Killer Stories with Harvey Guillén - “The Bone Collector” - The West Mesa Murders
Episode Date: April 1, 2019In early 2009, when Christine Ross set out on her morning walk in Albuquerque, New Mexico, the last thing she expected was to stumble across human remains. But within a matter of hours, the abandoned ...work site near her house had been turned into one of the most expansive crime scenes in history. Sponsors! Ring - Go to Ring.com/SerialKillers to get a special offer on a Ring Starter Kit. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Transcript
Discussion (0)
This episode is brought to you by ZipRecruiter.
Whether you're hiring for a role or searching for a killer,
the hunt can be exhausting.
When detectives looked and searched to find any kind of evidence
to find the person they were looking for,
like Jack the Ripper, the Golden State Killer, the Unit Bomber.
It's tedious work to find what you're looking for.
So, if you're hiring, I've got news for you.
You can skip the lengthy investigation
and the tiresome process of sorting through hundreds of resumes,
days. Just use ZipRecruiter. Try for free at ZipRecruiter.com slash killers because not only does ZipRecruiter have
the technology to match you with potential candidates quickly, it also just added a new feature that pushes
candidates who are qualified and interested in your role to the top of the list. They can even tell you
why they're interested, making it easier for you to get a sense of who they are. Cut through the
standard and get to the standouts.
ZipRecruiter. Four out of five employers who post on ZipRecruiter get a quality candidate within the first day.
And now you can try it for free at ZipRecruiter.com slash killers. That's ziprecruiter.com
slash killers. Meet your match on ZipRecruiter. This episode is brought to you by Shopify.
Bonnie and Clyde, the Lonely Hearts Killers, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. These are infamous criminal duels.
But you don't need to break any laws to find your.
perfect business partner because you have Shopify. It's the commerce platform that can help you with
literally everything, website design, marketing, shipping, and more. So start your business today with
the best partner, Shopify, and get that. Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com
slash killers. That's Shopify.com slash killers.
Yamava Resort and Casino at San Manuel
is California's number one entertainment destination
for today's superstars.
Catch the Jonas Brothers return to the Yamava Theater stage
on April 30th, the powerful vocals of Demi Lovato on May 17th
and the signature Southern Country Rock of Eric Church on July 19th.
Tickets on sale now at Yamavatheater.com
only at Yamava Resort and Casino,
celebrating its 40th anniversary.
You in? Must be 21 to enter.
Due to the graphic nature of this killer's crimes, listener discretion is advised.
This episode includes discussions of murder and assault that some people may find offensive.
We advise extreme caution for children under 13.
Just outside Albuquerque, New Mexico, a mesa rises over the Rio Grande Valley.
It's a vast and sprawling desert.
Once a sacred site for Native Americans and wildlife, this high desert plateau is not.
now littered with trash and tumbleweeds and dotted with trailer parks.
The hot sand gives way to a man-made oasis, new subdivisions with inviting names like Paradise Hills.
This is the West Mesa. On February 2, 2009, Christine Ross was making her way along one of its
long desert roads, taking her dog Ruka for their regular walk.
The area had recently been leveled for a new neighborhood.
And on this particular walk, Ruka had been acting strangely.
He sniffed obsessively at the same patch of ground, pulling Christina along.
As she moved toward the spot where Ruka was pawing the dirt,
she then watched as the dog uncovered a large bone.
The bone didn't look like the animal bones they sometimes found on their walks.
It was too long.
Christine told a reporter, quote,
It didn't look normal.
Our gut instinct told us it was.
wasn't supposed to be there, end quote.
Christine snapped a photo of the bone and texted it to her sister, a local nurse.
Soon, Christine's sister confirmed a terrifying suspicion. It was a human femur bone.
Christine had just stumbled onto the sight of a shallow grave.
And with it, one of the largest, most heinous crime scenes in American history.
I'm Greg Polson. This is serial killers on the podcast,
network. Every Monday, we dive into the minds and madness of serial killers. Today, we will examine
the case of the West Mesa Bone Collector, a series of 11 unsolved murders, where the victim's
bones were all found buried on Albuquerque's now infamous West Mesa. I'm here with my co-host,
Vanessa Richardson. Hi, everyone. At Parcast, we're grateful for you, our listeners. You allow us to
do what we love. Let us know how we're doing. Reach out on Facebook.
Facebook and Instagram at Parcast and Twitter at Parcast Network.
And if you enjoy today's episode, the best way to help us is to leave a five-star review wherever
you're listening. It really does help. We also now have merchandise. Head to Parcast.com
slash merch for more information. On February 2nd, 2009, after Christine Ross and her dog Ruka
found a human femur bone in the West Mesa Desert, Christine immediately,
immediately contacted police.
The bone she discovered was the first of many that authorities would find in the area.
Investigators would take weeks excavating the mesa, eventually unearthing the remains of 11 different women,
most of whom were known sex workers and drug users.
The similarities in their lifestyles and their remains had investigators alarmed.
The victims had all been buried between 2003 and 2005 in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
The killer repeatedly targeted sex workers between the ages of 15 and 32, brutally murdered them,
then buried their naked bodies in shallow graves in the expansive wasteland of the West Mesa.
