Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - The Betrayal of Trust The Tragic Story of Leslie Palacio and Her Fight for Justice PART3 #75

Episode Date: February 3, 2026

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truecrime #justiceforleslie #lesliepalacio #realhorrorstories #crimeaftermath The Betrayal of Trust: The Tragic Story of Leslie Palacio and Her Fight for Justice (PART 3)In the final part of Leslie Palacio’s heartbreaking story, we witness the long fight for justice and the emotional aftermath that followed her tragic death. As authorities close in on those responsible, Leslie’s family refuses to give up, turning their grief into strength and advocacy. This conclusion sheds light on the impact of betrayal, the resilience of love, and the importance of justice for victims everywhere. A real-life horror story that reminds us how deeply trust, once broken, can change lives forever. horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truecrime, justiceforleslie, lesliepalacio, betrayaloftrust, realhorrorstories, crimeaftermath, realcrime, truecrimecase, victimsjustice, emotionalstory, trueevent, realstories, justice, tragedy

It all started with a single phone call that changed everything. According to the data the investigators had been tracking, Eric made a brief call from a state park about 75 kilometers away from the casino where he and Leslie were last seen together. That small detail, barely a blip on a digital map, would soon open up a terrifying chain of discoveries. The police were able to identify who he had called that night, one of his closest friends, a guy who, up until that moment,

had no idea he was about to be pulled into one of the darkest cases in the Nevada desert. When the friend was brought in for questioning, he looked confused, anxious, and honestly terrified. He told the officers that Eric had called him out of nowhere late that night, his voice shaky and urgent. Eric begged him to drive out to the park and bring a container filled with gasoline. Naturally, the guy asked why, I mean, who calls you in the middle of the night from a remote state park asking for gas unless something really strange is going on. And that's when Eric dropped the bomb. He said he had done something terrible, something violent.

He was afraid to go to a gas station himself because he thought the cameras would record his face and his license plate. He couldn't risk being seen. The friend said that when he heard those words, his stomach turned. He thought it was some kind of twisted joke at first, but the tone in Eric's voice told him otherwise. He said there was no way he could help him, hung up, and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling,

replaying the call over and over in his head. When the police questioned him, he told them everything exactly as it had happened. They checked the GPS data from his phone, and it matched his story perfectly. His phone never moved from his apartment that night. So the police ruled him out as a suspect and let him go. Still, that small piece of testimony became a huge turning point in the investigation.

Because if Eric really had made that call, if he really was asking for gas to burn something, then maybe the officers already knew, deep down, what they were going to find next. But that didn't make it any easier when it finally happened. The days kept dragging on, one after another, each one heavier than the last. Leslie had now been missing for more than a week, and the hope of finding her alive was fading fast. The family tried to stay strong, but their eyes said what their voices couldn't, that quiet, devastating acceptance that maybe she wasn't coming home. And then, on September 9, 2020, the story took a horrifying turn. It was a brutally hot afternoon in the middle of the Nevada desert.

A hiker, a middle-aged man who knew the trails by heart. was walking through the dry paths of a state reserve, surrounded by endless sand and sharp rocks. He was just out there for the peace and quiet, maybe a bit of exercise, but what he stumbled upon that day would haunt him for the rest of his life. He said at first he thought he saw an animal carcass. But as he got closer, he realized it wasn't an animal. It was human. He froze, staring at what was clearly the body of a woman lying in the dirt. He backed away, shaking, then pulled out his phone and called 911 with trembling hands. When the police arrived, the scene they found was beyond words.

The body was in an advanced state of decomposition, partially burned, and barely dressed, just underwear that had been awkwardly put back on. The smell of smoke and decay lingered in the air. Her skin was discolored and cracked, and it was immediately obvious that whoever had left her there had tried to destroy the evidence. The desert heat had done the rest. It was gruesome, heartbreaking, and surreal. But amid all that horror, the investigators noticed a few key things. Near the body, half buried under sand and rocks, they found a pair of pants. The style, the size, even the color matched what Leslie had been wearing the night she disappeared. And there were

drag marks, long, uneven trails in the dirt that clearly showed the body had been moved after death, dragged to where it was found, maybe in a desperate attempt to hide it. The remains were taken to the forensic lab, and though everyone feared the truth, they still hoped, just for a moment, that it might not be her. But when the DNA results came back, all hope was gone. The body was Leslie's. 11 days after she vanished, her family finally had an answer, the worst possible one. The news hit like a thunder clap. Her mother, Aricelli, could barely speak.

Her sisters collapsed in tears. The small community that had rallied around the family was shattered. For days, people left flowers and candles outside the house, while the mother, heartbroken and furious, stood before cameras and said what she truly believed. that her daughter had been killed in the Rangel family's home. The most chilling part. The park where her body had been found was the exact same place from which Eric had made that mysterious phone call, the one where he asked for gasoline.

