Fugitives, and the searches it took to catch them.
10 cases

In July 1996, a fishing trawler off Southwest England hauled up the fully clothed body of a man wearing a Rolex — and the watch's stopped hands, along with a maple leaf tattoo, began unraveling an international deception.

Two days before her high school graduation, Shari Faye Smith's little blue Chevette sat idling at the end of her family's long South Carolina driveway, the driver's door open and the mail scattered — and seventeen-year-old Shari was gone.

Doted on by his pistol-packing mama in tiny Rosebud, Texas, Kenneth McDuff grew from small-town bully into one of the most sinister figures in Texan history — a killer handed unprecedented leniency by the very system meant to stop him.

Devout Tom Pendergast made it his God-given mission to rescue wayward boys, so when he found six-foot-four teenage runaway Carl Eder sleeping in a coat closet at the Mission Beach Ballroom, he brought him home to his wife and children in El Cajon.

Anita Cobby, a Sydney nurse who once won the Miss Western Suburbs beauty pageant, was walking home from a night out with friends in February 1986 when a carload of five men pulled alongside her — igniting one of Australia's most infamous manhunts.

Surveillance cameras in Plano, Texas, captured Christina Morris walking into a parking garage with acquaintance Enrique Arochi just before 4:00 a.m. Minutes later, only his car emerged — and Christina was never seen again.

Nineteen-year-old Katie Poirier was working the late shift alone at D.J.'s Expressway Conoco in Moose Lake, Minnesota, in the spring of 1999 when a man walked in before closing. A grainy security tape captured what happened next — and launched a desperate search.

For twenty years, Chicago knew J.J. Jameson as a beloved poet, church historian, and community fixture. When state troopers walked into the Third Unitarian Church in 2005, they knew him as someone else: Norman Porter, a double murderer who had escaped a Massachusetts prison.

When police climbed through a window of the darkened List mansion in Westfield, New Jersey, in December 1971, the house was ice cold, the family had been 'away' for a month — and church hymns were still playing over the intercom.

Patients in Reidsville, North Carolina, trusted 'Young Dr. Klenner' with their lives — but Fritz Klenner had never attended medical school, and his years of deception would end in a trail of dead across two families.
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