This was undoubtedly the work of a serial killer, a murderer who has since come to be known as the West Mesa Bone Collector.
Authorities have been searching for the bone collector for a decade, but chasing a phantom killer with a
The 15-year head start is no easy task, and harder still when the crime yields little evidence.
There were no fingerprints, no witnesses, and no DNA at the scene, other than the victim's bones.
Detectives were grasping at smoke.
In this special one-part episode, we will discuss the case of the West Mesa Bone Collector,
including its 11 victims, potential suspects, and where the case stands today.
The West Mesa case is probably the most famous unsolved murder spree in New Mexico,
largely because it revealed a dark side of Albuquerque that many citizens had chosen to ignore.
Albuquerque is a sleepy southwestern city of half a million people,
but the rate of violent crime there was more than double the national average in the early 2000s.
Much of that crime could be attributed to Albuquerque's notorious war zone neighborhood,
a section of the city made up of housing projects and sex shops near the University of New Mexico,
frequented by sex workers and drug dealers.
In the early 2000s, rumors started circulating in the war zone that Albuquerque had its own Jack the Ripper,
a psychopath prowling the streets and brutally murdering sex workers.
In 2004, Cinnamon Elks, a sex worker who often worked in the war zone, heard a chilling story.
She told friends that there was a dirty cop chopping off the heads of sex workers
and burying them on the West Mesa.
Soon after, she disappeared.
Almost like a doomed self-propathy, five years later,
Sinema and Elks' remains were found and identified,
buried in the grit of the West Mesa Desert.
As shocking as the idea of a modern Jack the Ripper may be,
it's not a new concept.
sex workers have historically been the targets of brutal crimes,
especially as victims of serial killers.
Vanessa is going to take over on the psychology here and throughout the episode.
Please note, Vanessa is not a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist,
but she has done a lot of research for this show.
Thanks, Greg.
A 2011 study by Purdue University researcher Kenna Quinnette
found that those serial murders in the U.S. have declined in recent decades,
those that do occur disproportionately target women and particularly sex workers.
Since 1985, 70% of serial murder victims have been women in their 20s and 30s,
and nearly half of those victims were sex workers.
Cereal killers who target sex workers tend to amass a greater number of victims
than those who target non-sex workers,
and they generally get away with their crimes for longer periods of time.
Stephen Eger, a criminology professor at the University of Houston Clear Lake in Texas, and an FBI consultant, calls these victims the less dead.
He says, quote, as far as the public is concerned, they're less alive because they tend to be the marginalized groups in society, drug addicts and sex workers.
There's an attitude that permeates the press and the public that reduces pressure on police to solve the crime, at least initial.
until you've got a number of victims."
And that is exactly what happened in the case of the West Mesa murders.
In 2005, four years before Christine Ross accidentally discovered the first bone,
one Albuquerque detective had already noticed the early signs of a serial killer,
long before authorities took action.
Ida Lopez was Albuquerque's lone missing persons detective.
In her first few years on the job, from 2005 to 2005,
to 2007, she began to notice a trend.
Sixteen sex workers reported missing between the years 2003 and 2006.
They had simply vanished into thin air, and nothing had been done, and they all had eerily
similar backgrounds.
The missing women were between the ages of 15 and 32.
Almost all of them were Latinx.
But what struck Detective Lopez as particularly odd was that they resembled.
each other in appearance, regardless of ethnicity.
Almost all of the women were relatively young and petite, with long dark hair.
To police, Ida's observations were nothing more than a list of missing street hustlers.
They dismissed her concerns out of hand.
In fact, the loved ones of these 16 missing women have claimed that authorities made no effort
to find the women after they went missing.
Instead, police told concerned relatives that the men were not.
missing women were adults and had no obligation to stay in touch with their families.
Police referenced their high-risk lifestyles as an explanation.
These kinds of women often dropped off the map.
Many were addicted to heroin and had multiple run-ins with police, either through drug use or sex work.
As Jolene Gutierrez-Kruger of the Albuquerque Journal wrote,
the disappearance of these women wasn't news to police, as they weren't a blonde-haired
blue-eyed all-American college student inexplicably snatched from the nice part of town.
But Ida knew better. Before her promotion to the missing persons department, she worked as a
uniformed officer patrolling the war zone, and specifically its sex workers. She even posed as a
sex worker herself in sting operations. She got to know these women personally and learned the
network of women working the streets at the time of the disappearances. She knew some of them were
also police informants. Many were mothers. Their families have described them as spirited,
loving, hopeful women. Those same families were left devastated by their disappearance.
Ida had empathy for the struggles and felt called to help. Despite the lack of support from her
department, Ida embarked on a small-scale, one-woman investigation. For years, she kept contact
with the missing women's families, gathered information and leads,
and even took to the streets to interview other sex workers who may have known them.
It's there that Ida heard the same sinister gossip repeated by Cinnamon Elks years before.
Different women told her that some of the women on her list had been murdered.
Their bodies dumped in the desert west of town.
But the mesa was too large an area to launch a search based upon just a rumor on a list.
So Ida's work was ignored.