The coincidence was impossible to ignore. It tied everything together in the worst possible way. The police moved fast. They issued arrest warrants for both Eric and his father, Jose. Eric was wanted for murder, as well as for destruction and concealment of evidence. His father faced charges of obstruction, evidence tampering, and aiding a fugitive. The net was closing in, but both men were gone. On September 18th, just over a week after the discovery, the community came together one last

time to honor Leslie. Dozens of people gathered in the parking lot of the hotel casino where she'd been seen alive for the last time. It was a silent vigil. People held candles, posters with her face, and each other's hands. There were tears, prayers, and the same question burning in everyone's eyes, why. They weren't just mourning her, they were demanding justice. After that, the case started picking up momentum again. A few days later, police found Eric's pickup truck abandoned in a parking lot in California. It was dusty, locked, and looked like it had been sitting there for days. Forensics towed it away for testing, hoping to find something that could tie it all together.

And then, as if the case hadn't already been twisted enough, investigators uncovered a piece of evidence that sent shivers through everyone who saw it, video footage that showed exactly what had happened after Leslie's last night alive. The footage came from a security camera installed on a house near the Rangel family's residence. The quality wasn't perfect, but it was clear enough. You could see Eric and his father carrying something heavy, something that looked disturbingly like a body. The time stamp on the footage matched the early hours of the morning

when Leslie was last seen alive. When investigators reviewed the full recordings, it got even worse. One camera showed Eric and Leslie arriving home around six in the morning. They both looked dry. drunk, laughing, stumbling, just two young people after a night of partying. She could barely walk straight, and he helped her out of the car, guiding her inside the house. That was the last time she was ever seen alive. Half an hour later, the same camera captured Eric walking out of the house again. This time, he was alone. No shirt, no smile, no trace of the girl

who had entered with him. He got into his car, left for a while, and then came back with his father. Another camera further down the street picked up the next part, the one that made the officer's blood run cold. The two men were seen struggling to carry what was unmistakably a human body. They loaded it into the same vehicle and drove away. Moments later, one of them came back outside with a hose, washing down the driveway and the sidewalk, trying, obviously, to clean up any blood or trace evidence. You didn't need to be an expert to know what had just happened. When the footage leaked to the press, the story exploded everywhere.

TV stations, newspapers, social media, everyone was talking about it. But the most heartbreaking part was that Leslie's family found out about the video through the news. They weren't warned. They turned on their TVs and saw their daughter being dragged. out of a house like a piece of trash. The pain was unbearable. Ariselli and her daughters went public again, this time with anger mixing with grief. They said they felt ignored, that the police hadn't communicated with them properly, and that the investigation had been too slow. They were furious that they had to watch

the evidence on national television instead of hearing it from investigators first. One of Leslie's sisters spoke directly to the cameras, tears streaming down her face. She said that they had done everything they could to find her, that they had walked the streets, begged for help, and prayed for a miracle, but instead, they had to see her body being carried like that. Still, she said they would keep fighting, that they would not rest until the people responsible were caught and held accountable. Their strength became the heart of the movement for justice.

People online shared Leslie's story, her photos, her name. Her family turned their grief into determination, vowing that even if it took years, they would bring her killers to justice. Meanwhile, the police held a press conference. They showed the faces of Eric and Jose Rangel, urging the public to share their photos and report any sighting. But by then, the trail was already cold. Rumors began to spread that both men had fled across

crossed the border into Mexico. Authorities took the possibility seriously. They knew the Wrangell family had roots in Mexico, specifically in Halisco and Durango, and that they might have relatives willing to hide them. If they had indeed crossed over, it would be much harder to bring them back. The thought of them walking free,

maybe even starting new lives somewhere, made everyone sick to their stomachs. As the days passed, police continued digging deeper. They finally obtained a search warrant for the Wrangel home, hoping to uncover the truth behind those awful videos. Inside Eric's room, they found several suspicious stains. Samples were taken, and when tested, they came back positive for human blood. The investigators wouldn't publicly confirm if the DNA matched Lesleys,

maybe because they were still waiting for full lab results, or maybe because they didn't want to compromise the ongoing case. But everyone knew what it meant. Those stains, those videos, that call from the park, it all painted the same gruesome picture. Soon after, people noticed something strange about the rest of the Wrangel family, Eric's mother and sisters. Their behavior was, off.

Instead of cooperating or showing sorrow, they went quiet. Too quiet. They avoided the press, ignored the investigators, and refused to answer basic questions. They didn't attend the vigils. They didn't talk about Leslie. And to the police, that silence spoke volumes. It was as if they were hiding something, or protecting someone. And the most terrifying part was, maybe they were.

To be continued.