepare to send our kids back to school and take some much-needed time to rest, refresh, and reflect. This break also allows us to thoughtfully respond to the hundreds of messages we’ve received from families asking us to share their loved one’s story.
We’ll be back at the end of August with a brand new season—one filled with powerful, important stories of Lost Girls who deserve to be seen, heard, and remembered.
Thank you for your continued support. We can’t wait to share what’s coming next.
Patricia disappeared from Albuquerque, New Mexico at 3:00 p.m. on June 17, 1969. She left her home in the 800 block of San Pedro Drive southeast to sell raffle tickets for the Elks Club. She returned home briefly to pick up her coin purse which she'd forgotten, then left again, and never returned. She was last seen by a neighborhood girl who waved to her on the street.
On this episode of Lost Girls, we’re stepping back to 1986—to a quiet neighborhood in Reseda, California—where a nineteen‑year‑old named Joyce Irene Walcott vanished in the middle of an ordinary day.
Joyce, who friends affectionately called Sneezie, had survived a devastating car accident that left her with scars and a reconstructed neck, a testament to her resilience. She was bright, determined, and hopeful for a new start. That April morning, she left her aunt’s apartment, job applications in hand, ready to take steps toward her future.
She walked to a nearby 7‑11 to drop off one application. Then she stopped next door for another. By the time she made her way to Winchell’s Donuts to meet friends, Joyce was still laughing, still making plans, still filling out paperwork. But somewhere between that donut shop and her aunt’s apartment—just two blocks away—Joyce simply vanished. Her application was never turned in. Her steps never traced back home.
Nearly four decades later, foul play is still suspected, and Joyce’s name is still whispered among the missing.
Join us as we revisit Joyce Walcott’s story—piece together her last known moments—and search for the answers that have eluded her family for far too long.
Listen now to Lost Girls. Her story deserves to be heard.
In this episode of Lost Girls, we dive into the haunting case of Darian Hudson—a bright, beautiful 23‑year‑old who vanished from Stillwater, Oklahoma, in 2017.
On October 21st, Darian made plans with her mother to move back home to Wichita, Kansas. But just days later, she was gone. Conflicting records list her disappearance between October 22nd and October 26th, but for this episode, we’ve chosen to focus on October 26th—the day witnesses last saw her walking near Country Club Drive and McElroy.
Weeks later, a disturbing clue surfaced: a man caught trying to use Darian’s debit card in Oklahoma City. He claimed he’d found it in a purse left on a concrete sewage container at a church construction site in Stillwater—back in October.
Where was Darian going that day? Who left her belongings behind? And why, after all this time, has she never been found?
Join us as we piece together the timeline, sift through conflicting details, and shine a light on Darian Hudson’s story. Because she’s more than a missing person—she’s a daughter, a friend, and a life that matters.
👉 Listen now to this episode of Lost Girls. Her story deserves to be heard.