Somebody went to great lengths to take her name from her
For thirty-three years, two sets of human remains rested in a Minnesota morgue without a name — a silence that outlasted careers, grieved a family of fifteen, and resisted every investigative tool available at the time. In 2024, genetic genealogy finally bridged the gap between the living and the lost, identifying the remains as those of Denise Elaine Sexton Hartley, a twenty-seven-year-old woman from St. Paul who vanished in June 1993. Science, in its own slow time, restored her name to her — though the question of who took her life, and why, remains unanswered. The work of identification is done; the work of justice has yet to begin.
- A severed head and a foot, found in two separate Twin Cities lakes in 1993, went unidentified for three decades because fingerprints failed and dental records led nowhere.
- Hartley's family endured thirty-three years without confirmation of what happened to the youngest of their fifteen siblings — only the unbearable uncertainty of her disappearance.
- In 2024, investigators partnered with the DNA Doe Project and compared genetic material from the remains against a sample from Hartley's own daughter, producing a positive match.
- The identification restored her name, but no arrest has been made, the manner of death remains undetermined, and the case is still very much open.
- Investigators are now appealing to anyone who knew Hartley in 1993 — friends, acquaintances, anyone with a fragment of her final days — hoping human memory will carry the case where science alone cannot.
In June 1993, a severed head was discovered near Bone Lake in Scandia, Minnesota, and a foot washed up the following day in Pig's Eye Lake outside St. Paul. For thirty-three years, those remains had no name. Fingerprints matched nothing. Dental records offered no leads. The case went cold, and somewhere in the silence, a family of fifteen waited without answers for their youngest sister, Denise Elaine Sexton Hartley, who had vanished that same month at twenty-seven years old.
The science that might have identified her simply did not exist in 1993. It took until 2024, when Washington County investigators partnered with the DNA Doe Project — a nonprofit that has generated leads in more than 150 unidentified-remains cases — to finally close that gap. Using genetic genealogy, they compared DNA from the decades-old remains against a sample provided by Hartley's daughter. The match was positive. After thirty-three years, Denise had her name back.
"Somebody obviously went to great lengths to make sure that Denise's name was taken from her," said Traci Onders of the DNA Doe Project. "It was very important to us to be able to give her her name back and give her family an answer."
But a name is not yet justice. The manner of Hartley's death remains undetermined, no arrest has been made, and the person or people responsible have never faced charges. Lead investigator Detective Clayton Evens described the long arc of the case with quiet resolve: "Even after decades, there's always hope that one day the science will catch up to the questions that couldn't be answered at the time."
Now investigators are asking anyone who knew Hartley — friends, acquaintances, anyone with knowledge of her final days — to come forward. The case has a name attached to it now, but it remains open. The Washington County Sheriff's Office can be reached at 651-430-7850. Somewhere in the Twin Cities, someone holds the remaining piece of this story.
In June 1993, a severed head surfaced near Bone Lake in Scandia, Minnesota. The next day, a foot washed up in Pig's Eye Lake, just outside St. Paul. For thirty-three years, those remains belonged to no one—at least not officially. No name, no family, no closure. The body parts came from Denise Elaine Sexton Hartley, the youngest of fifteen siblings from St. Paul, who had vanished that same month at twenty-seven years old. But investigators in Washington County had no way to know it then.
The science simply wasn't there. Fingerprints didn't match. Dental records led nowhere. The case went cold, filed away with hundreds of others—a mystery that would outlast the careers of the detectives who first worked it. Hartley's family was left with nothing but questions and the unbearable knowledge that somewhere, their sister's remains lay unidentified in a morgue.
Then, in 2024, everything changed. Investigators turned to genetic genealogy, a technology that barely existed when Hartley disappeared. The method works by comparing DNA from unknown remains against massive databases of genetic profiles, then tracing family trees to narrow down who the person might be. It's detective work conducted in the language of genes rather than footprints or witnesses. Washington County Sheriff's Office partnered with the DNA Doe Project, a nonprofit organization that has used this approach to generate leads on more than 150 cases. They obtained a DNA sample from Hartley's daughter and ran it against the remains found three decades earlier. The match came back positive.
Traci Onders, who works with the DNA Doe Project, understood what this moment meant. "Somebody obviously went to great lengths to make sure that Denise's name was taken from her," she said. "It was very important to us to be able to give her her name back and give her family an answer." The identification was official. After thirty-three years, Denise Elaine Sexton Hartley had a name again.
But identification is not the same as justice. Washington County Sheriff's Detective Clayton Evens, the lead investigator, acknowledged the limits of what they now know. The manner of Hartley's death remains undetermined. The cause is still unknown. No arrest has been made. The person or people responsible for her death have never been charged. "Cases like this stay with you," Evens said. "Even after decades, there's always hope that one day the science will catch up to the questions that couldn't be answered at the time, and it finally did." The science caught up to one question. Many others remain.
Now investigators are reaching out to anyone who knew Hartley, anyone who might have information about her final days or the circumstances of her death. They're asking for acquaintances, family members, friends—anyone with a piece of the puzzle. "It would be a huge sigh of relief, not just for me, but for our entire team," Evens said. The case is no longer cold in the sense that it has a name attached to it. But it is still very much open. The Washington County Sheriff's Office is asking anyone with information to call 651-430-7850. Somewhere in the Twin Cities, someone knows what happened to Denise Hartley in 1993. The question now is whether they will speak.
Notable Quotes
Somebody obviously went to great lengths to make sure that Denise's name was taken from her. It was very important to us to be able to give her her name back and give her family an answer.— Traci Onders, DNA Doe Project
Cases like this stay with you. Even after decades, there's always hope that one day the science will catch up to the questions that couldn't be answered at the time, and it finally did.— Detective Clayton Evens, Washington County Sheriff's Office
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
What does it feel like to finally name someone after thirty-three years?
It's not closure, exactly. It's the beginning of a different kind of search. For three decades, Denise was a set of remains. Now she's a person again—but the person who hurt her is still unknown.
The DNA Doe Project works on over 150 cases. Why is genetic genealogy so much more powerful than the old methods?
Because it doesn't require a match in an existing database. It builds a family tree from scratch, working backward from DNA to find relatives, then forward to find the person. It's like having a witness who never forgets.
Her family waited thirty-three years. What does that do to people?
It leaves them suspended. You can't grieve properly. You can't bury someone. You can't move forward because part of you is still waiting for an answer that may never come.
But they did get an answer.
They got a name back. They know who was found in those lakes. But they still don't know how she died or who did it. That's a different kind of waiting now.
Do you think someone will come forward?
Maybe. Thirty-three years is a long time. People move, people change, people develop consciences. Or they don't. But now there's a name attached to the case again, and that changes the conversation.