For years, the case went nowhere.
Then on February 2nd, 2009, Detective Lopez's darkest suspicions were confirmed.
Christine Ross called into the Albuquerque Police Department to report the femur bone she had stumbled across with her dog.
Human remains were finally found on the West Mesa.
Suddenly, the hazy rumors floating around the war zone held much more weight.
That same night, police arrived on the scene, and within weeks,
a huge task force of over 40 investigators was assembled.
Teams of excavators were stationed at the crime scene,
populating the area with vans, tents, lights, and machinery.
They combed the West Mesa around the clock for remains.
It was a mammoth undertaking and quickly became one of the country's largest crime scenes.
The area was equivalent to 75 football fields.
The task was made even more difficult as the previous developed,
on the land had broken up and scattered the bones across the vast landscape.
Investigators dug down as far as 15 feet, and in some areas even hand-sifted for evidence.
The uncovering of remains had to be done with the utmost care. Any piece of evidence found,
no matter how minuscule, could lead them to the murderer.
The story of the bodies discovered on the West Mesa held the people of Albuquerque
wrapped for months. It exposed the city's don't.
dark underbelly, wherein young women had been vanishing for years with almost no one paying attention.
And Albuquerque's citizens were panicked, especially those who lived in the new subdivisions
recently built on the West Mesa, virtually on top of the crime scene.
It's in my backyard, basically, so I'm, you know, being a female and having two young children,
it makes me nervous. I have people making jokes, you know, telling me to have a sandbox in my
backyard to make sure my kids don't dig too deep. And with the rising public alarm, police were under
even more pressure to solve the case. The pace of the investigation became frantic, and what was once
a missing person's cold case quickly evolved into a feverish manhunt for a depraved killer.
It was the most horrific murder Albuquerque had ever seen, and the first serial murder ever dealt with.
The case was dubbed Albuquerque's Crime of the Sentencing.
Within three months, the bones of 11 different victims and the unborn child of a victim who was four months pregnant were unearthed.
It took police a year to identify all the remains, and ultimately, 10 of the 11 victims identified had also been on Detective Ida Lopez's list of 16 missing sex workers.
As investigators continued to dig, they dove into the victim's pasts.
Detectives interviewed 200 women who were working the streets the same years as the victims.
Through the sex workers who survived them,
the police learned that the victims had largely been driven to sex work out of desperation and struggles with addiction.
Most were living in and out of recovery, but actively working to better themselves.
The first of the victims to be identified was 26-year-old Victoria Chavez,
who was last seen by her family in 2003.
In the months before her disappearance, Victoria had been living at home, attempting to get clean.
She'd been working at a local burger joint and thinking about a career as a nurse.
After Victoria, there was Julie Nieto, 23, and the mother of a little boy.
Julie had fallen into drugs at the age of 19,
and Julie's mother struggled repeatedly to get her daughter into treatment.
Julie had been missing since 2004.
The oldest victim was Cinnamon Elks, 133.
the woman who had spoken about the rumors of the killer,
decapitating women and burying them on the West Mesa.
Cinnamon was a veteran sex worker and friends with at least three of the other victims,
including Victoria and Julie.
Cinnamon was also friends with 22-year-old Michelle Valdez,
who had been missing since 2005.
Michelle was four months pregnant at the time of her disappearance
and left behind a young son and daughter.
Monica Candelaria,
was a 21-year-old mother who went missing in 2003.
Veronica Romero, 27, was reported missing on Valentine's Day in 2004.
Doreen Marquez was 27.
She'd been missing since 2003 and was the mother of two young daughters.
Virginia Cloven, 23, missing since 2004, was driven to the streets
after her boyfriend fell into a coma and they lost their home.
Selania Edwards, 15, was the youngest victim found,
a runaway from foster care in Oklahoma with no family or ties to New Mexico.
She was the only victim not on Ida Lopez's original list of missing women.
23-year-old Evelyn Salazar disappeared in 2004,
after leaving a family party to go to the park with her younger cousin.
Evelyn left behind a young daughter.
Evelyn's young cousin, 15-year-old Jamie Borrella, was the last body to be identified.
It seemed impossible that someone could get away with these 11 murders and remain undetected for years.
Whoever the killer was, one thing was for certain.
They were intelligent, organized, and ruthless.
In a moment, how the West Mesa Bone Collector has managed to evade authorities to this day.
Kayak gets my flight, hotel, and rental car right,
so I can tune out travel advice that's just plain wrong.
Bro, Skycoin, way better than points.
Never fly during a Scorpio full moon.
Just tell the manager you'll sue.
Instant room upgrade.
Stop taking bad travel advice.
Start comparing hundreds of sites with kayak and get your trip right.
Kayak, got that right.
Have no fear.
Chosen Foods is here to defend your favorite foods from
the forces of seedy oils and sketchy ingredients. With cooking oils, salad dressings, and mayo,
all powered by the good fats from 100% pure avocado oil and simple delicious ingredients. Chosen foods.
Now, back to the story. Though police successfully identified the 11 known victims of the West Mesa
Bone Collector in 2010, the identity of the killer still had authorities mystified.
