On July 12, 1996, Jessica Phelps, a 37-year-old writer with a passion for uncovering history’s forgotten tales, set out to explore an abandoned cabin in Rocky Mountain National Park. She never returned. Her backpack, found near a stream, offered no answers, and despite exhaustive searches, her fate remained a mystery for 29 years. In 2025, a hunter’s discovery of a hand-drawn map hidden beneath the cabin’s floorboards, inscribed with “He’s following me,” reignited the case. The map led to her ex-husband, Dylan Novak, whose chilling confession revealed a story of obsession and murder. Jessica’s courage in leaving that clue brought justice, proving even the Rockies’ silence can be broken.
Jessica was no ordinary adventurer. A freelance writer in Estes Park, Colorado, she thrived on piecing together stories from abandoned homesteads. The Peterson Place, a decaying cabin deep in the park, was her latest obsession. She envisioned its history—lives etched in its weathered beams—for a new article series. That crisp July morning, she packed her notebook, camera, and a map, telling her friend Megan Cobb she’d be back by evening. “She was buzzing with excitement,” Megan recalled. Jessica’s route was rugged, but her experience in the Rockies gave her confidence. No one imagined it would be her last hike.
When Jessica missed her check-in, Megan alerted park rangers. A massive search began, with helicopters buzzing over dense forests and teams scouring steep ravines. The terrain was brutal—unpredictable weather, hidden crevices, and vast wilderness stymied efforts. Days later, rangers found her backpack by a stream, its contents untouched: notebook, protein bars, camera. No signs of a struggle or wildlife attack. “It was like she just vanished,” Ranger David Miller said. Theories swirled—accident, disorientation, or something darker. After weeks, the search was scaled back, leaving Jessica’s family in limbo, haunted by questions without answers.
For 29 years, Jessica’s case was a ghost story in Estes Park. Her parents, aging and frail, held onto hope. Megan kept a Facebook page alive, sharing Jessica’s smile and stories, praying for a breakthrough. Periodic case reviews using DNA and radar tech yielded nothing. The Rockies, with their endless secrets, seemed to have swallowed her whole. Local papers marked anniversaries, and hikers whispered about the writer lost to the wild. “It was the not-knowing that hurt most,” Megan said. The Peterson Place, crumbling under snow and time, stood as a silent witness to a mystery that refused to yield.
In spring 2025, a hunter seeking shelter from a snowstorm changed everything. Inside the Peterson Place, he pried up a loose floorboard and found a brittle, rolled-up map. Its crude lines traced trails near the cabin, but three words in faded pencil stopped him cold: “He’s following me.” Sensing its weight, he bagged the map and alerted rangers. The discovery electrified the community. Megan, seeing the map, felt a surge of hope and dread. “That was Jessica’s handwriting,” she said. “She knew she was in danger.” The map, hidden for decades, suggested foul play, transforming a cold case into a potential homicide.
Lieutenant Colin Vargas, a cold case expert, took charge. He pored over the 1996 files, re-interviewing witnesses and analyzing the map’s markings. The phrase “He’s following me” pointed to a stalker. Megan revealed a troubling detail: Jessica’s ex-husband, Dylan Novak, had been controlling, even after their divorce. He’d shown up unannounced, made harassing calls. Shockingly, Novak had joined the 1996 search, posing as a concerned friend. “He was right there, acting heartbroken,” Megan said. Vargas dug into Novak’s past, uncovering inconsistencies in his alibi and suspicious gaps in his 1996 statements.
The Peterson Place was searched again, with drones and ground-penetrating radar scanning the altered landscape. The map’s trail led to a remote cabin Novak owned, unknown to original investigators. Vargas confronted Novak, laying out the map, Megan’s testimony, and discrepancies. Novak’s denials faltered under pressure. In a tense interrogation, he crumbled, confessing to stalking Jessica out of jealousy. He’d followed her to the Peterson Place, confronted her, and, in a rage, abducted her. He held her in his cabin, where she hid the map during a fleeting chance. Novak admitted to killing her and burying her nearby, believing the grave would stay hidden.
Forensic anthropologist Dr. Katherine Lewis led the search for Jessica’s remains. Using Novak’s directions and advanced radar, her team found a shallow grave under leaves near his cabin. Dental records and DNA confirmed it was Jessica. The discovery brought closure and grief. “She fought to leave that map,” Megan said at Jessica’s memorial, where friends celebrated her spirit. Novak pleaded guilty to kidnapping and murder, receiving life without parole. The judge praised Jessica’s bravery, noting her map ensured justice. “She spoke from beyond,” he said.
The case rippled through Estes Park. On X, #JessicaPhelps trended, with users sharing the map’s image and tributes: “Her courage broke the silence,” one wrote. TikTok videos recreated her final hike, amplifying her story. Like the 1998 Kowalsski tragedy, it underscored nature’s dual role as haven and hazard. Jessica’s case spurred cold case initiatives nationwide, with agencies adopting new tech. Her love for history lives on—her articles, now archived, inspire hikers to explore with caution. The Peterson Place, once a mystery’s heart, is now her memorial, whispering of a writer who left a mark even in death.
