Unrecovered Remains
Can there be a trigger warning for such an aberration?
There was a two month period in 2024 when the Doña Ana County Sheriff’s Office (DASO) in southern New Mexico and the NM Office of the Medical Investigator (OMI) did not go out to locate and collect the human remains we reported. Six sites that are only ten minutes from a gas station remain lying on the desert sands in spite of our repeated efforts. Over the past 18 months, James and I have traveled to these sites regularly, bringing various media so they could see the “evidence” for themselves and report on the issue. We were trying to shed light on this situation so that public awareness might pressure the OMI and DASO to carry out their legally-required responsibilities.
Over the past year and a half we filed complaints with the NM Attorney General and with DASO’s Office of Internal Affairs. We spoke with Senator Heinrich, Representative Vasquez, Governor Lujan Grisham’s staff, the El Paso field office of the FBI, the State Auditor, and the Doña Ana County Attorney, Manager, and Commission Chair. At the end of February 2026, James spoke at the Doña Ana County Commissioners meeting about the unrecovered human remains so it would be entered into the public record. Perhaps this last effort will be what forces DASO and OMI to perform their jobs.
Sadly, these sites of human remains took on names as we had to repeatedly refer to them when speaking with journalists: the Fence Line Girl, the Fence Line Leg, Ada Guadalupe, Middle of the Field, the Blue Bra, and the August 30th site. As of this writing, only one has been recovered – the August 30th site. We forced the collection by waiting nine hours one hot day last May until the deputies and field investigator for the OMI arrived. It was an emotional day for me, a long despedida as my fellow searcher Heidi called it – a long goodbye. Eight months prior when the deputy told me straight out that he would not go to the site, I made a promise to the deceased woman that I would not forget her. That promise tugged at my heart each time I re-visited her.

At one of the remaining five uncollected sites – the Fence Line Girl – lie her clothing, shoes, and backpack. I have watched her blue bikini panties with the embroidered hearts on them be blown farther away from the site as each month passes. Could these be used to help identify her? Or perhaps her now faded grey shirt with the sequined fox on the front? There are many, many bones scattered widely in the area, but not her skull. With each journalist we brought there over the past year and a half, I would wander far from the site, looking for this missing part that seems to symbolize our humanity. Last month the Battalion was searching in our customary grid pattern near the Fence Line Girl’s site, and I asked my team if they had the energy and willingness to add a few miles onto our already six-mile search. I explained why and they all agreed, including our septuagenarian searcher who knew it would make for an especially tiring day. We formed our long, evenly-spaced line and I led them parallel to the site of remains. When I heard Laurel say over her radio, “Abbey, please come over here,” goosebumps raised on my arms.
I have been doing these searches long enough that I’ve learned to marshal my emotions at the site of human remains, but this time a feeling of relief flooded me and I felt tears forming at the corners of my eyes. I have been with this deceased young woman for a very long time. I’ve thought of her and also her family so often. They must be grieving and wondering what happened to their daughter, their sister. I squeezed Laurel’s arm in thanks. We were about 500 feet from the rest of the woman’s remains, but now she felt complete. When they finally come to recover her (and I believe it will be soon after James’s presentation at the County Commissioner meeting), they can collect almost all of her.
The normal steps of our work are to search, locate remains, and report them to the local law enforcement agency and the OMI. Done. Then we can move on with our lives until the next search. But when reported remains are ignored and go unrecovered, these deceased persons live on in our psyches and we carry them and the worries of their families with us, month after month.
Written by Abbey Carpenter, co-leader of the Battalion Search and Rescue



I have to sit with this for a moment.
Six sites. Known locations. Ten minutes from a gas station. Human remains lying on the desert floor, and the agencies legally required to collect them simply… didn’t.
Not because they didn’t know. You told them. Repeatedly. You filed complaints. You contacted senators, representatives, the governor’s office, the FBI, the state auditor, county commissioners. You brought journalists. You did everything short of collecting the remains yourself.
And still. Nothing.
That is not bureaucratic failure. That is a choice. Someone, somewhere in that chain, made a decision that these people, these human beings with families who are still waiting, were not worth the trip.
The blue bikini with the embroidered hearts is still out there. The grey shirt with the sequined fox. Bones scattered by wind and time while officials sat in air-conditioned offices and did not move.
I don’t have words strong enough for what that is.
Abbey,
I am deeply moved by your compassion, commitment and care. Thank you for your important work.