In one year, no witnesses had come forward. And due to the age of the remains,
and the killer's careful planning,
there was virtually no forensic or DNA evidence to go on.
Given the victim's shared background of drug use and sex work,
in tandem with the location of the bones,
authorities began assembling a description of their suspect.
Soon, FBI profilers were brought in to assist.
The FBI concluded that the killer was most likely a male, age 35 to 50,
working alone.
The killer would have also lived alone or was away from home for extended periods of time.
They believed he would have had previous smaller run-ins with the law and a history of hiring sex workers.
It was a typical profile for a killer and a description that literally fit hundreds of men in Albuquerque.
For the public, the details of the crimes are even hazier.
The victim's causes of death are unknown to anyone besides the police.
authorities have chosen not to publicly reveal this information in order to use it as a sort of password
that would allow them to weed out anonymous tipsters with false information.
Anyone who calls in knowing the correct murder method is regarded as a legitimate source and taken seriously.
Whether or not the victims were decapitated, like the rumor cinnamon ox had heard on the streets before her disappearance,
is unknown to the general public. Instead, their deaths were generically labeled,
and presented to the public as homicidal violence.
But while the details of the murders themselves are vague,
one pattern of the bone collector's crimes is strikingly clear, his victims.
The bone collector had a type, which can also act as a window into his psyche.
In 2009, the FBI used a dichotomous classification of male serial killers
that organized murderers into two major groups,
those who were organized and those who were disorganized.
According to Marie A. K. Helene and other researchers' 2011 article in the Journal of Investigative Psychology,
this dichotomy includes four classifications that most killers fall under,
visionary, mission-oriented, hedonistic, and power-control-oriented.
Depending on the killer, there's often overlap.
In the case of the West Mesa Bone Collector, the consistency in his vision,
victims and their body's location would classify him as an organized killer.
Like we previously mentioned, all the victims were young women, almost all sex workers, and
mostly Latinx. This leads us to categorize the West Mesa Bone Collector further as a predominantly
mission-oriented killer. In his 1985 article entitled Profiles in Terror, the Serial
Murderer, R.M. Holmes describes mission-oriented killers as having a
goal to eliminate specific groups of people they deem unacceptable, whether they be of a certain
ethnic group, religion, or even the homeless. But sex workers in particular are very common
victims of mission-oriented killers. This type of murderer operates on a sense of righteousness
that they believe justifies their actions. They would consider sex workers to be immoral
and corrupt and see themselves as doing God's work or the work of another higher power.
To this type of killer, their crimes are a duty, not a pastime.
However, the bone collector doesn't fit into this category perfectly.
Many mission-oriented killers are fanatically engaged in a political or religious quest
to rid society of evil.
But without further evidence, we can't assume that the bone collector was any sort of organized fanatic.
Though he undoubtedly had a hatred for sex workers,
his urge for murder could also have been entrenched in a desire for pleasure.
or control, both of which may lead us to define him as having overlapping tendencies as a hedonistic
or power control-oriented killer. This is a type of profile used for killers like the Long Island
serial killer, Joel Rifkin, who admitted to FBI that he harbored sexual fantasies involving
strangulation for years and often wondered what it would be like to carry them out in reality.
When he was ready to try, Rifkin went where he could find victims who were easily
attainable, yet kept low profiles. He went to the streets.
So perhaps the bone collector's motivation for killing sex workers lies in a much simpler
explanation. They were easy targets. Vulnerable and oftentimes desperate. Once they disappeared,
few would take notice. In 2011, with no substantial evidence, no witnesses, and only a vague
criminal profile, Detective Ida Lopez and the team of investigators,
had no tangible leads on the West Mesa Bone Collector,
so they asked themselves a question,
what kind of man is capable of stalking,
brutally murdering, and disposing of 11 or more women
without anyone being the wiser?
They had more than a few ideas.
Police began compiling timelines for potential suspects
to see if they aligned with the murders.
They also executed a slew of search warrants
on specific suspected perpetrators.
and conducted scores of interviews.
Detectives looked into dozens of locals
who had a recorded propensity
toward violence against women.
In 2009, police chief Ray Shultz
told the Albuquerque Journal
that suspects included 60-year-old
Lou Fred Reynolds,
a pimp who had recently died of natural causes,
as well as members of Albuquerque's
well-established 18th Street and Los Padillas gangs,
who used sex workers as drug mules,
and later killed them.
Theories also included gangs whose initiation rituals
required murdering women.
They even entertained the idea
that their murders were the work of hitmen.
They wondered if the hitmen were working for politicians
trying to cover their tracks.
Then there was Ron Irwin,
the only suspect considered outside of New Mexico.
Irwin was a slightly built man
who mostly kept to himself.
He was a photographer from Joplin, Missouri,
who frequently visited and documented the New Mexico State Fair,
an event notoriously frequented by sex workers and Johns,
and held very near to the crime scene.
Police raided and confiscated hundreds of photos and documents
from Irwin's home and businesses in Missouri, scouring for evidence.
But ultimately, they couldn't tie him to the murders.
Irwin later told reporters that he was devastated by the suspicion
that he was the West Mesa killer.
For the next three years, investigators followed dead-ed in leads
and searched desperately for evidence that wasn't there.
Detective Ida Lopez had remained on the case for almost a decade,
tirelessly championing the West Mesa victims and their families.
But in 2014, after years of work with no progress,
Lopez moved out of state and retired.
After Ida Lopez's retirement, police continued to scour a war.
wide range of suspects. They looked deep into their records, specifically searching for a dark
history of violence against women, but no one seemed to match the depravity of the bone collector's
profile. That is, until 2015, when two names rose to the surface. Detectives felt they had
finally narrowed in on the West Mesa Bone Collector, and with the news, Detective Ida Lopez
left her short-lived retirement and returned to the case. They finally,
finally had viable suspects.
Their names were Lorenzo Montoya and Joseph Blair.
Authorities had their eyes trained on Lorenzo Montoya
since the beginning of the West Mesa murder case.
Montoya was a short, powerfully built man
with an equally powerful temper
that he preferred to take out on women.
According to his girlfriend,
Montoya was a domestic abuser who frequently beat her.
She told authorities that he had done gross,
things to her, but didn't go into further detail. She went on to relay that Montoya had threatened,
quote, to kill me and bury me in Lyme, end quote. An oddly specific threat, strikingly similar to the
fate of the West Mesa victims. However, Montoya's history of violence did not stop there. Police also
knew him to be extremely aggressive with sex workers. Lorenzo Montoya fit the FBI profile for the West
Mesa Bone Collector almost perfectly. He was an Albuquerque man in his 30s who lived alone and had a
criminal history of hiring sex workers. Montoya frequently cruised Albuquerque's Warzone neighborhood
for women. His first sex work-related arrest was in 1998 when he picked up an undercover detective
posing as a sex worker. Montoya offered her $40, and the detective took him to a motel room
where he was promptly arrested.
But this did little to deter him.
Montoya continued soliciting sex,
and police kept him on their radar of Johns to watch.
Just one year later, he was charged with sexually assaulting a sex worker.
In 1999, detectives watched Montoya as he picked up a 23-year-old woman
and then followed his car down a dark, dead-end road near the airport.
What they witnessed was,
horrific. As the encounter unfolded before them, Montoya's behavior suddenly took a dark turn.
Montoya forced himself on the woman, appearing to strangle her as he raped her.
Officers intervened, catching Montoya in the act. He was arrested and charged with sexual assault
when police found a chilling detail. Montoya only had two dollars in his wallet at the time.
He had never planned to pay the woman. The woman told police,
that she believed Montoya would kill her
and that she could tell he enjoyed what he was doing.
But she ultimately declined to testify in court,
and the case was dismissed.
This is a common occurrence in cases of sexual assault.
According to psychotherapist and sexual abuse specialist,
Beverly Engel,
roughly 75% of victims of sexual crimes
don't report their abuse at all.
Women especially tend to avoid the harasser,
deny or downplay the gravity of the situation,
or attempt to ignore, forget, or endure the behavior.
The fear of the consequences of confronting an abuser
is also a major obstacle for many victims.
And in the case of the sex worker Montoya attempted to assault,
this was most likely twofold.
Testifying not only exposed her to potential retaliation from Montoya,
but it also forced her to admit being complicit in illegal sex work,
In her mind, testifying may have harmed her more than it could help.
And so, Montoya was free to roam the streets of Albuquerque,
though police continued to keep intermittent surveillance on his activities.
For years, he continued to pick up sex workers.
Sometimes these encounters were perfectly typical,
but as officers learned later, others were not.
After discovering the remains on the West Mesa,
police interviewed a woman who was close with some of the victims.
She told police that she had been choked and raped by Montoya
after he picked her up in 1995.
She recalled what he said to her as she gasped for air.
Quote, he told me, you're lucky, I was going to kill you, end quote.
As the years came and went, Montoya got bolder and bolder.
And on one December night in 2006, he pushed his limits.
as far as they could go.
Next, the chilling encounter that made Montoya
police suspect number one.
This is Euphoria Calvin Klein,
the new elixir collection,
featuring three perfume intense scents,
inspired by a unique orchid accord,
paired with vanilla,
each with its own distinct attitude,
each with its own universe,
bold elixir, sensual,
woody, addictive,
magnetic elixir,
sweet and romantic like a lingering touch,
solar elixir,
A radiant expression of joy.
Ultra concentrated for amplified impact and lasting power.
Find your euphoria.
Discover the euphoria elixir collection by Calvin Klein.
Zootopia 2 has come home to Disney Plus.
Let's go.
Get ready for a new case.
We're going to crack this case and prove for decoratist partners of all time.
New friends.
You are Gary Desnake.
And your last name?
The snake.
Dream team.
Hit new habitats.
Zootopia has a secret reptile population.
You can watch the record-breaking phenomenon at home.
You're clearly, working at it.
Zootopia 2.
Now available on Disney Plus rated PG.
Now back to the story.
In December 2006, almost three years before the West Mesa victims' remains were found,
39-year-old Lorenzo Montoya started a conversation in a chat room with 19-year-old Sharika Hill.
It was 2 a.m., and Cherika was working with a service called Candy Shop Escorts.
Montoya messaged her and they began chatting.
Montoya invited Sharika to his home, a trailer in a park located west of the city,
where Sharika would dance for him.
They agreed to meet the following evening.
What happened next was the work of an incredibly organized killer,
a violent and orchestrated plan that changed the course of the entire West Mesa murder case
years before the first bones were found in the desert.
Before Shariqa came over, Montoya drove his rental car to his local Macy's department store
and made a seemingly normal purchase, a new comforter and a set of blankets.
He already had everything else he needed.
Later that night, Shurika Hill arrived at Montoya's trailer with her boyfriend,
18-year-old Frederick Williams.
Williams parked his car near the trailer while Shurika went inside,
and waited.
After an hour, Williams became concerned.
What should have been, maybe a 30-minute encounter
had stretched out far longer than he anticipated.
Williams left his car and brought his gun,
preparing for a fight.
But what he found was far more horrifying than what he imagined.
As Williams approached the trailer, Montoya walked out,
dragging a blue blanket behind him.
He struggled with the blanket's weight,
pulling it through the dirt and toward the open trunk of his car.
That's when Williams realized what Montoya was dragging.
It was Sharika's body.
Williams started screaming at Montoya.
What was he doing with Sharika?
What did he do to her?
Williams demanded answers.
But instead of responding, Montoya dropped her body and ducked behind a nearby fence.
Williams pulled out a cell phone to call the police.
But Montoya was frantic.
he needed to get to Williams before he led police to the scene.
Montoya drew a gun, but Williams shot first.
Lorenzo Montoya, one of the West Mesa Bone Collector's premier suspects, died on the scene.
When police arrived, they found gruesome evidence of a methodical killing.
Sharika Hill's legs, knees, and arms were bound together by duct tape and cord,
and thick layers of duct tape were wrapped tightly around her neck.
with a strand extending like a leash.
It was a unique method of binding
that gave investigators the impression
that Montoya had either planned the kill extensively
or perhaps used the tactic before.
In a trash bag in the trunk of Montoya's rental car,
police found an unrolled condom, a pillowcase,
and Cherika's belongings,
including her cell phone, lip cloths,
and the black crop jacket she had worn into Montoya's trailer.
Inside the trailer, investigators found hardcore pornography, multiple guns, and rolls of duct tape,
including one roll kept on his bedside table.
But by far the most disturbing items found there were his homemade videotapes.
On the tapes, the camera is often hidden in a cabinet in Montoya's living room.
In one tape, the camera rolls as two women, who appear to be sex workers, engage in sex acts with Montoya.
In another tape, Montoya is having sex with an unknown woman when the image suddenly goes black.
In the following scene, the camera is focused on Montoya's bedroom wall.
The camera doesn't capture what's happening in the room, but the tape's audio does.
Off screen, the camera records minutes of rustling, as well as a few very distinct sounds,
trash bags being opened and tape being pulled from a roll.
Two materials explicitly used in the murder of Sharika Hill.
To investigators, these were undeniably the sounds of Lorenzo Montoya preparing to dispose of a body.
Police sent the videotapes to the FBI for enhancement, but they haven't been able to determine who the woman was, or exactly what Montoya was doing off screen.
For years, the tapes sat gathering dust in the Albuquerque Police Department offices, but the suspicious activity they were,
recorded, sat fresh in the minds of detectives. And when investigators began creating a list of
suspects for the West Mesa killings, Montoya rose to the top. And for more reasons than just the tapes,
while comparing the timelines of the West Mesa murders with Lorenza Montoya's, investigators identified
two major details that linked Montoya closely to the identity of the bone collector.
First, detectives noted that the sharp increase in missing women that had
begun in 2003, stopped almost entirely after Montoya's death in 2006. A detail they confirmed
by using satellite images of the West Mesa taken the same year. These images revealed a specific
spot in the desert that appeared to be the fresh grave of the last victim buried in 2005,
less than a year before Montoya was shot. Satellite imaging helped investigators immensely,
as they charted areas on the West Mesa
where potential grave sites were created
between 2004 and 2006.
Albuquerque Police Chief Ray Schultz
explained this method to the press in 2009.
We're having to take topographical satellite
and aerial mapping that was done
five, six, and ten years ago
and do overlays with the existing terrain.
The few hazy satellite images of the area
showed tired treadmarks
that tracked throughout the West Mesa
to different grave sites where the bone collector buried as victims.
But one satellite image held a shocking clue,
tire marks that lead from the grave site to Lorenzo Montoya's trailer.
Montoya lived less than three miles away from the crime scene.
According to author Kim Rosmo's book, Geographic Profiling,
serial killers will employ various attack styles when seeking victims.
These styles greatly influence the locations of the crime
and where the body is ultimately disposed.
Lorenzo Montoya's murder of Sharika Hill
would be best described as an ambush attack,
a method used in places where the killer
has a great deal of control.
For example, their place of work,
a natural area they're very familiar with,
or even their own homes.
In these places, a killer can manipulate the elements of the environment
with the victim none the wiser,
putting the murderer at a significant advantage.
For Montoya, that meant luring Sharika onto his turf
under the presence of buying a dance
and attacking her when she least expected it.
It's also very typical of serial killers
to hide the bodies of their victims
somewhat close to home.
According to Maurice Godwin and David Cantor
in their 1997 article entitled
Encounter and Death,
the spatial behavior of U.S. serial killers.
With time, many murderers begin to take more pride in their crimes.
and begin dumping bodies closer to their homes
as their offenses become more frequent
and increasingly integrated into their daily lives.
Meaning that if Montoya was the West Mesa Bone Collector,
he may have been killing for years
before deciding to bury his victims in the West Mesa.
But despite having compelling evidence,
it was not enough for investigators
to charge Montoya with the murders.
So they went one step further,
conducting a search and extended.
testing on Montoya's trailer years after his death.
But investigators found nothing conclusive tying him to the bone collector's victims.
It's tough to pin a murder on a dead man.
But a lack of physical evidence wasn't the only thing throwing detectives for a loop.
Montoya's timeline wasn't a perfect fit.
One woman on Ida Lopez's original list of 16 missing sex workers vanished after Montoya's death,
which prompted investigators to look into another suspect
who shared Lorenzo Montoya's violent profile,
but whose timeline succinctly matched that up all the victims.
That suspect was Joseph Blair.
Joseph Blair was no stranger to Albuquerque police,
and like Lorenzo Montoya,
Blaia also fit the FBI profile of the West Mesa Bone Collector.
At the time of the murders,
he was a local Albuquerque man in his 30s,
with a record of soliciting sex.
Between 1990 and 2009,
Blaia racked up over 130 separate run-ins with police,
many of which occurred in areas frequented by the West Mesa victims.
In 1997, Blaya was cruising down the main drag of the war zone neighborhood
when he called a woman over to his car and exposed himself.
Later, when police searched his vehicle,
they found ropes and electrical tape on the passenger seat.
In an interview with another sex worker who knew him,
the woman said that Blaia took her to his home
where he attempted to tie her up against her will.
However, she broke free before the encounter went further.
But Blaya was known among Albuquerque authorities
for much more than indecent exposure.
He had a horrific record of sexual crimes against young women
unrelated to the West Mesa case.
Accusations were filed against Blaya,
stating he repeatedly raped a woman he knew,
with a screwdriver when she was just 14 years old.
However, the case was later inexplicably dropped.
In 2009, after the discovery of the remains on the West Mesa appeared in the news,
authority's most vital lead came from someone who knew Blaia well.
April Gillen, Blair's first wife,
contacted police immediately upon hearing about the West Mesa murders,
and urged investigators to look into her ex-husband closely.
And they did.
In the weeks after his ex-wife's tip, detectives tailed Blaia for days as he appeared to stalk sex workers,
slowly circling the block in areas where the women were working.
He approached no one, but detectives noted he appeared to be watching them closely.
The stalking behavior was highly suspicious to investigators.
Blaia seemed to be staking out women, observing their moves.
But why?
These seemed to be the preparations of an organized.
criminal, a major characteristic in the profile of the West Mesa bone collector.
Months later, investigators gained search warrants for Blaia's home, where they collected a variety
of jewelry and women's underwear. His current wife, Cheryl Blair, told authorities that
Blair enjoyed wearing women's underwear during sex, and that their daughter had found women's
underwear hidden in their shed. Additionally, Blaya's wife and daughter had both found jewelry
that did not belong to either of them in their home.
Investigators tested these items for matches with the victim's DNA,
but will not say if there were any conclusions.
Like Lorenzo Montoya, the evidence found regarding Joseph Blaya's connection to the West Mesa killings
is only circumstantial.
However, police found one piece of physical evidence tying Blaya more closely to the case.
During the excavation of the remains of victim Virginia Cloven,
detectives found a plant tag for a spearmint juniper tree.
With further investigation, the tree was traced to a tree nursery
that Joseph Bleya had purchased from multiple times.
This small scrap of paper, though seemingly inconsequential,
is a tangible lead connecting Bleya to the burial site.
And as far as we know, it's the most concrete piece of evidence investigators have.
And about five years after remains were discovered on the West Mesa,
two cold cases re-emerged, proving that Blaya was capable of crimes far more sadistic
than anything investigators had previously imagined.
In 2014, with improved technology, there was a breakthrough in an unsolved case of serial
rapes from the 1980s. The case had been dubbed the mid-school rapes,
wherein the suspect would break into the homes of 13-to-15-year-old girls
who lived near a local Albuquerque Middle School and raped them.
In one case, a DNA sample was obtained from a rape test kit, but was inconclusive at the time of the crimes in the 1980s.
But in 2010, the test was rerun.
The result, Joseph Blair was the mid-school rapist.
In June of 2015, 58-year-old Joseph Blair was sentenced to 90 years in prison.
And in addition to being found guilty of serial rapes committed decades prior, another crime.
from Bleya's past came back to haunt him.
DNA breakthroughs had linked Bleya to yet another closed case.
Modern genetic research found a potential match between Bleya's DNA
and the DNA found on the inner waistband of a sex worker murdered in 1985.
At the time of the murder, Blea was never charged.
In fact, another man went to prison for the crime
and was later acquitted in 2006.
Though Blea was considered a high-populated,
suspect in the cold case, the DNA evidence was not entirely conclusive, and charges
against Blaia were never filed. However, the probability of his involvement proved to detectives
what they had already suspected. Blaya could be more than just a rapist. He could be a killer.
This crime, so similar to that of the West Mesa Bone Collector, rocketed Blaya to the top
of detectives' list of suspects.
Bleya is currently serving a sentence for the mid-school rape case.
His former attorney, John McCall, maintains that Bleya had nothing to do with the West Mesa murders.
Regardless, Bleyer reportedly has a fascination with the West Mesa case that belies his lawyer's assertions.
When detectives interviewed Bleyer's former cellmate, he recalled Bleyer told him he knew many of the victims.
He even paid them for sex.
officers reported that the cellmate relayed that Blaya spoke poorly of some of the identified victims, calling them trashy.
Blay had told him that he had even hit one of the victims when she tried to take his money.
However, despite this and the seemingly strong circumstantial evidence, nothing concrete linked Blaya to the victims.
They were at a loss, staring at a list of leads as barren as the West Mesa itself.
In 2015, investigators confirmed that Joseph Blaya and Lorenzo Montoya have not been ruled out as suspects, but the case was at a standstill.
A reward of up to $100,000 had been offered for information leading to the arrest of the killer.
But this only led police to be flooded with false confessions and prank calls.
Now, almost a decade after unearthing the victim's remains, no major updates have been reported.
reported. However, the Albuquerque police pledged the case will not be shelved until a prosecutable
suspect can be presented. But as years have passed, the once-40-member task force of police
on the case has dwindled to only one full-time investigator, Detective Mark Menary.
Menary admits that cases get colder as time goes on, but the passage of time can also be a great
help to an investigation. Manari told reporters that a witness that may have been too scared to talk at
the time of the incident because of their personal situation may be more willing to talk at a later date.
Menary believes the key to solving the West Mesa case lies in the war zone, that seedy strip of the
city the victims frequented. He hopes the women working in the streets between 2001 and 2005
will come forward with new information.
Meanwhile, the victim's families have looked for closure elsewhere.
As the bulldozers and swarms of authorities have moved on from the scene,
all that remains is a small makeshift memorial.
Stuffed animals, flowers, votives, and photos of the victims
line a brick wall in front of the mesa.
The ravaged landscape behind it is almost symbolic of the violence against those being memorialized.
Dan Valdez, the father of victim Michelle Valdes,
the father of victim Michelle Valdes
still waits patiently
to catch his daughter's killer
years after the case grew cold.
He's told reporters, quote,
we'll get our justice,
maybe not here on earth,
but we'll get our justice,
end quote.
Detective Lopez has once again retired
after further years of committed work,
but continues to keep in contact
with the victim's families.
Today, the whereabouts of the seven other missing women
on Lopez's original list
are still unknown.
The West Mesa is vast
and police acknowledge
that there may be other victims
still buried there
or perhaps buried
at a different grave site entirely.
Though the West Mesa murder case
may have faded from headlines,
it remains deep in the city's consciousness.
And until new information is brought forward,
we're left with few answers
and far too many questions.
Did the bone collector die with Lorenzo Montoya in 2006?
Is it Joseph Blaia sitting behind bars?
Or is the West Mesa Bone Collector still out there somewhere?
Stalking another hunting ground in another state, filling the earth with fresh graves?
Thanks again for tuning into serial killers.
We'll be back Monday with a new episode.
You can find more episodes of serial killers as well as all of Park
other podcasts, on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, Google Play, CastBox, tune-in, or your favorite podcast directory.
Several of you have asked how to help the show, and if you enjoy the show, the best way to help is to leave a five-star review.
And don't forget to follow us on Facebook and Instagram at Parcast and Twitter at Parcast Network.
We'll see you next time.
Have a killer week.
Serial Killers was created by Max Cutler.
production of Cutler Media and is part of the
Parcast Network. It's produced by
Max and Ron Cutler, sound
design by David Turk, with
production assistance by Ron Shapiro
and Paul Mahler. Additional
production assistance by Freddie Beckley
and Maggie Admire. Serial
Killers is written by Alex Scarland
and stars Greg Poulson and
Vanessa Richardson.
Blood Trails is a true crime podcast
born in the outdoors, where
the terrain is unforgiving, the evidence
is scarce, and the truth gets
buried under brush and silence.
I simply thought it was a sleeping bed and there was a full of blood.
Somebody somewhere knows something.
I'm Jordan Sillers.
Season 2 is out now with new episodes every Thursday.
Listen on the IHot Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
A beloved 75-year-old man washing up getting ready for bed is brutally beaten and killed.
Despite an exhaustive investigation, the killer of
avoids arrest, and then strikes again.
I'm Global News crime reporter Nancy Hicks.
You might listen to a lot of true crime podcasts this year, but they're not crime beat.
Search for and follow the award-winning podcast Crime Beat on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music,
and wherever you find your favorite podcasts.
